#nightmare dressed like a daydream!au

[jessicas-pi]

dont you love it when you're singing along to a song and then the realization that a lot of the lyrics go really well with one of your fics hits you in the face like a soggy pancake cause i sure do

[mingigoo]

1- Mingi

2- High school au

3- Prompts 12, 50, 53, and 56.

4- 18+ (some fluff but also rough?)

5- Reader is shy and a lil depressed while Mingi is one of the popular guys who everyone thinks doesn’t have any emotions but it’s actually a softie. (I love cliches what can I say). Can the genre be Strangers to lovers? Maybe he finds her crying in a classroom and that’s how they met. Also can there be a size kink and voice kink please?

Thank you!

nightmare, daydream || s.mg (m)

📓pairing ⇢ tutor! (fem) reader x popular boy! Mingi

📓 summary ⇢ in the quiet of the school’s art room during lunch time, Mingi accidentally interrupts your vulnerable moment. It was as if your usual invisible self was finally noticed. He intrigued you immensely, and as you are paired up to help tutor him, you find out that he’s much sweeter than he would like to lead on.

📓 genre/au ⇢ strangers to lovers au, high school au, slow burn, smut, angst, some fluff

📓 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, voice kink, slight hand link, size kink, slightly rough sex, teasing, mingi is a secret scaredy-cat, longing, high school lovers, probably more i'm just blanking so please let me know what I missed.

📓 word count ⇢ 11.1k

📓 taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @leeknowsnothing @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

y/n and mingi’s moodboards

The air was crisp as you breathed in, leaves crunching underneath your feet. 

It was still warm out—just between summer and fall. The leaves, however, were already falling, but some were still stuck on the branches like their lives depended on it. You envied their efforts, but yet, you knew they were going to fall just like the rest of them—it was inevitable. 

School had just started like any other year. You weren't exactly happy to go back, but at least it was your last. You wouldn't have to see the faces of your classmates ever again—you never got along with any of them, anyway.

The timing never seemed right. Your life had been a mess since you could remember, but it had just got worse a few days ago when you received the news of your father’s passing. He wasn't involved in your life; you forced yourself not to feel a thing about that man—but death was permanent, and you were terrified of it. If you cried about him, that would make you weak. But maybe, just maybe, bottling up these emotions was going to hurt you more than death ever could.

As you turned the corner to enter the school’s gates, a group of rambunctious boys pushed past you, laughing and carrying on and breaking the dress code. They never seemed to care if their ties were tied right, let alone tucking in their shirts. They always looked so messy to you; disorganized. It sent your hyperfocused mind into a spiral, but you shut it out and continued to make your way inside.

The hallway was bustling more than usual. 

You had a hard time with crowded places.

You pushed past some girls, who, as they always did, glared at you as you passed by. You were used to it, and your mother used to tell you it was because they were jealous. You knew that wasn't the case, rather, it was your backwardness that seemed to get on their nerves more than your beauty. 

You never understood your purpose. Somedays, you weren't even sure you were real. The world felt like it was crumbling around you non-stop, and you didn't know how to feel. You still don't know how to feel the things around you, as if your body didn't deserve it. Your soul didn't deserve it.

Like every other year, you sat down in the back of the classroom, away from those that actually mattered. Those seats should be for the ones that light up the room. 

Maybe it was your OCD, but if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. And if you were late, you hated yourself even more than you already did. So, here you were, sitting in an empty classroom while the rest of your classmates carried on in the corridors and made out in the bathrooms—which was disgusting, by the way. Who would ever do that?

The silence felt….comfortable. It was only you and the slight hum of the wind through the open windows. You were too far away to feel it, but you imagined it soaring through your hair, dancing through you. 

But said silence ended after the popular crowd emptied into the room, girls trailing behind the boys like leeches craving blood.

You shivered.

The boys were popular for reasons. Two of them played basketball, the other baseball, and then….

And then there was him.

Mingi wasn't an athlete like his friends, although he had a body like one. You watched him walk into the room like he owned it, his jaw set tightly as his friends cackled about something. You remembered back in middle school when he was small and scrawny—and slightly shorter than you. Now, the boy grew into a man, his muscular frame taking up so much space that it almost suffocated you.

You never saw him smile despite his raging popularity. It was as if he was just….there. He didn't speak much, you noted. He had this aura about him that interested you beyond degree, but yet, you made no effort to dig deeper.

You couldn't help but watch him take his seat on the other side of the room, right next to the open window. He liked sitting by windows. It almost brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. He reminded you more of the moon, but not at night. More so, the moon before the sun sets—barely there, but still noticeable. You, on the other hand, weren't even a star in his almost-night sky.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked blonde in the sunlight, shining smoothly. He made you angry. Everything about him. But he never personally victimized you in any way. He just……never noticed you.

The rest of the class piled in as the warning bell rang, jumping into their seats but still talking to their friends. You remained quiet, your deskmate not even sparing a passing glance at you.

“Good morning, seniors,” the teacher, who you haven't seen before, smiled at everyone. “I bet you're all ecstatic to be back.”

A bunch of groans, complaints, etcetera erupted. You didn't say anything. Your deskmate already had his head down.

And then the teacher looked at you. Only for a second, but long enough. You were first in the class, which no one else seemed to know other than the faculty and staff. You would prefer it that way, but this year, you'll have a lot of attention on you. 

Your eyes traveled to Mingi once more, watching him look out the window with his chin in his hand. He wasn't paying attention one bit.

The classes came and went. Your head hurt by the end of the day, stuffing all the information you learned because that was all you had for the future. University was your only option, your only ‘dream’ if you could call it that.

Art class on the first day was pointless, but you never wanted to leave the room. It was the one thing that you enjoyed deeply. Painting was something you shared with your mother. Your favorite thing to paint was what you saw—little things around that made your heart feel something. 

When it was time to eat lunch, the rest of the kids ran out of the art room, groups of friends having fun together. You watched Mingi and his friends get up, one of them hanging onto his broad, broad shoulders like a jungle gym. His gaze never strayed from his path, even if you were in it. He moved out of the room like a big wave, current pulling everything out of the room except you.

Once everyone was gone, including the teacher, you walked over to the windowsill, seeing the little houseplant holding on to dear life. It was wilting despite getting sunlight. You stood over it, emotionless. Lips turned down, you reached out to touch its dying petals, causing one to fall to its death.

You sucked in a breath, your chest heavy. You've pushed all your emotions so far back that everything was bound to come up at once. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't budge. You felt the pressure behind your eyes while all your bottled-up issues came to the surface—your father’s death being the main event. You hated him for everything that he did, but he was still your father. He was….still something to you. 

You sank to the floor, embarrassed, overwhelmed. Your soul felt heavier than ever, as if it just wanted to break away and leave this godforsaken world. The tears trailed down your cheeks even though you tried so hard to hold them back. It was okay to cry, it was okay. It's normal. Cry it out, cry it out, you'll feel better—

“...oh,” a deep voice rumbled through your body, causing you to take in a sharp breath and look up. 

There he was, filling up the whole doorframe like a giant. You breathed in deeply, but the tears kept falling and falling. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked concerned, though, and it was at that moment, in the art room, that your invisible self became visible—at least to somebody. 

“I….I’m sorry, I just came to grab my jacket,” he mumbled softly, gently. It caught you off guard. His presence felt oddly comforting. The look on his pretty face made you want to cry even more.

You slowly nodded, and he hesitantly entered the dim room, cautiously making his way to his easel to grab his jacket. You watched him, sniffling, beyond embarrassed. He tried not to look at you, you noticed, and you assumed it was because you looked like an absolute weirdo crying on the floor, in an art room, on the first day of classes.

And when you thought he was going to leave, he stopped dead in the doorway, his big, muscular shoulders tightening.

And then he turned around.

“I can….I can stay, if you want,” he hummed, his deep voice rippling through you. You looked up into his serious gaze, furrowing your eyebrows. 

You wanted to ask him why. Why would someone like him spare a moment of his precious time to stay with a crying weird girl? Clearly, he was concerned; it was apparent on his face. It was just….so strange that he looked in your direction, especially at a time like this. 

In a moment of weakness, you slightly nodded your head, forcing a smile—which may have looked more like a grimace. He took your nod as an okay and sat on the windowsill, keeping his distance. You looked up at him, tears still falling, but he wasn't looking at you. He was sitting with contentment, arms crossed over his chest with that emotionless face he always sported. You watched his foot, how it anxiously tapped against the floor, and how he just….made his large presence feel small.

You opened your mouth, trying to justify yourself. You didn't even know each other like this—you never spoke more than a sentence to each other before. You felt like you needed to explain why you were crying because if you didn't, he probably would've thought of you as that weirdo everyone believed you were.

“You don't have to tell me why,” he spoke, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

You blinked up at him as he spoke, feeling his tone rumble through you. You had nothing to say—and that was okay. You both sat in the quiet room for some time, way longer than you thought he would stay, until your tears dried. The bell rang soon after, and he stood up hesitantly.

He gave you a genuine look of worry—but not pity. 

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed at the door over his shoulder, tilting his head. “Don't be ashamed for feeling something.”

And then he left as if he were never there. The room felt even colder than it did before as if his presence warmed it. You smiled to yourself, his words hitting you deeply.

It was that moment when you declared that you were completely, irrevocably intrigued by him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

Like a daydream to your nightmare.

— 

You watched Mingi the next day in homeroom again. This time, the sun didn't dare peek through the curtains of the clouds as they cried.

He sat with his head down on the desk, his eyes closed in his effort to sleep. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he couldn't let his mind rest. You wanted to ease him, just like he eased you yesterday.

He looked so beautiful, even on a rainy day. You knew he didn't have an umbrella today, as his hair was damp. He also looked cold, which struck you by surprise. He was so….large…if you could put it that way. You might have been jumping to conclusions when you assumed he couldn't get cold because of the sheer size of his body, but maybe it was because he seemed so warm to you. Like a comforting hug.

Without warning, his sleepy eyes started to open slowly, meeting your gaze from across the loud, busy room. You didn't move your stare away—you just kept on admiring him without words, taking notice of how the crease between his eyes eased just by looking at you. You didn't smile or speak. Neither did he. He just sat there, his head down still, but his eyes sparkled like they always did. As his friends carried on around him, he kept quiet, watching you from a distance. 

The moment felt like forever, and when the first class began, He still kept his eyes on you.

—

That weekend, you ventured your way around on a mission to enjoy your favorite midnight snack. The convenience store on the corner always had the best selection of snacks, but tonight, you opted for just a banana milk. As you grabbed one, another large hand encased one next to you, startling you.

You looked to your right, Mingi standing there emotionless—but his eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Banana milk, huh?” he tilted his head, his gaze analyzing you like a work of art. You wondered if he thought of you as one. “I thought you'd be more of a strawberry girl.”

You blinked, confused. He was talking to you like a normal human being. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him, filtering your response.

“I like strawberry, too,” you admitted, giving him a confused glance before making your way to the register. He followed, a decent distance away from you, his body nearly twice the size of yours. Surprisingly, once again, his presence was far from intimidating. 

He stepped in front of you as you went to pay, setting down his strawberry milk with yours. You were about to question his actions, but then he handed the worker money, paying for you without saying anything. You frowned but kept your mouth shut, knowing that he was just being kind. You did begin to worry if he did this out of pity.

You walked out of the store together, sitting down on the stoop outside. You sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, sipping on your milk comfortably. It has been a long time since you felt comfortable in silence with someone. It was nice.

You looked over at him as he stared straight ahead towards the road in front of you, his pretty, silver hair shining under the street lights. 

“What’s your name?” he hummed gently, genuinely. You tried your best not to be insulted, but you tried to look at it in his view—in a room filled with a bunch of others, you probably never caught his eye enough to reach his curiosity. 

You blinked at him, trying hard not to show any specific emotion. “y/n,” you stated, taking a sip of your banana milk. 

He nodded, looking forward. He muttered your name as if he was trying to engrave it into his mind.

“y/n,” he murmured, nodding. You tried so hard not to feel butterflies.

After a moment of silence, you sat and watched him, probably weird to anyone other than you. But you looked at him, saw how he scrunched his nose as he looked forward, how his plump lips parted as he breathed. You noticed everything he did and didn't do.

“You're different than I thought you were,” you spoke, still staring at him. He moved his gaze to you, looking down through his long, dark eyelashes. You admired his beauty, having no reason to hide it. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking perfect. His expression lacked emotion, as if he had a hard time with it. “And how did you think I was?”

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact. You hated to hide your feelings, feeling as if it were pointless. He seemed like someone you could confide in, but maybe that was because you admired him for a long time. “I don't know, I just assumed you lacked a sense of humanity.”

He looked confused. “I…I don't get what you mean.”

“You were always so unreal to me,” you shrugged again, looking from his hair to his large hands holding onto the tiny milk. “Robotic-like.”

He nodded as if he agreed with you. You weren't the best at expressing yourself, but you had hoped he took your reasoning as a compliment.

More silence. You finished off your drink as he spoke once more.

“How are you?”

A simple question. A question usually asked without a care, just small talk. This time, however, he turned his body towards you, genuinely asking.

You looked away from him shyly. “I’m alright now,” you paused, refraining from saying more. “How are you?”

He sighed, looking forward. “I’m also alright. But I have detention tomorrow because I threw a basketball at some dickhead who thought it was okay to bully someone.”

You nearly smiled. 

“That's not fair,” you hummed softly. “You were standing up for them, and you get the shit end of the stick.” 

Mingi shrugged. “Violence still wasn't the answer,” he smiled, almost painfully. “I’m working on that.”

You admired him more than ever.

He stood up, towering over you. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

Your mind ran a mile a minute with everything you wanted to say to him. Yet, you kept your lips sealed and smiled.

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’ll see you, Mingi.”

—

“Miss y/n,” your homeroom teacher called for you as you walked down the hall, catching your attention. “Can I speak to you quickly?”

You nodded, knowing it was probably something to do with grades or planning some sort of event. You followed him into the empty classroom while he rummaged through some papers.

“I need you to tutor one of your classmates,” he spoke, still ruffling through a mess of papers until he found what he was looking for. “He requested you when I brought up the idea of getting tutored, so I hope you'll be interested. It’ll look great on your college application, of course.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who requested me? What’s the subject?”

“Uh…who was it…who was it—Ah, yes, Song Mingi. He’s struggling with chemistry.”

There you go again—as if it were fate. You were tangled with him once more, your mind circling back to him. You have never been involved with anyone to this degree, and the fact that Mingi requested you made it even more interesting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll do it.”

You walked out of the classroom, a smile nearly reaching your lips. Things were getting interesting—you were starting to feel like a real high school student and not just some fly on the wall that everyone tried to ignore—or swat at.

In the chemistry lab, Mingi sat his ginormous ass down next to you, letting out a sigh as he did it. You received a few weird looks from your classmates, who were probably wondering why the hell the popular Song Mingi was paying attention to the creepy art freak.

Or maybe you were thinking way too far into things.

“Hello, tutor,” he whispered deeply, tossing his notebook onto the table in front of you. He looked extra nice today—his hair was styled, so his forehead was showing. You took notice of the delicate birthmark on his cheek and how something so small made a huge impact on beauty.

You blinked at him, not an ounce of fear in your body. “Your face is pretty,” you spoke softly, admiring him. You didn't exactly mean to blurt that out, but hey, it was true. Why should you act like you didn't find him breathtaking? 

He looked taken aback by the random spew of admiration as if he’d never heard it before. His usually expressionless face brightened up, but only slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”

You nodded curtly, biting the corner of your lip. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone does.”

“Yes, but,” he rubbed his fingers against the spiral of his notebook, causing your attention to go to his long, gorgeous fingers. “Everyone else doesn't matter.”

You frowned, unsure what he meant by that. You didn't even have time to ask, anyway, as the teacher came in and started the lesson. Your eyes focused on his hands, his clean nails, his movements. He couldn't seem to stay still and had to move at least his fingers or his foot. It made you warm and fuzzy that such a big man had such human habits.

When you started the daily experiment, you bumped elbows with Mingi. He shied away, rather than you, and looked at you with a lost expression. You began to work together, but as your thoughts began to move to the idea of Mingi’s hands on you, all over you, you accidentally knocked over the beaker of chemicals. You shrieked back, bumping into Mingi’s chest, and as if it were a reflex, he held your shoulders tightly as if to protect you.

“What happened?” the teacher inquired, and you turned to her, Mingi still embracing you from his enormous height. It was then you realized how much smaller you were—your head only reaching his shoulder. 

You tried to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, mingi apologized. “I’m sorry, I accidentally caused y/n to knock over the beaker.”

The teacher looked irritated, but sighed in response. “All right, thank goodness it’s only Acetic Acid. Can you both please grab some cleaning materials in the janitor's closet down the hall? I cannot leave the room while administering chemicals.”

You looked up at Mingi, pulling yourself away from his grip awkwardly. You nodded, taking off your goggles before nearly running out of the room, Mingi following suit.

You reached the room, opening the small door as quickly as you could. You didn't know how close Mingi was, and when you felt his breath hit the top of your head, you tripped up, pulling him into the closet with you. 

You landed on top of his muscular body, feeling his warmth through your clothes. He let out a grunt right by your ear, creating a mess of dirty thoughts in your mind. You looked down at him, and when you saw that gorgeous, slight smirk on his pretty lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat. His smile was so beautiful—maybe because it was rare.

You were quite literally on top of the Song Mingi.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“....hi,” you peeped out, suddenly aware of your breath and your weight. You didn't even get the chance to get off of him when the door suddenly shut, causing you to jump.

You looked at him one more time, watching his gaze drop to your mouth, before tossing yourself off of him to open the door—but it was locked, and you were stuck, all alone with the one man you thought about more than anyone.

“Is that….is that locked?” Mingi pushed himself up on his palms, looking so delicious it was eating you up from the inside. 

You tried to open the door over and over again, and after the millionth time, you sighed. “Yep.” 

And then he laughed—a deep, childlike rumble that tickled your brain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he stood up in the small closet, inches away from you. It was dully lit by the lightbulb above, orange hues drowning his strong features. You noticed little specks of gold in his eyes like he was carved by the gods, decorated with glamour. You wanted to reach out and glide a hand down his cheek just to feel his skin. He looked unreal in horrible closet lighting. You wondered what you looked like to him.

“What is it?” his deep voice rumbled, a questioning tone. “Do I…..make you nervous?”

He took a step closer to you, but you did not step back. You tilted your head up more, gazing straight into his intoxicating eyes.

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Because you're attractive,” you admitted with ease, making him smile even more. You felt butterflies from his gaze, knowing that you were the cause of his grin. “You make a lot of people nervous.”

He looked conflicted—his hand twitched at his side, begging to touch you. The amount of chemistry flowing between you now was more than the amount spilled on the linoleum, and you felt the electric shock simmering through your soul.

He sighed, eyes dancing across your features.  “You're so…interesting,” he whispered, his hand finally breaking the bone-crushing lack of touch. His fingers delicately glided up your arm, but stayed there. You ached for them to move all over you.

You frowned, wondering what he meant. “In a good way?” you asked him, your voice small.

He didn't answer you—maybe he didn't know, either. Maybe his interest was something his brain could not comprehend, similar to how he captivated you. You were both vastly different—from different worlds. But yet….this feeling between you was undeniable.

His hand met your shoulder now, sending a chill down your spine. Why was he…why was he touching you on his own accord, why was he looking at you like that?

Your chest tightened, his expression unreadable. His breath tickled you, his cologne powerful. You closed your eyes on impulse, taking in this feeling, these senses, this ache in your chest that you have never felt before.

Before Mingi acted on his impulses, the door swung open, and you shoved him against the other wall, turning around quickly. 

“There you are. I was wondering if everything was okay,” the teacher huffed, calling you both out of the closet. You couldn't even remember walking back to the classroom, but you vividly remembered the feeling of his hands on you—and wondered about where else those fingers could go.

—

The next few days, Mingi sat with you at your lunch table—which was usually just you or someone else at the end who didn't have anything to do with you. It caused a lot of commotion; his friends were confused at the table across the room, and girls began to chit-chat while glaring.

You didn't mind; it was nothing. People were allowed to look and talk. It doesn't make you any less of a person.

Mingi rested his head on his palm across from you, flipping through his chemistry notebook aggressively. He didn't speak, he just made irritated noises. You smiled at him—probably the only person you ever showed this much emotion to.

“What are you confused about?” you asked him as you took a bite of your lunch, noticing that his tray was completely filled without a single bite taken.

He sighed, looking up at you for a second longer than a friend should've. He blinked, brushing away the hair that covered his eyes, before dropping his gaze back to the textbook.

“I just don't understand any of this,” he mumbled, his tone worrisome. You noticed his feelings more than your own—your heart ached to tell him that it’ll be okay. That he shouldn't worry. 

But you weren't anything to him—he just learned your name while you knew his everything.

You leaned forward, hearing the soft breaths leave his lips. You tried your best to read the backward words, succeeding after a long moment. 

“Ah, Ionic bonds?” you reiterated, meeting his gaze. He nodded, looking at you instead of his book. You ignored his intense stare. “Do you know the linkage?”

He just stared at you, his eyes twinkling. His expression lacked any sort of emotion, but somehow, you felt as if he was captivated—like an artist appreciating his artwork.

“Anyway,” you forced yourself to continue, holding in all of your questions for him. Why was he looking at you like that? Why did you feel a pull to him, a pull like no other? Like you were made just for him in this universe, similar to those oppositely charged ions being pulled together in electrovalence. You were an Ionic bond, two opposites, an undeniable tug, a match made in chemistry.

“Electrostatic attraction,” you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Despite the room being filled with people, you only saw each other. 

He looked down at your hands, which were quite literally fumbling over your chopsticks. “What?”

You cleared your throat, feeling jittery. You never felt jittery. No one made you feel this way—actually, nobody ever made you feel anything. This scared you but interested you more. “When two ions of opposite charges are attracted to each other. It creates an Ionic bond….”

“A bond?” he hummed, his fingers peeling back the textbook page, causing you to look down. You breathed in deep, composing yourself, but the deep ache to have him ruined everything you ever worked for—your beauty has always been your brain, but he made you feel like your outward appearance was also worthy. 

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling away from him to sit against the back of the seat. “Kind of like….opposites attract. You know, how people are attracted to those different than them?”

He stared at you, his cold gaze somehow warming you more than summer ever could. He may have looked like winter, but to you, he melted the ice off your stone-cold heart.

You looked at each other then, that chemistry sparking and spilling all over you. His lips were downturned in a frown, but oh, his eyes lit the fire inside your barren soul. The things you wanted to say to him ripped through you, desperate to reach the surface, but you held back as you were happy enough to get his attention.

“Why don't we…..why don't we skip next period?” he spoke, biting his lip slightly. You watched his eyes dance across your face, trying to figure you out. 

You never missed a class. You came to school on time. You followed every rule known to man. Everything you did was by the book. But now, oh…..everything you ever knew about yourself seemed to be dwindling over a cliff.

With a short nod, you watched his lips curl slightly, feeling proud that you were the cause once again.

—

It was raining as you both ran through the empty halls, drops dripping down the windows like they were racing to the finish line. His hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your body. You wondered if he felt it, too.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked you as you reached the back door.

You shook your head.

He sighed, contemplating his impulses, you assumed. But you felt in control now, and with a quick motion, you gripped his hand, offering him a questionable look before pushing through the door.

You tumbled through the rain, drenching you as if you were in the ocean. He held onto your hand tightly as if he would drown without you. He let out a laugh, feeling like music to your ears. Without thinking, a smile reached your lips, your cheeks turned red as he pulled you through the rain.

You stopped underneath a small building’s overhead roof, both of you out of breath and soaked to the bone. He looked ethereal—his silver hair now dark like the night sky. His eyelashes were covered in raindrops, delicately taking rest on him. His skin was dewy, his smile brighter than anything you've ever seen before.

You felt the butterflies then—like you were in a movie. However, you haven't seen this film before. The air around you felt serene, the mist of the fallen raindrops splashing all around you. He was close, too close, if that was possible. Your body nearly went into flight or flight at his gaze, his intention. He felt like the rain to you, all around you, soaking into you. You didn't know how to not think of him this way.

“Your face,” he hummed in the small space, your shelter—It was him. “You're dripping wet,” he said, and with a twitch of his hand, his fingers gracefully slid across your cheek, catching the drops in their fall—but he couldn't catch you as you fell.

You swore your soul left your body as he touched you. It was like he was destined to touch you. It may seem silly, especially to your incredibly logical thought process, to be melting under someone’s fingertips. It seemed utterly shameful to your mind that you feel like a puddle as if he was the melting point and you were just….well, mush. It was because of your lack of experience, maybe, that everything he did was heightened.

“Ah,” you fought the urge to lean into his touch. Even after he wiped away the raindrops, his hand still cradled your cheek, his eyebrows knotted in confusion. 

So you reached up, pressing your pointer finger between his brows. You eased his thoughts, resting his expression. “Don't do that,” you blinked up at him, watching his eyes widen at your touch. “You look prettier when you smile.”

He fought off his smile, but you still saw it. “Don't say that.” 

He did smile after he spoke this time, as if he couldn't hold it away.

When he smiled, you felt like you ruled the world.

“Why?”

His touch felt warm against your cold cheek.

“Because,” his eyes—oh, you loved them. They were so expressive, they made up for his lack of emotion. They spoke a million words, like a window into his hidden soul. “You'll confuse me.”

“I don't mean to confuse you, Mingi.” When you spoke his name, you could've sworn he sucked in a breath. “But think I’m a pretty straightforward person.”

He scoffed slightly, looking at his own hand and how it fit perfectly to your face. “You're so oblivious for someone who’s our valedictorian.”

You blinked quickly, the sound of the rain encapsulating the air around you. You were hyperaware of everything—his breaths, the beauty mark on his cheek, his hand on yours. His height, god, it stirred your guts around in more ways than one. 

The moment felt like forever. You stood there, trying to catch your breath, but he kept taking it away. It took you back to the day he saw you in the art studio, how he kept his distance but filled the room with so much care without speaking—he made you feel something no one ever will accomplish. 

When you arrived back at the school, you ended up in detention together, huge grins on both of your faces as you sat across from one another. When he smiled, your whole body tingled, and when he looked at you, you became his.

—

As the days move on, the leaves rot on the ground you walk on. You loved October. You belonged to the season. Your soul only lived during the death of summer.

Mingi, once again, followed you like a lost puppy. He sat next to you at lunch, not across from you, and just….sat contently. You both didn't speak. He watched you eat, watched you breathe. If he were anyone else, they would've been six feet down.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his body turned to you. 

You shrugged, looking over at him. You met his gaze, feeling those shocks once more. “Probably just studying for the chemistry exam.”

He nodded, sniffling. You frowned at him, now tilting yourself to face him. “Are you getting sick?” you asked him, unsure if you looked concerned or irritated.

He let a small smile reach his emotionless lips. “I don't know yet, it may be my allergies.”

You curtly nodded your head, and then you turned back to your food. He held his head up by his hand, staring at you, his eyes conflicted. You tried so hard not to turn towards him and kiss his lips. You weren't too sure how he would take that.

After another couple of moments of silence, he spoke again. “Do you want to come over tonight? To study, of course,” he interjected, which led your dirty, inexperienced mind into a fit of thoughts.

Were his parents going to be home? What was he planning on doing to you? Did he…did he have an ulterior motive?

Mingi broke you out of your thoughts. “I mean, if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet somewhere else—”

“No,” you cleared your throat, gripping your chopsticks tighter. “I mean, I would love to come over.”

His eyes twinkled as you met them, like shooting stars falling from the sky. He probably didn't realize that they did it, as his face didn't show any other hint of excitement.

“Okay, nice,” he said blandly, but once again, his eyes said otherwise. You dared to smile, causing him to smile back.

The sunlight danced across his honey skin through the blinds, and you just sat there, admiring him, dreaming about not-so-PG thoughts. 

—

Later on in the evening, you stood in your best efforts of an “effortless” look, anxiously looking at Mingi’s monstrous home. You assumed he was rich, but not this rich. 

The home was glorious, a mansion, if you will. You couldn't even count the windows before you started to feel the pit of your stomach growing bigger and bigger. You swallowed hard, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before pushing past the gates of the entrance. 

It took you a solid minute to knock on his door, which was probably bigger than your room alone. He took a while to answer, causing you even more anxiety. What if a goddamn maid opened the door? God, you'd book it so far that he’d never find you again—

“Y/n,” he hummed breathlessly as he opened the door, his hair dripping wet and his whole torso completely unclothed. Your eyes traveled without permission, noticing the droplets of water that dared to drip down his defined abs….down onto the edge of the towel that just barely covered his hips. You held back your animalistic cravings as you noticed his v-line, swallowing hard. “You’re early.”

You did not move your gaze—you continued to eyeball him without shame. He didn't seem to mind. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Should I leave?” you blinked, eyes rolling up from below to his gaze. He almost looked embarrassed, but there was something sinister in his emotional eyes.

He paused, noticing how you were looking at him. He swallowed hard, too, opening the door wider to let you in. “No…just….come in. Let me go put…..clothes on.”

You nearly smiled at his embarrassment. You followed him in, in awe of his broad shoulders and smooth skin, to the curve of his sides. You felt like an animal in heat.

You looked around the home, feeling….empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no mirrors. Not an ounce of an existence of family, or color, or comfort. It was cold—Void of emotion.

You sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, the ceilings a million feet high. The TV rested on the wall in front of you, bigger than your home. You didn't see anyone, or hear anyone other than Mingi. It felt lonely—yet you were only there for a minute or two.

When he came back into the room, fully dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats, you wondered how on earth that shirt drowned him. Maybe if you put it on, it would probably end below your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” he let out a small anxious chuckle. He stood in front of you, causing you to strain your neck and look up at him. “Should we study here or….?”

Some part of you wished that you weren't here to study. It was something about the feeling between you….it was burning red, fiery, and you craved to dive into its flames.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged. “Wherever you want, really.”

His presence is intoxicating. Your mind wanders to his gentle expression, to the water dripping down his head, and you begin to question your sanity. The range of emotions you feel for him was alarming—especially for you.

You follow him into the kitchen and set your bag down on the island. He stands and stares, similarly to how you were observing him earlier. 

As you tried to tutor him about chemicals and such, you looked up at him occasionally, only to find him looking at you.

“What?” you asked him softly, meeting his gaze. “Is there something you're confused about?”

He stared at you intently, his lips downturned. “Yes,” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is it? Is it about—”

“You,” he blinked, fiddling with his fingers. “I…you confuse me.”

Your eyes widened, your stomach tightening at his words. “How do I confuse you?”

“You just…” he sighed, setting down his pencil. “I never know what you're thinking, I guess.”

“Ditto,” you shrugged, keeping the eye-contact.

Silence. You just stared at each other, almost desperately, as you tried to understand what exactly was burning between you.

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his textbook. “Let’s just….” he swallowed hard, shutting his book with a forced smile. “Let’s study another time. How about we watch a movie?”

You met his gaze, feeling the air burn around you. His expression was indescribable—something you've never encountered before. You nodded, nonetheless, and when he stood up abruptly, you followed him like a lost puppy through his house, which was far from a home.

“Why are you alone?” you asked from behind, watching his large body move with such grace. 

He didn't look back as he responded. “My parents live in Seoul,” he hummed. “I’ve been alone.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine as his cold words echoed through you. He seemed to have bad blood with them, whoever they are, and your flighty personality has you wanting to seek them out to tell them how horrible it is to leave their child behind.

As you walked into the vast, empty living room, you stopped in your tracks.

“It must be lonely,” you murmured, to which he paused for a second. 

He let out a small laugh—a forced laugh—like he needed to pretend to be okay. You wished for the day he didn't need to pretend.

He sat down on the sectional, his long legs sprawling out. You looked at him before sitting down next to him, a reasonable distance away. He looked over at you, his eyes conflicted.

“What…. what's your favorite kind of movie?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You were concerned about what he would think about your opinion. 

“Horror,” you admitted, watching his eyes widen.

“Horror?” he reiterated, his expression grim. 

It was almost too cute. You nearly blushed.

You smirked, sliding in a bit closer to him. “What? Are you scared? I thought you were a big, tough guy.”

“..fine, ahem,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through that silvery hair of his. “I’ll put a horror movie on….since you like them.”

As the movie played, you sat next to each other, still a suffocating amount of space between you. You looked over at him, his expression wary, his hands balled up as if he were terrified. 

You scooted over closer to him, hearing his breath hitch. You weren't sure if it was because of you moving closer or because of the jumpscare on the TV. you leaned in slightly, whispering into his ear. “Are you scared, Mingi?” you giggled, causing him to jump.

“Fuck, he hissed, his eyes frazzled. He quickly tried to calm himself down, and he put a silly little smile on his face. “No, I just don't like getting jump scared, is all.”

You smiled at him, the distance now only inches. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously as the space between you two shrank and how his eyes lingered on your lips. You wanted him to reach out and press them to yours, like how it almost happened in the supply closet. You wanted to feel everything he could make you feel—more than you already felt.

As the movie went on, the loud, atrocious noises filled the space, but all you saw was him. The room was dark, and his features were highlighted by the small source of light coming from the television. You watched his eyes glimmer through the darkness as they landed on you, and you heard his breaths quicken.

And in that moment, you had enough.

You slowly reached out to him, your fingertips meeting the softness of his cheek. He frowned in confusion, but his eyes spoke more words than he’d ever said before.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I….” you swallowed hard, bringing up your other hand to cradle his face gently. “I just want to feel something. I….I want you to feel it, too.”

Your eyes meet his lips; his eyes do the same. You've never been this close to anyone….and he felt just right. Everything about him caused you to ache. To ache for his touch, his attention. You craved every part of him, even before he knew your name.

He shined in the sunlight, even when it rained. 

And with that look in his eye—that deep, desired look—you slowly pressed your lips to his unmoving ones, and after a moment, he kissed back with such passion you could swear you saw stars.

His hands held the back of your head, his lips parting yours. He let out a shaky breath as you kissed, and your hands trailed down to his chest. Something about this sparked something inside you, ignited a flame that was destined to burn for a lifetime. He parted your lips open, his tongue infiltrating your mouth smoothly. You let out a moan, causing him to deepen the simple kiss into something much more…sinister.

“Do you feel something now?” he hummed against your lips desperately. His hands gripped your jaw, the tips of his fingers tangling into the hairs at the base of your ears. “Please tell me that I make you feel something.”

“You do,” you mumbled breathlessly, your hand gliding up his cheek. He leaned into your touch as if he were deprived of it. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to kiss you like this for a while, to touch you like this for a while. Maybe, just like you, he ached to feel something, too. “God, Mingi, only you can make me feel this way.”

You looked at each other in between kisses. His eyes were lustful, yet, they looked like they could tear up any moment. You didn't know what you looked like to him, so you leaned in again, delicately pressing your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you more and more and more. 

He pulled back ever so slowly; his eyebrows knit together, his brown irises dead center on your eyes. He spoke a million words without ever opening his mouth or even parting his lips. You smiled at him, feeling more like yourself than you've ever felt before. 

He lit up your soul.

His eyes asked you kindly. You agreed with a soft nod, and then he whisked you away into bliss. 

He carried you with grace through the dark hall, dropping you on his bed. Your back hits the cold duvet, sending chills down your spine. For a moment, he just gazes down at you, the only source of light being the floor lamp in the corner of the room. His expression was one you understood for once—he was full of emotion, and he made you feel safe.

He sucked in a breath, and you watched intently as he lifted his shirt slowly over his head. He was nervous—obviously nervous, and you wondered why such a big, strong, stone-like man would be scared of something like this. You were confident he’d done this before—he had to have. 

“I won't bite you,” you breathed, looking up at him with your soulful eyes. However, your innocence only went so far here. You've been watching him for ages, trying not to feel this…whatever this was. A mix of love, lust, longing, belonging….and he finally saw you. 

You were going to eat him up if he let you, of course.

He let out a shaky laugh, standing there so delicately powerful. His muscles rose and fell in the shadows of the dark, his skin looking ever so soft. You sat up on the bed, reaching out to him. You gripped his waistband, pulling him into you. He breathed in as your fingertips touched the bare skin of his waist, and he held his breath as you pushed past that waistband….down his underwear, to find…

Holy fucking shit. 

That’s literally going to obliterate your insides.

You must've looked shocked because he suddenly pulled himself away from you. “W-what? Is something wrong?”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, to which he looked even more confused.

He looked distressed, so you stood up from the bed and walked up to him. He towered over you more than you've ever realized. You stood there in front of him for a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes frantically searching for your explanation.

“Is something wrong with it—”

“Mingi,” you breathed, basically moaned, his name as you fiddled at the hem of your shirt. He watched your hand, gulping. “You may just kill me with that.”

You flung your shirt across the room, and your hands then danced at your waist to undo your pants. 

He frowned, confused. “Kill you? How—”

Your pants dropped to the ground, and you kicked them aside. You were left in your underwear—a pretty pink set you've kept in your drawer for ages for a moment like this. You completely got him starstruck.

You watched his mouth part as he stared at your body. “What…uh,” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “I…” You stepped closer to him, gliding your hand to hold his cheek; he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch, taking a deep breath. 

You leaned forward, on the tips of your toes. “Are you going to take the rest off, or am I gonna have to do it for you, scaredy cat?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, his hands instinctively gripping onto your hips.

His eyes were lustful, his gaze ripping right through you like a knife would tear a heart. It was as if you offended him, and he grit his teeth as he slid your bra right over your head with one hand.

You smirked, your hands running up the sides of his face to run through his gorgeous hair. You found pleasure in his reactions—the way he savored his feelings as he closed his eyes.

“Is this your first time?” he whispered weakly as your lips found a home under his jaw. “Because I have a feeling it isn't—”

“And if it is?” you interrupted him, still creating your mark on his neck. “Will you not fuck me?”

“Oh, dear god,” he huffed, letting out a groan. He shoved you onto the bed, your back once again hitting the covers. This time, it felt even colder. “Where the hell did you get that mouth of yours?”

You tried to breathe, but you no longer remembered how to. “Why, do you not like it?”

He didn't answer you with words. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, his hard-on begging to break through his underwear. You laid there, your breasts on full display for him, and your stomach tightened as you saw his dick after he took everything off.

“Oh….” you gulped, raising your eyebrows in hopes that he didn't see your worry. You've never had sex, only with your own fingers, and as you looked down at his massive cock, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside you.

In fact, it turned you on just thinking about how…big he was. How he stood with confidence, turning red, his body physically showing his attraction to you, blood pumping, sweat pooling to the surface of his skin.

His size….you've always been obsessed with his size—it surrounded your every thought. This was the cherry on top of your fantasies.

He knelt over you, his body warmth making you even hotter. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you shamelessly moaned, meeting his flaming gaze.

“By kill, I mean,” you breathed in, pausing. “I mean, that dick of yours is like a goddamn weapon.”

His face was right over yours, and you watched a sinister smile fill his features. “Is that so?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss your lips. You moaned into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Mhm,” you whimpered as his dick pressed against your panties, and you ached for him to take them off. He was too captivated by your breasts to even think about the fact that they were still on. You looked down at his hands, and oh, they just completely encapsulated you, mind and body, body and soul. You wished for him to suck the living life out of you, to choke you until you saw whatever was beyond this life, if there was anything. His hands alone caused you to daydream about them bringing death to you and being pleasured by the hands of death. They were so large, so soft, so gentle. You wanted him to manhandle you, to tear you apart, to rip your heart in two and then sew it back together. Your mind was just rambling on now, but one thing was for sure.

You were in love with him.

“Mingi,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around his arm that worshiped your breasts. His eyes met yours, madly, desperately. “Take every part of me.”

He wasn't sure how to respond, and you knew it. He did, however, understand your request, and he kissed you from your breastbone to the mounds of skin, down your stomach, finally reaching where he needed to be. He kissed you there, right there, and you felt his hot breath radiate through the thin fabric. It was gone before you knew it, and he lined himself up on top of you, his chest heaving from breathlessness and desire.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked black in the moonlight, shining smoothly. He made you happy, everything about him.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke against your lips, the tip of his dick pressing against your entrance. You closed your eyes tightly as his thick cock slid into you. 

“I like the pain,” you said.

Your eyes watered, but the sound of his pleasure made everything better. Truthfully, you discovered something about yourself that you never knew. You loved that he was big. You loved how his cock still had length outside of you, even as he stuck himself fully in. You watched as he moved in, moved out, how his hips bucked against yours, and how he held you underneath him, tenderly, like he was afraid to shatter you like glass. You were his throne, his home, and he was your everything.

“Ah,” you hissed; this never felt before feeling tingling your insides, your stomach filling up with his length. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, tearing into his skin as he sped up. He seemed to like how you inflicted pain, and you continued to pierce his skin, carving your mark like writing initials into tree bark. 

It was bliss, your first time. The feeling of him pumping into you was addictive—you were sure you were going to want this every day for the rest of your life. You arched your back into him, wrapping your legs around him as you felt yourself reach your climax. You've never felt one before, and it was intoxicating. His breaths quickened along with his movements, and his hips rocked back and forth slightly, hitting new spots for your body to learn. He was your tutor, your teacher. Your daydream and your nightmare. You revolved around him as if he were your sun and you were his moon.

His expression changed as he looked at you—eye contact and all. You've never felt so intimate with someone your entire life, and strangely enough, despite your usual ignorance of emotions, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever. To gaze into his eyes forever. Maybe it was your youth; maybe it was your first life. 

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, his face contorted in pleasure. His tone of voice sent ripples through your body—it was deep, raspy. It rumbled through you, all around you. You loved his voice. You loved it so much that you wanted him to speak more and more and more.

“Say that again,” you moaned, sweat dripping down your temple as the top of your head hit the headboard. “Please.”

“You,” he breathed, lifting one of your legs up to burrow in you deeper— as if it were possible with the size of his dick. He hit a new spot, causing you to toss in his embrace, begging for more. “...You are beautiful.”

“God fuck, Mingi,” you quite literally snarled, gripping his shoulders to switch positions, you now sitting right on top of him. You looked down on him, finding gratification in his sexily fatigued expression. His eyes were barely open, his chest heaving, his hands gripping the sheets. “I love the sound of your fucking voice.”

And with that, you began to ride him, watching his features twist with such interesting emotions you've never seen before. When he began to breathe quicker and quicker, you watched how his eyes widened, how his big, veiny but gentle hands came up to fist your hair. You cried out, eyes watering, pain sparking down your neck—but you loved it. 

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved you onto your stomach, face full of pillow and the sweet smell of Mingi’s hair wash. You closed your eyes as he re-entered you, his hands putting pressure on the small of your back.

And as he let out a deep, bone-crushing moan, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. He pulled out quickly, and came on your back, painting himself all over you.

The only sound through the silence was the huffing of your breaths, your face flushed, hidden from him. He let out a slight, rumbly laugh—music to your ears.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” he spoke softly, his fingertips dancing down the side of your waist as if he were appreciating your structure. 

He cleaned you up with such softness as if this weren't the man that was just fisting your hair and slamming his dick into you. You lay in his bed, naked, your stomach aching, your legs weak. 

He laid next to you, his shower he had just taken before this turned utterly pointless, his body covered in sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and you reached out, brushing it up. You smiled at him as he stared at you with fascination.

And then, in the comfort of his embrace, you fell asleep, dreaming of him.

—

When you awoke in the morning, he was no longer there.

Your youthful mind didn't jump to conclusions—you slowly rolled out of his California king and picked up his huge t-shirt, tossing it on without anything else. It drowned you, down to your knees like you expected, and you giggled in bliss. It smelled like him.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you saw a cup of steaming coffee on the island. Mingi was facing away from you, the back of his head messy, silver hair standing up everywhere.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He quickly turned around, a goofy smile plastered on his face. 

You felt the rush of blood reach the tips of your ears.

He inspected your outfit—or his outfit—and that goofy smile widened even more. “My shirt, huh?”

You wrapped your arms around your body. “It was the first thing I picked up.”

“I like it,” he smirked, walking over to you, his arms taking the place of yours. “I love it, actually.”

You embraced him, feeling finally happy. “You're a lot more colorful than usual,” you acknowledged, feeling his heartbeat through his chest. 

“You must've painted me in a new light,” he hummed, resting his head on the top of yours. 

You tried to escape his embrace, but he tightened it, shaking his head. “You're not leaving me.”

You giggled, trying to playfully push him away. “Mingi, what time is it?”

He paused. “Uh….”

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. Your own eyes widened.

“School, oh my god, we forgot about school!”

—

You held Mingi’s large hand as you sprinted down the road to your school. After a pit stop at your home for your uniform and a blissful moment of a makeout outside the door, you barreled as fast as you could, knowing you were gonna get punished. Even so, you laughed the whole way, and when your tardiness landed you in detention, you couldn't of been happier to end up in a room with Mingi.

The teacher left the room for a moment, and as the door shut, Mingi launched out of his seat and attacked you with his lips, his hands in your hair, his teeth clashing with yours as he smiled as wide as ever.

The next day, you watched him sit in the sunlight in homeroom, noticing his hair shine—the same head of hair you ran through as he made love to you a few nights before.

He liked sitting by windows. It brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. 

He was the moon during the day, right before the sun sets. And you, well, you were finally a star in his almost-night sky.

—

Winter break was approaching. Students were talking. You didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, he made it painfully obvious, sitting next to you with every chance he got, touching you as much as he could, smiling so wide it was unlike his usual persona.

The question dwindled over your head. Many people asked you, talked to you, and inquired about your relationship with him. You didn't exactly know what to tell them—you never actually labeled whatever this was. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as it just mattered that you were blissfully happy for however long it may last. You were going to enjoy this time you had with him, knowing that college was approaching.

“Y/n!” a loud voice boomed through the study hall class, a few students turning their heads in confusion. You met eyes with Yunho, one of Mingi’s best friends. You frowned, confused as to why he was calling for you. There was no teacher as the class didn't start yet, so you weren't too alarmed.

“What?” you asked him.

He took a sharp breath in, hands on his knees like he ran a marathon. “It’s Mingi—he got hurt on his way to school—”

You stood up quickly, eyes wide. “What? Where is he?”

“In the nurses—”

You didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. You ran down the hall, even though class was about to start. 

You let out a loud breath when you reached the nurse’s office. “Mingi? Are you okay—”

With a tight grip on your wrist, he tugged you into the office, slamming the door behind you.

He stood there, perfectly fine, with a boyish smile on his face.

You hit his chest. “What the hell? I thought you were hurt?”

He giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “Mmh. No, I just wanted to do this.” he kissed you again, his hands tilting your chin up with such tenderness. 

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You're such a sneak.” 

“Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?” he teased, pecking your nose and then your lips. “Because I will.”

You chuckled, kissing him more. “It’ll  probably clear up all the rumors about us,” you shrugged, ruffling his hair as you kissed him again.

“People are so nosy,” he mumbled. “Can't two people date in peace?” 

You pulled back in his embrace, a glimmer of mischief in your gaze. “Oh?” you tilted your head, and as he went in for another kiss, you pressed a finger to his lips. “Were dating, huh?”

He blinked as if you said something completely insane. “Huh?” he furrowed his brows. “Haven't we been dating?”

You smirked, teasing him. “Since when?”

He scoffed, but still held onto you. “Uh, since I literally fucked the living shit out of you?”

You laughed at his vulgarity, pressing your lips to his in a long, sensual kiss. “So were dating now?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that if you never said it?”

“Because you're the fucking valedictorian, y/n.”

You stared at his confused face, smiling wider than you've ever smiled. “Okay,” you nodded, watching his eyes sparkle down at you. “Boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” he giggled like a child, grabbing both your cheeks and kissing you over and over again. “My girlfriend.”

You never saw yourself as cheesy and didn't see him as the cheesy kind, either. But there you were, in each other's arms in the run-down, empty nurses office, blissfully unaware of how the future will work out for you. But now was the time, not then, not when. It was now, and now you loved him. 

You were his tutor, his happiness, his light, even if you never thought you could ever brighten up someone’s life. 

It was this moment— you declared that you were utterly, irrevocably in love with him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

The future isn't guaranteed, but you both will live on, together maybe, who knows? You were young and in love, but who says it won't work? Your hearts will live for each other, whatever the future brings you.

He was the daydream to your nightmare.

[idlerin]

NONSENSE

an oikawa tooru social media au

pairing. celebrity!oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

tags. social media au, celebrity smau, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, idiots in love, crack, humor (hopefully), fluff, and perhaps a little angst? ehe (groveling !!)

warnings. time stamps dont really matter unless i say so, cursing, some drinking alcohol n stuff and sometimes suggestive but nothing graphic

status. completed (01/15/23 - 02/11/24)

— playlist.

teasers

teaser 1 — teaser 1.5 — teaser 2

profiles

[name]’s pe(s)ts | in need of medical attention

episodes !

(⚘) — has narrative parts

ACT I

01. rid me of my despair

02. murder is ethically wrong

03. he’s literally everywhere

04. i’m NOT petty (⚘)

05. i think i’ve seen this film before

06. he’s back !

07. baby girl of all baby girls

08. the famous friend

09. forget me not

10. why are you running!? (⚘)

ACT II

11. blast from the past

12. i despise you (⚘)

13. villains are hot (⚘)

14. adulting and other important stuff (⚘)

15. what we look forward to

16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

17. antithetical girlie

18. this is the tactic (⚘)

19. honey it hurts (⚘)

20. exes and ohs

21. takoyaki cravings

22. kill me with kindness

23. tell me, tell me (⚘)

24. do you think about me?

25. wish u were sober (⚘)

ACT III

26. you look like shit (⚘)

27. a taste of fame

28. reminds me of

29. helpless, breathless (⚘)

30. oh how you woo me

31. all over again

32. disconnected

33. this love is so illogical

34. don’t care if you ruin me (⚘)

35. hate clingy men

36. need you like oxygen (⚘)

37. media craze

38. hard to love (⚘)

39. coming home

40. only your love

EPILOGUE

41. new friends

42. love languages

43. utterly nonsensical

end

✦

bonus content

post break-up [name]

don’t you know that i’m intoxicated !

you said you liked the way i spoke

unsent letter #1

one of the boys

kuroo being a menace for 12 panels straight

taglist is CLOSED !

to be REMOVED from the taglist you can just send an ask or comment :)

notes. hey so i’m starting my first smau series?!!? *squeals and kicks feet in excitement* i hope i get to finish it lmao i plan to not make it that long prolly around only like 30 chaps! hope u’ll enjoy reading it as much as i’ll enjoy making it! also thank you everyone for 200 followers! i rlly appreciate it <3

icons used as pfps are not mine but the content of this smau is. please do not repost this on any other platform. © idlerin 2023

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Accidents Happen

Family is More than Blood AU 

Summary: When Carol has a nightmare and hurts you with her powers, your sisters don’t take it to well. 

Warning: A whole lot of angst, mention of a nightmare, mention of injury 

Word Count: 3.1k 

Natasha was a little surprised to find you in Wanda’s room sitting on her bed while the Sokovian was in her closet. “Hey Nat,” you said when you noticed her in the doorway. “What’s up?”

“I was just looking for you,” she leaned against the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Oh!” Natasha watched the smile grow on your face. “Carol is taking me on a date and I’m running out of date outfits so Wanda offered her assistance.” Wanda stuck her head out of the closet and smiled at the Black Widow. “Do you need something?” You asked. Natasha smiled, shaking her head but she felt a weird feeling bubble in her chest. 

“Nope,” she said. “Have fun tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” You laughed and your attention was back on Wanda as she stepped out of the closet with a few dress options. Natasha walked out of Wanda’s room as soon she was a good distance away her smile fell. It seemed like every time Yelena or her tried to do anything with you Carol seemed to have something planned. It was frustrating but Natasha had never seen your smile so big. She felt that feeling again deep within her chest. There was a bitter taste in her mouth. She gasped, stopping in the hallway. Jealous. She was jealous of the time you and Carol were spending together. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the feeling, and walked into Yelena’s room. 

“Is she not coming?” The blonde asked. Natasha shook her head. Yelena sighed but she smiled. “That’s okay! We’ll still have fun.” Natasha smiled, pulling her sister into a hug. 

“You're right,” she said. “Now we can gossip about her.” Yelena giggled, the smile not reaching her eyes. 

*

“Tonight was fun,” you said, walking into your room with Carol close behind. 

“It was,” you squeaked as you felt her arms wrap around your waist pulling you flush to her chest. “You looked beautiful tonight,” she kissed your shoulder and you felt goosebumps form over your skin. You pulled out of her arms with a smirk. 

“Help me take the dress off,” you said, walking into the bathroom. Carol followed you without hesitation. 

*

You lay awake next to Carol tracing shapes on her skin. She was fast asleep next to you, laying on her back. You knew you should get some sleep as you promised Yelena you would go on a morning run with her but your mind wouldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe this was your life. You were out of the Red Room living with your sisters and the Avengers and going on dates with a girl you liked. It was your dream come true. 

Whimpers coming from the woman next to you broke you out of your daydream. You sat up slowly to look at Carol. Her eyebrows were scrunched together and a thin line of sweat was covering her forehead. A nightmare. “Hey darling,” you whispered. “Wake up for me. You're safe. It’s just a nightmare.”

“No,” Carol mumbled. “Not her. Please.” Your heart broke. “Take me. Take me.” She began to thrash in her sleep. You had to wake her up before she hurt herself. 

“Sweetheart, wake up. Come back to me.” It happened rather quickly. Her hands began to glow and before you could get out of the way, a blast from her powers hit you directly. It sent you flying backward and you hit the wall hard. Stars covered your vision as you slid down to the ground. You hissed in pain, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Fuck,” you barely could make out Carol sitting up in bed. But her eyes found you instantly. “Y/n,” Carol stuttered. 

“It’s,” you winced. “It’s okay.” Before Carol could move over to you, your door flew open and you saw your sisters running over to you. 

“What did you do?” Natasha barked at Carol. It was becoming hard to keep your eyes open. 

“Carol,” you mumbled. “Accident.” 

“Get away from her,” you heard Yelena snap. “We need to get her to the med bay.” That was the last thing you heard before the world went dark. 

*

You woke up extremely thirsty and in the med bay. There was a pounding in your head as you tried to sit up. “Hey,” you heard Wanda’s voice. “Take it easy.” She helped you sit up. 

‘Water,’ you thought. The Sovokvian handed you a water bottle and you downed the entire thing. “How long have I been here?” You asked her. 

“2 days,” she said. “Your injuries were pretty extensive. Helen had to use the cradle,” you looked down at your arms and saw that the burns were gone. Your skin felt normal, and some of your old scars were gone. “The serum saved your life.”  

“Where’s Carol?” Wanda sighed. 

“I don’t know,” but she wasn’t being fully honest, she wouldn’t look at you. “I saw Natasha and Yelena talking to her,” she bit her lip. “I heard Steve saying she took off for a mission.” Your heart skipped. You tore the IV out of your arm and stood up. Your legs were a little shaky and you ignored Wanda calling out for you as you left the room. 

“Hey,” Natasha said, walking over to you with Yelena and Maria. “What are you doing out of bed?” 

“What did you do?” You asked, ignoring her question and the ache radiating from your body. Her poker face was amazing but you knew your sister and everyone had a tell. There was a small twitch of her left eyebrow. “What did you say to Carol?”

“Nothing,” she said. She was lying. “She could have killed you.”

“It was an accident,” you admitted. “She was having a nightmare and woke up and reacted. How many times have you hurt Maria because of a nightmare?” You asked. 

“It’s a little different,” Yelena said, not allowing time for Natasha to answer. You looked at the blonde. ‘We don’t have powers as she does.” You looked at them in disbelief. 

“It’s the same thing. We wake up from a nightmare sometimes out of control,” you heard Wanda walk next to you. “So I’m going to ask again. What did you say to her that caused her to leave?” You asked. 

“We didn’t say anything,” Natasha said. “Now come on you need to rest,” she moved to grab your hand but you pulled away from her. You didn’t believe her. Carol wouldn’t just leave without making sure you were okay. Right? Right?

“Natalie,” you said slowly. “Stop lying to me.” You held her glare. Finally, she sighed. 

“I told her that it would be best if she wasn’t here when you woke up,” your stomach flipped and the color drained from your face. 

“What?” You questioned. “Why-why would you do that?”

“She could have killed you,” she took another step towards you but you backed away from her. You needed space. “She’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” You questioned. 

“We just want what’s best for you,” Yelena added. 

“Best for me?” It was hard for your brain to connect what they were saying. Your brain was short-circuiting. “You wanted to do what was best for me but you made a decision that wasn’t yours to make,” you said. You rubbed your head. “You did it for your benefit, not mine. Why’d you do it?”

“Carol-”

“Stop,” you hissed, cutting Natasha off. “Stop making this conversation about her when her hurting me was an accident because if she was in the right state of mine she wouldn’t hurt me or anyone of us,” you hated this rage that was building inside of you especially since it was directed at your sisters'. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why did you tell her to leave?” Still, they didn’t answer. Your sisters were as stubborn as a mule. So you focused your attention on Maria. “You’ve been quiet over there,” you said to her. “Did you not have a hand in what my sisters did?” She crossed her arms, a clear scene of protecting herself. 

“I did not,” you hummed, looking back at Natasha and Yelena. The youngest couldn’t even look at you anymore.

“I could always ask Wanda,” you said. “Have her take a peek inside your head.” They both had a physical reaction to that. Natasha through her arms to the side with a huff. 

“Carol has been hogging you for weeks. We barely get to see you.” You blinked at her, allowing her words to sit with you. 

“Jealousy,” you said, slowly. “You told Carol to leave the compound because you were jealous.”  

“Well,” Yelena said. “There is more to it than that.” You laughed.   

“Oh, is there?” You asked. “Because do you want to see it from my point of view? You are selfish,” Yelena’s eyes began to water. “If there is a problem you come talk to me and not take matters into your hand and pushed away someone I l-care about,” you stopped yourself from admitting something you weren’t sure about. “I’ve admitted to both of how jealous I am of the life you’ve got to live and I’ve never tried to break it apart. You-” your voice cracked. “Is this why you never came back for me?” You hit a nerve as Natasha’s face morphed into sadness. 

“Y/n,” she said. 

“I guess I don’t deserve the same happiness, right?” A part of you regretted saying it. “You didn’t want me to steal what you already have.” 

“Please stop saying that,” Yelena pleaded. “That’s not true.” 

“Yeah it hurts, doesn’t it?” you shook your head and pushed past them. You ran to your room, using the adrenaline to push past the pain. When you got to your room, you immediately called Carol unsure if the call was going to go through. You paced back and forth listening to it ring. “Hey, can you call me when you get this? Please. I’m not mad at you. I just want to talk.” You hung up, biting your nails. You called her again and like before she didn’t answer. “I don’t know what they said to you but I’m okay. I just need you to come home.” You hung up. You called three more times throughout the day, leaving voicemails and text messages but she didn’t respond. 

After 24 hours since you woke up from med bay you had enough. FRIDAY told you Tony was in his lab with Rhodey. You stormed in. “Woah,” Tony said, holding up his hands. “Where’s the fire, Big Spider?” 

“I need you to send me to space.”

“Excuse me?” The billionaire questioned. 

“This is about Carol, right?” Rhodey asked. You ignored him and stared at Tony.

“Here is what’s going to happen,” you said, placing your hands on the table. “You are either going to send me to space or give me a way to speak with Carol. Because I’m this close,” you put your fingers close together. “To lose my fucking mind.” You cleaned closer to him. “And trust me, Tony, you don’t want to be on my warpath.” Tony gulped. His eyes nervously glanced at the man sitting next to him. 

“Okay,” Tony said. “We have a direct line to her ship that we use for emergencies.” 

“And this seems like an emergency," Rhodey added. 

“Follow me.” You followed Tony to a conference room where a computer was set up. “Just press enter and it will connect.” You nodded. 

“Tony,” he faced you. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled. You sat down at the computer and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. It was wrong to take your anger out on Tony when it wasn’t his fault. You made a mental note to apologize to him. Your heart was in your throat as you hit enter and waited for the video to connect. 

“Stark is there -” her voice cut off as she saw you. She was standing in the hallway of her ship. 

“Please don’t hang up,” you said suddenly. “Hi,” you whispered. She looked tired, bags underneath her eyes. “I’m not mad at you. I wasn’t sure if you got my messages.” 

“I did,” she said. That hurt a little more than you thought as she was ignoring your calls. 

“Oh, okay,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t know what they said to you to make you leave but it was an accident. I know you would never hurt me. What hurt more was when I woke up and the one person I wanted to see wasn’t there,” your throat burned as you tried to keep the tears back. “When will you be home?”

“Mission will take about a week,” you nodded, unable to look at her anymore. You angrily whipped away a tear. 

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Sweetheart,” the pet name caused you to look up. “I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure what she was apologizing for but you nodded and ended the call. You closed your eyes, tasting the salt of your tears. Every wound or bruise you’ve gotten didn’t hurt as much compared to this feeling. Your heart was hurting. You were fighting with your sisters and Carol was avoiding you. You fell to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest. You covered your mouth to quiet your sobs. Your entire body shook. When was the last time you let yourself cry this much? You heard footsteps walking over to you. Through your blurry eyes, you saw that it was Wanda. Without saying anything, she knelt next to you and hugged you. 

“Every-everything h-hurts,” you cried against her. 

“I know,” she said, running her fingers through your hair. “I need you to breathe for me.” You shook your head. 

“I can’t,” your lungs were burning. You couldn’t bring in enough air. “Help,” you pleaded. “Help me.” 

“Are you sure?” Instead of answering you brought her hand to your temple. You closed your eyes. Soon your mind went blank and you fell into a deep sleep. 

*

Four days passed since the nightmare incident, and everyone besides Wanda and Vision knew to stay out of their way. You weren’t talking to Natasha and Yelena, even ignoring Melina when she called. Your blood still boiled every time you thought about what they said. You were cutting into a peanut butter angrily when FRIDAY said, “Miss. Y/n, your presence is being requested at the helipad.” You dropped the knife and ran to the elevator, praying for the metal machine to go faster. When the elevator opened, you were standing in front of Carol. 

“Hi, stranger,” you said, slightly out of breath. Carol chuckled. 

“That’s my line,” she smiled. You hesitated unsure of where she was at. She opened her arms, silently inviting you into a hug. You ran over to her, jumping into her arms. She tensed up slightly but soon relaxed against you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she kissed the top of your head. 

“What are you apologizing for?” You asked, stepping back slightly. 

“For hurting you when I had that nightmare, for not being in the med bay when you woke up, for everything,” you smiled, placing a hand on your cheek and moving your thumb against her skin. She leaned into your touch. 

“I had to admit it hurt,” you said. “We are a team and when things get tough we figure it out together.” 

“I could have killed you,” she whispered. 

“And the same thing could have happened if I woke up from a nightmare. I’ve almost broken Alexei’s arm,” she looked down but you forced her to look at you. “We’ve all been through some shit that has affected us but we are stronger together, right?” 

“Right,” she smiled. You moved your hands behind her neck. 

“Can I kiss you?” Her smile grew and she kissed you. You didn’t realize how much you missed kissing her. Her lips were soft against yours and she made your heart beat against your ribs. “Come on,” you said, ending the kiss. “I want to hear all about space. You need to take me up there.” She put her arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “But wait, I thought you said the mission was going to take a week.” Carol hit the button for the elevator. 

“I got a call from Natasha,” she led you into as the doors opened. “She said I’m needed here more than in space.” 

*

Natasha closed the book she was reading when someone knocked at her door. She sighed, closed her book, and walked over to the door. It was a surprise that you were on the other side. You haven’t spoken to her since you stormed out of med bay which Natasha understood but she wished you could talk to her. “Can I come in?” She nodded, stepping out of the way. Natasha closed the door and sat back on the bed but you didn’t join her. Instead, you crossed your arms and stood by the foot of her bed. “Carol told me you apologized.” Natasha nodded. 

“Yelena and I both did,” you nodded. “I am sorry. You were right. I did what I did for myself and not for you.” Your jaw clenched but you took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. 

“I said some things that day I’m not proud of and I’m sorry,” Natasha knew there was more. “But I’m still mad and I-” you cleared your throat, hugging yourself tighter. “It hurt, Nat, really bad. I feel like I have everything I missed out on; you and Yelena, a family that cares about me, and a girl that likes me.” You looked at her. “Everything you’ve had for years. I have now.” Natasha forced herself to look at you when all she wanted to do was look away and let the tears fall. 

“Sestra, what can I do to make this right?” You sighed. 

“I don’t know,” you said. She felt the wall she built up come crumbling down. “I still love you and Yelena but I need to figure it out. I need to be selfish for once in my life.” Natasha nodded. 

“Of course, we’ll be here,” you nodded, turning to leave but Natasha said your name which caused you to stop. “Sila v pravde (Strength is in truth).” She watched your shoulders shake but you didn’t turn around and walked out of her room, closing the door behind you. It was a phrase that you said to each other when you lived in Ohio. You tried to continue it in the Red Room but Natasha kept her distance. Natasha closed her eyes, expecting the tears to fall but they didn’t. She felt oddly numb. No bruise or broken bone or gunshot could compare to this ache she was feeling. All she wanted was to go back in time and undo what she did. She wanted her sister back. 

Part 2

[litnerdwrites]

Justice for Nesta recs (AO3)

Most, if not all, of these recs are in the Justice for Nesta/ ACOSF rewrite/fix-it vein. It will be updates as I find more fics, but feel free to send any recs you have.

TRIGGER WARNING! Many of these fics will be very dark, with references to suicide, ptsd, misogyny, and IC BS. However, I'll be sure to add specifics where applicable.

Fics For Those Craving Nesta JusticeI put all the fics I found into one collection on AO3 that, as the title suggests, are for those craving Nesta Justice. Please read the relevant tags for each fic, as many of them contain reference to PTSD, SA (both past referenced and in story), and general IC BS.

I'll also list every fic in this collection bellow, just to keep them all in one place. Feel free to also add your own finds or works if you have any. The collection is open, but moderated.

Those the Stars Cannot Hear by @kataraavatara An ACOSF rewrite where Mor makes good on her threat to leave Nesta in the CON.

Baby, now we got bad blood by Pumpkinspice_Lou They say you should never come between a male and his mate. Rhysand should've known better. Aka Cassian finally choosing Nesta. Completed two-shot.

A Court of Vice and Victors by Wishcamper Acosf rewritten by a therapist. Need I say more? Incomplete.

You Made Her Like That By BookWorm77071 A few days into their Hike from Hell, Nesta is able to form one coherent thought: I don't want to do this anymore. So she stops. Three chapter short story. Completed.

Nesta becomes a baby by Theladyofbloodshed Exactly what the title says. Oneshot.

A Court of Tangled Flames by Theladyofbloodshed A Neris fic where Nesta gets the love story she deserves.

ACOTAR snippet collection by Theladyofbloodshed A collection of Acotar what ifs.

Nesta vs. The Buffer by Theladyofbloodshed After Nesta finally snaps at another 'family' dinner, calling Cassian and Mor out on their shit, she begins to heal and fall in love on her own terms. With a certain shadowsinger. Completed. Nezriel fic. Anti IC but they kind of redeem themselves at the end. Completed.

AU Where We Pretend Acosf Didn't Happen by Theladyofbloodshed An alternative take to ACOSF, starting from post ACOFS. Nesta ends up leaving Velaris, starting herself on a journey of self discovery and healing. TW Beron Vansera, implied/referenced SA, IC being assholes.

Nightmare Dressed Like A Daydream by This_Immortal_Hope Nesta was a wolf. So, much like a wolf, she bided her time, accepting her exile with ice in her and determination in her heart. When she was ready, she tore their Court of Dreams apart with their own hypocrisy. One shot. No ship. Rhysand is thoroughly put in his place. Oneshot.

Second Chances by miryamdev Cassian apologises to Nesta after the HOFAS bonus chapter.

A trick of the light by closet_monster There was nothing condemning about madness or paralyzing fear. Nesta was familiar with both — they seemed to be a recurring theme in both womanhood and life in Hewn. Oneshot. TW Depression, self harm, and implied abuse. Please double check the tags before reading.

Burn for Eternity by rosemai Nesta is defeated and broken down by the words of her sisters and the IC, so she takes matters into her own hands and meets a group on individuals who could give her the help she needs. Incomplete.

Nesta's Truth by grovellingboyfriends After another year of leaving Nesta alone, Cassian finds Nesta in her apartment on Solstice, standing over a dead man. TW for implied SA, parental abuse, Elain is a bitch. 3/5 chapters published as of making this post.

Daylight by Flowerflamestar Nesta Archeron, banished and betrayed, ran from cold and hatred straight into the light of Day and found a place where she could belong. Completed.

Might I Suggest You Don't Fuck With My Sis by MacabreGiggles The intervention rethought, where the Archeron sisters decide to stand up for one another and put the IC in their place. Incomplete.

I died. I will die. It's alright. I don't mind. By MacabreGiggles Nesta resorts to other means to cope, like drugs. Incomplete. TW. Abuse. Alcolism. Suicide. Sexual assault. Drug abuse.

The Veil of Silence by Hrizantemy There exists a veil of silence, it shrouds our voices masking our truths, muffling our cries, our voices are muted, and dreams whispered. Incomplete.

You're a crisis of my faith by porque_nolosdos Nesta and Elain leave the NC, and upon seeing the IC's reaction, Feyre decides to ditch them too. Incomplete.

A thousand cuts by adelindschade It finally clicks for Cassian just how badly Nesta was hurting (it only took three TW suicide TW attempts), so he decides to try thinking of what Nesta would want. This decision leaves a ripple effect that will change the NC as we know it. Incomplete.

The consequences of normality by TheTeaQueen After the events of ACOSF, things seem relatively normal. Until Cassian realises that Nesta doesn't ask for things, or that self hatred still grips her, or the facade she puts on for her family. When she starts cutting back on training and work in the library, he begins to worry. Maybe things aren't as perfect as he thought. Maybe their methods in helping her weren't as effective as he thought. Incomplete.

Three little words by TheTeaQueen Cassian finally says those three little words that Nesta needed to hear. Oneshot.

Like fire, she raged by TheTeaQueen Emerie stands up for Nesta and puts Rhys and Feyre in their place. Completed.

Of Death and Resurrection by TheTeaQueen Part 1 of In the name of healing and happiness. Nesta was ready to die. So to save Feyre and Nyx, she did. Can Rhysand, the only person who can save her, bring her back from the brink? Completed. TW Implied suicide, rape/sa, anti Elain.

Of Shadows and Light by TheTeaQueen Part 2 of In the name of healing and happiness. Technically more of a Gwynriel fic, but does have some Nessian since it follows the aftermath of Of death and Resurrection, only Azriel, Gwyn & Elain are the main focus. Ties up a lose thread or two from part 1, and is 100% Anti Elain. Completed. TW Implied child abuse, implied suicide, torture.

Of Reopened Wounds and Retribution by TheTeaQueen Part 3 of In the name of healing and happiness. A trip to the human lands to discuss the treaty leads Nesta to face Thomas Mandray again. This time, she has family willing to go to hell and back for her. Incomplete. TW Implied rape/sa, panic attack.

Lady Death and Her Kingdom by TheTeaQueen Amren pushes Nesta too far, causing her to awaken a strange new power. TW Implied child abuse. Incomplete.

The Hike, Alternatively by TheTeaQueen An alternative take on The Hike from Hell, where Nesta attempt to TW commit suicide TW, and Cassian realises just how messed up their methods, and the events leading up to the hike are. Written for Suicide prevention month. Completed. TW Self harm, suicide, The Hike.

To Pay a Debt by TheTeaQueen When Nesta sees that Feyre didn't include her in any of the paintings, she does the only thing she can think of; Run. Incomplete. TW, attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, mentioned sa.

Burning from the Inside out by TheTeaQueen An au where Nesta's secretly lived with Chronic pain her whole life, only for the cauldron and her new powers to exacerbate it. Complete. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, suicidal thoughts, ableism, internalised ableism.

The Whole Truth by TheTeaQueen An alternative take where Nesta's deepest secret comes to light when Elain explodes at the dinner table one night. This forces the IC and her sisters to reevaluate their perception of her. Incomplete. TW: Child abuse, suicidal thoughts/ideation, forced prostitution, sexual assault (underage!!)

Set my Soul Alight by moodymelanist Nesta finds solace in Autumn. No Nessian. Completed. TW Implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced rape, implied/referenced torture.

Falling by becauseofreading Another take on what happens after Cassian tells Nesta that everybody hates her. Incomplete. TW Self harm, suicidal thoughts, blood and injuries.

Destruction and Renewal by Vorbi Nesta is given the opportunity to form new alliances. Initially, she scoffs at the idea, but after a small, final act of disrespect from the IC, she decides to see where this new path leads us. Incomplete. TW Implied/referenced abuse.

No One Likes A Mad Woman by Separatist_Apologist You made her like that. Nesta has had her choices tripped away, so when Eris offers her an out, she takes it. No happy ending for Cassian. The Night Court gets no sympathy. Completed. TW Domestic violence

A Cup of Tea by shaziskhalid After realising that the Cassian of her dreams isn't the Cassian she's mated to, everything changed. (MCU! Wanda, modern Au). Incomplete.

Promise by Daughterofthesea Begins during that scene where Cassian follows Nesta, and ends with him understanding just how much pain she's in, and deciding to actually help her.

Stay here (I love you, but I need another year) by littleplease Nesta is tired, and losing the will to even try. Complete. TW Apathy, depression, vuage suicidal thoughts.

What you did to me (I'll spend my life trying to rise) by filthymouthedslut Nesta is done with the IC's holier-than-thou attitude. No ship. Incomplete (3/4) as of updating this post.

Everybody hates you by Booksandsushi A different take on the time Cassian tells Nesta that Everybody hates her. Incomplete.

Change is good by Booksandsushi Nesta figures her life out on her own. Complete.

Truth of the Heart By TheFreakPanda The months after ACOFAS leave Nesta presented with some new opportunities. Full of therapy and dancing. Completed.

I've Always Liked to Play with Fire by catalyste After her village is destroyed and family killed by Hybern following Feyre's revenge mission, you wake up healed in the NC. After Lucien leaves you there, you find yourself trapped with Nesta Archeron, who turns out to be an unlikely ally. The two of you plan your escape with the help of Eris Vansera. Polly, Neris/reader, with IC bashing, and dragons. Incomplete.

The relapse by Janes_Melodies Something broke in Nesta when she learned about the results of the vote, knowing it was a tie until Feyre. She was trying for her sisters and for Cassian, yet they still think she's cruel enough to create a whole new trove just to kill them all. For the first time in months, she gave into her desires. Incomplete. TW Alcoholism, Implied/referenced self harm, suicidal thoughts.

You're safe now by annieleonhardtsring Rewrite of the scene where Nesta falls down the stairs, and Azriel stands up for her. Complete.

Love her how she should be loved by julemmaes Cassian overhears his family making some not-so-subtle comments about Nesta, and it pushes him over the edge. So he goes to bat for her, blaming his friends for everything wrong with their relationship with his girlfriend. Modern AU completed.

The Nest World - The Next Life by bat_called_phil ACOSF canon divergence fic that starts with the intervention, but diverts when Nesta takes a stand for herself, and Feyre starts holding Rhys accountable. TW Implied/referenced suicide, Implied/referenced abortion.

A Court of Spite and Isolation by xxTAO Nesta choses the human lands, separated from the IC and the distractions from her trauma, she spirals. Incomplete (4/6) TW Suicidal thoughts, Implied/referenced alcoholism, Suicide attempt.

Come Home by Rhysanoodle Cassian learns how Nesta's been living since she came to Illyria, and which fears haunt her the most. Complete.

[facioleeknow]

Frat boy 2 • Choi Seungcheol

WC: 868. Genre: Frat boy au

TW: bisexual Vernon and Reader, suggestive thoughts, sassy writing, maths

He fell first and hard. She thinks he hates her but he's actually emotionally constipated.

Mathematics sucks. Most people can agreed on that, approximately 90% percent of the world's population. The bad news is that those 10% appeared to have been on the board at your colleges but that same wretched subject was a MANDATORY subject. 

So here you were sat first row because of your very poor eyesight instead of the back where you could sleep trying to make sense of Mathematics I. Your head started pounding as soon as you got into the class, the air in the room was enough to make you feel like you wanted to claw your eyes out. The scribbles on the blackboard made absolutely no sense. You looked around, everyone was nodding and happily writing along the professor. This had to be a nightmare, the ones where nothing makes sense and people glare at you like you're the weird one.

Unfortunately for you this was reality. Hard, cold and ruthless reality. You let your head hit the desk with a rather loud thud, you didn't care anymore nor did the professor in your defense. Daydreaming was the only thing that could save you from a full blown migraine, which you clearly didn't want. Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply and tried to escape into your Dreamland where you didn't have to take a stupid maths class like this was some ordinary highschool or something. 

Your thoughts flew right to that scary but beefy blond dude you saw at SVT frat. He was clearly well built and you were sure that if the situation was different you would've drooled on him and maybe even asked him to touch his muscles. His hair also looked really soft and framed his face so perfectly, you were sure he was drowning in pussy. Ugh, that was so unfair. Why weren't you drowning in pussy? 

Your train of thoughts was rudely interrupted by the bell and then by Vernon who shook your shoulder so hard that you bumped your head against the desk again. At this rate you were going to get a concussion.

“Why aren't you taking notes?” he asked with that displeased look of his.

“Why are you all in my business Vernon?” you huffed, quickly shoving your things in your bag.

“I'm your friend, I don't want you to fail.” You pursed your lips at his words. He was just trying to be nice and you were sassy without a reason.

“Notes or not, I still don't get it, my brain is not wired like that.”

“I can ask Seungcheol to tutor you,” he exclaimed with a weirdly chirp smile on his face.

“Who?”

“Seungcheol, the head of my frat and the professor's TA. Choi Seungcheol.”

“Is that supposed to tell me something?”

“Did you ever pay attention?”

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The question was entirely too stupid and the answer was entirely too obvious for him. Vernon huffed.

“Don't worry about it I'll handle it. I have to go now, we got a new pledge yesterday,” he waved already half out the door.

“You're fourteen now? That house is a fucking nightmare.”

The same day you received a text from Vernon saying that it was all set and to meet him at his cursed frat house. You rolled around in bed debating whether to go or not, it would've messed with your napping schedule but maybe sacrificing a nap to pass a class wasn't the end of the world. Getting up took all of your strength and getting dressed took even more, by the time you were halfway to the house you were cranky, tired and sluggish.

Seungcheol had never been more awake on the other end. Tutoring? You? He could never pull that off. He’d had his eyes on you since the first day you stepped into the class, you were clearly not paying attention so he doubted you noticed him. Mathematics I, which was dreadful for him because he hated teaching, it required too much patience, started to become the happiest part of his week. He looked forward to see you daydream, the way you twirled your hair in your hand and rested your cheek on your hand was enticing and hypnotizing.

As Cheol saw you walk towards him, looking clearly tired and pouty, he heard angels sing, church bells ring and birds tweet. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and watch you sleep on his chest, he also wanted to bury his head between your thighs until he couldn't breathe anymore but that was a thought for another time.

“Good luck Coups,” smirked Vernon. He knew. He did it on purpose.

As your eyes laid on Seungcheol your steps faltered. Wasn't he the guy that was looking at you like he wanted you to combust? What was he doing here? Why did he look like he was waiting for you?

“Hi, I'm Seungcheol, you can call me Coups. I'm your tutor,” he kindly extended your hand to you. His grip was gentle and his hand was warm and steady.

“I'm Y/N, thank you for agreeing to tutor me.” 

Oh my god her hand is so soft, thought Cheol, he was sweating bricks.

“Shall we go in?”

[poetryandfluffycats]

Dances and Daydreams

A/N: this is turning into a bsd blog😭 this oneshot is a part of this kidnapper nikolai au ive got going on (Quiz time! being the first oneshot) but its not like you have to read them in order or anything

Pairing: Kidnapper!NIkolai Gogol x fem!reader

Content: Nikolai asks you to dance, and daydreams fill your mind

Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture

Words: 522

Oneshot under cut!

Another day, another torture session.

Not real torture, anyway. Not the kind you hear about on the news, the kind that makes you say "what's happened to the world?" and then move on with your day. No, Nikolais idea of torture was something else entirely, something I wasn't sure how to put into words

"May I have this dance?" He held out a gloved hand to me, the other tucked neatly behind his back. A cheeky grin was plastered on his face, his sharpened teeth geaming in the dim light of the basement. It was a look I saw regularly, one he gave often since we started this game of house.

Rules were simple: Play the role of the perfect girlfriend, as perfect you can be whilst stuck in this basement, and he won't kill you. It was a promise, sealed with a pinky swear and a sloppy kiss to my forehead.

"Of course, Kolya" I tired my best to smile, although it probably came out looking like a grimace. The nickname Nikolai made me call him felt sticky in the mouth, like when you eat too much cotton candy and it gets stuck to the roof of your mouth.

Cotton candy... that would be nice right now.

I placed my hand in his, allowing him to pull me off the bed and into his arms. The hand not holding mine traveled down my back, resting on my waist and gripping my gown tight. My own hand moved up to his shoulder, squeezing slightly. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it certainly wasn't comfortable, either.

We began moving, swaying side to side as Nikolai hummed a tune I didn't recognize. The rhythm was a slow one, something you'd hear at a high school prom, or a wedding. I tired to imagine us somewhere else, anywhere but this shitty basement. On the dancefloor at our wedding, him looking his best in a fancy tux, I imagined it being white, and me in a pretty dress, like the one I had been eying up at the boutique near my work. It would be a beautiful day, a little girls daydream.

My nightmare.

The fantasy shattered in my mind. The image of Nikolai in a ironed suit, hair neat and tied back, eyes not covered by layers upon layers of facepaint quickly turned into him now. His hair was a fizzy mess in his braid, his jester get-up torn and covered in who-knows what, his cakey makeup that still failed to hide the deep bags under his eyes. The wedding venue morphed into the basement, the bright lights transformed into the flickering of the single candle in the corner, my big, poofy dress was back to the lifeless gown I wore.

This wasn't a wedding, it wasn't a fairytale.

It might as well have been my funeral.

"Dove? Everything okay?" Nikolai suddenly stopped in his tracks, using a hand to tilt my chin up.

I had started crying, god I was stupid. Crying over a wedding that didn't happen, a man I would never love. Crying over a psychopath.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Let's keep dancing"

[rokhal]

ANGR Magical Girl AU: Wrong Universe

The Robbie I usually write wakes up in the Ghost Rider Magical Girl AU.

I figured that in Magical Girl AU, Robbie is likely to go to Lisa to ask for help walking in heels (assuming Johnny's tips are less than useful) and Lisa gets so excited at the prospect of Robbie participating in drag and he denies that's what he's doing but refuses to explain so in her desire to be supportive she ends up stalking him so she can cheer for him at his show and ends up finding out that he's a magical girl which somehow makes a lot more sense. She becomes a valuable member of the team because she has social skills. Of a sort.

If anything here contradicts any other ideas anyone else has in the works, MULTIVERSE BAYBEE it's noncanon :) The Sharpie thing is purely a case of Great Minds Think Alike though. I saw that in Moose's fic and was like, twins!

This is way too long 😭

As Robbie scrubbed the brake cleaner off his hands, the axle grease wiped away and so did the black Sharpie he’d hastily scribbled onto his fingernails that morning. His bright pink fingernails. If it was nail polish, the brake cleaner should be taking that off, too; he scrubbed hopefully at his thumbnail but this was as useless as the acetone he’d tried before resorting to Sharpie.

He’d woken up feeling more normal than he had in a long time. The pleasant sensation of a full night’s rest had faded as he’d gotten dressed and made Gabe breakfast. His bad eye was mysteriously back to normal and the scar on his forehead was completely gone, but his goatee was shaved off, he had some kind of jewel embedded in his chest, his fingernails were pink, and. And Gabe wasn’t his Gabe. It was Gabe’s face, and Gabe’s smile, but instead of cartoon and comic book heroes filling his shelves and plastered all over his door, it was sparkly anime girls and Japanese motorcycle riders; he was happier, stronger legs and steadier hands, and he didn’t second-guess Robbie’s every expression and movement or double-check his identity after every time Robbie left his sight. Robbie spent half an hour tossing the bathroom looking for his epilepsy meds before he checked the app on his phone where he tracked expenses and found that this Gabe had been off them for an entire year.

The apartment was mostly the same; same view across Hillrock Lane out the apartment window, same pile of automotive magazines on the coffee table—now with manga mixed in—same thrifted art on the walls. Robbie had wondered if he was still asleep, and dreaming, or better, if the last two years had been a long and vivid nightmare, until he noticed the time and realized that he’d missed Gabe’s bus and was about to be late to work. He’d stuffed a stale tortilla in his mouth and gnawed on it while grabbing a pair of coveralls and helping Gabe into the Charger to get to school. He’d dropped Gabe off and made it all the way to Canelo’s before he realized that he hadn’t heard from Eli all morning.

He stood now under a half-disassembled Chevy Tahoe, scrubbing desperately at his glossy pink fingernails as though with enough solvent and friction he could wipe himself from this world and return to his own body, his own curse, his own Hillrock Heights, his own brother. He simply had no better ideas.

“Reyes!” Canelo barked from across the shop, and he jumped, dropped the can of brake cleaner. “Quit daydreaming!”

Eli would have had a snide comment about how Canelo ought to mind his own fucking business or risk getting disemboweled. Robbie checked the time and added up the hours he was due by the end of the day, for future reference in case Canelo rounded his pay down when it was due next week. If he was still here next week. He couldn’t be stuck here until next week but he didn’t know to do anything but work. Did his other self know anybody here who dealt with interdimensional travel and too-pleasant dreams? He wasn’t a Ghost Rider here, Johnny Blaze wouldn’t have any reason to have met him…

...But he was a something.

What the hell was he now?

He was on the clock, that’s what. He had a job he knew how to do, to provide for a brother he loved, even though neither of them were his, and he would reinstall this truck’s axles and wheel bearings and not get his alternate self fired and then he would, somehow, figure out how to get home. (Dread filled him.) (He hadn’t fantasized about murdering anyone all morning.) (The world felt brighter, his senses more vivid, his flesh and skin snug over his bones, and he could believe for the first time in a long time that he might be safe for others to be around.)

“You alright, son?” Canelo asked from two feet behind him, and Robbie hit his head on the Tahoe’s subframe. It didn’t hurt as much as it probably should have. Canelo was just standing there, frowning a little. “Take five, I’ll get you some ice.”

What the hell, Robbie thought, and no one answered.

Canelo did, indeed, return from the break room with an ice pack. No one else at the shop seemed to think this was unusual. Marty winced at Robbie and patted his own head, mouthing, You okay? and even Ramon grunted sympathetically at him. Robbie retreated to the bathroom where he pressed the ice pack to the starting bruise and stared himself down in the mirror. Without his beard, he looked young and delicate—that’s why he’d grown it. But it wasn’t just the beard; his eyes were brighter, his skin was smoother, the scar through his eyebrow had faded—all the scars on his hands were gone, too, the bashed knuckles and burns and scrapes that were inevitable if you worked with cars all day. He looked tender and undamaged. He looked like someone worth protecting.

He had a terrible thought and whispered, “Talk to me. I’m not doing this on purpose but if I know you’re in here I think I can give you your body back.” He stared uncomfortably into his own eyes, but the back of his mind was silent.

He got out his phone—same PIN as usual—and checked his contacts list. Johnny Blaze was on there, but Johnny Blaze had almost killed him and Eli the first time they’d met; how would Johnny react to some strange, murderous version of Robbie wearing the skin of the Robbie he knew? He couldn’t beat Johnny in a fight in the real world. He didn’t know how to explain himself. There was nothing to do but finish the Tahoe.

The day rolled on, he returned the Tahoe to drivable condition and did a couple tune-ups and oil changes, and he snagged a moment to Sharpie his nails black again. He wasn’t afraid of nail polish—he had black nail polish at home somewhere, eyeliner too—but pink was not his style and was liable to attract the wrong kind of attention, especially with how...how he looked, in this world. (What was he? Was he something that could fight, defend itself? There was no fire waiting under his skin to consume his human weakness.)

He was puzzling over a set of trouble codes from a fifteen-year-old Nissan Maxima when his phone buzzed. If this version of himself worked on the same logic, he’d set it up to mute unknown numbers but programmed in all Gabe’s teachers and therapists. He dug into his pocket under his coveralls and checked it. It was Lisa, saved in his contacts list with a photo he didn’t remember taking: familiar bright hair and smile, raising two fingers in a V in front of one eye while her other hand displayed a river rock with a large hole worn through the center, dangling from a pink ribbon.

This was not a conversation he was ready to have. He ended the call. A minute later, she called again. Robbie walked to the time clock and punched out as he answered. “Uh, what’s up.”

Screeching and howling and buzzing in the background. “Omigod where are you?” Lisa demanded. She sounded out of breath.

“Work,” Robbie said, baffled. “What’s going on, are you okay?”

“What do you mean what’s—” Banging, panting. “Where’s Eli?”

A chill unfurled under his skin, his hand grew numb as he gripped his phone case. “What are you talking about.”

“Did you lock him in the freezer again?” Lisa demanded. What. “I know he’s annoying—”

“That’s one word for it,” Robbie muttered, swallowing bile.

“—but he’s an essential member of the team!”

“What team?”

Lisa paused. “The, the team,” she said hesitantly. “The Guardians of Hillrock Heights. Robbie, you. You know what you do helps people, right?”

He was disappointing her somehow—no, worse, letting her down. “Yeah, of course, I, uh.” Eli existed here, but this Lisa knew about him; obviously this version of Robbie had trusted her more. Or she’d just stalked him and figured it out. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get to the Cecil Hotel,” Lisa panted. “Bring Eli. And stay and talk to me after you transform back.”

Transform. Robbie rubbed the hard pink jewel embedded in his sternum. “Right. Okay.”

He left the time clock and approached Canelo’s office, racking his brain for some excuse—a lie about Gabe? A medical appointment? When he opened the door, Canelo met his eyes and sighed. “Again? Well, go on.” Robbie stared at him. He wasn’t even scowling. “What do you want, a hug? Go do your thing.”

He ran out of the shop and threw himself into the Charger. As he sped out of the parking lot, he almost clipped off one of its mirrors against the security gate. He grabbed his phone and started to search for the Cecil Hotel while making a left turn onto Atlantic Boulevard and almost crashed head-on into an F-250; he couldn’t drive and use his phone at the same time anymore. The phone dropped to the floorboards and he pulled hastily to the side of the road, cursing.

His connection to the Charger was different here, too. Still there, but weaker. Possibly just in his head. He tried to stretch out into it anyway, feeling its vibrations, listening to the loping chug of its idle and the continuous hiss of its supercharger, but his consciousness stayed firmly in his human body.

He heard something clank in the trunk.

Atlantic Boulevard was not a good place for a street fight. Robbie found his phone, pulled up a route to the Cecil, took a detour in an alley behind a warehouse. He hit the gas and slammed the brakes a couple times before shutting down the car and sprinting around the back to pop the trunk, confront this alternate version of his uncle, slam the trunk on his neck while he was still dazed, kill him like this alternate Robbie wasn’t yet sullied enough to do.

There was no washed-up mob henchman wriggling in the Charger’s trunk. Robbie found a couple bags of school supplies, a tool box, and a big first-aid kit, nothing sinister, and then in the shadows, oddly, something pink and shiny—one of this Gabe’s collectibles? A Beanie Baby?

“FUCK,” the pink thing bellowed, and then it unspooled and slipped up over the edge of the trunk, hit the ground with a slap, and slithered away, S-curves glittering in the sun as it struggled against the smooth pavement. Robbie gaped, then chased after it. Him. Eli was making slow progress and Robbie caught up quickly, but he turned on a dime; Robbie headed him off away from a nearby dumpster and danced around him for almost a minute before he had the idea to shrug off his jacket and throw it on Eli’s head. Eli backed out from under it but by this time Robbie had him by the neck. “Look. Revenge is, you don’t got the mindset for it? There’s healing in forgiveness. It makes you more stable. Less prone to violent, emotional outbursts. Kid. Kid! We had our differences, but it was the situation, the close quarters, you know? You’d do the same in my position, I just wanted to live, I had unfinished business! And now, heh, you got a body, I got a body, we can go our separate ways. Kid? Hey?”

Eli was a shimmery pink snake about half-again as long as Robbie’s arm. He had round shining eyes in a hundred shades of rose, and the large scale between them was shaped like a heart. His forked tongue sparkled as it scented the air. His voice was exactly the same.

“You, uh. Look different.”

Robbie had a sinking feeling that stomping the snake’s head under his boot wouldn’t be doing this world’s Robbie any favors. He dangled Eli in one fist at arm’s length—an essential member of the team. “You don’t know what’s going on, either.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not the cause of everything that goes wrong in your life.”

“Lisa wants us at the Cecil Hotel,” Robbie said, returning to the Charger and dumping Eli on the passenger seat. “She requested you by name. We’re gonna take care of whatever’s going on and figure it out from there.”

“The Cecil, huh? Good times.”

“Don’t tell me you killed people there.”

“I won’t.” Eli awkwardly pressed his long narrow body against the door, slowly lifting his head toward the window. Robbie took a hard left and Eli slipped sideways between the seat and the side pillar. “Fuck.”

“Apparently you’re important for some reason.”

“Can you not act like my existence is an imposition for two seconds.”

Robbie slammed his fist into the steering wheel. “You exist because you committed human sacrifice.” Eli slithered out of view behind the passenger seat. Robbie took a breath. “You’re a talking pink snake here. You probably have magic powers.”

“Pink?”

“You color-blind, too?”

Eli was silent for the rest of the drive. Robbie hoped he was figuring out what magic powers he had, otherwise they’d just have to wing it.

Hotel Cecil was a trio of brick buildings spanning half a city block and joined by skywalks. The complex had probably been impressive before the invention of reinforced concrete. No longer a failing hotel for people falling down the ladder of society, it was being converted to affordable housing for people crawling back up. Robbie parked across the street and squinted up at it. He was pretty sure the walls weren’t supposed to be covered in gray goo, but there was a ghost tour or something right there on the sidewalk and none of the tourists were taking pictures. Maybe it was a maintenance thing? An art installation?

“Huh,” Eli said, finally squirming his way up onto the dashboard to take a look.

Robbie texted Lisa: Here.

Her reply was immediate. Fourth floor front building room 73

No emojis. That couldn’t be good. “Any ideas on how to get inside?” Robbie asked.

“Put on your spare coveralls and act pissy.”

Robbie could have thought of that himself, but he had no better ideas. He stomped through the graffitoed doors of the unassuming entryway and through the unexpectedly grand marble halls of the lobby floor, scowling like he’d been called in on his day off to fix a plumbing catastrophe that could have been prevented by routine maintenance the previous week, and glancing up now and again at the pulsing tangle of veins the color of neglected differential fluid that wormed between the ceiling lights and which no one else seemed to notice. Eli wrapped himself around Robbie’s neck like a scarf; uncomfortably close, but better, at least logically, than having him ride along in his thoughts like usual.

“Art nouveau,” Eli commented, peering up an angular gold-and-green wall sconce beside a statue in an alcove whose opening was carved to look like palm leaves and Egyptian columns. “Classy place full of staff who don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Shut up,” Robbie hissed. They reached the pair of elevators that served this part of the complex: just two, and one was out of order. A big brass dial on the top indicated that the elevator was on the eighth floor, and going up. Robbie stabbed the button irritably, then gave up and ran for the stairs.

On the fourth floor, the gray veins were so thick that the ceiling looked a foot lower than it should have been, and the light sconces were mostly covered. Somehow, the light escaped anyway, leaving the carpet brightly lit and the air at shoulder-height and above dim like twilight. Robbie watched a tall man in a business suit strolling down the hall, his entire head vanishing into the pulsing fleshy mass. “Keep your head down, there’s gray magical crap on the ceiling,” Eli informed him.

Robbie felt a moment of glee that Eli couldn’t just look out through his eyes anymore. “I noticed.”

“Try touching it. Left hand.”

Robbie poked one of the ceiling tentacles with his left pinkie finger as he advanced down the hall toward room 73, and cringed as the rock in his chest seemed to shudder in protest. The gray flesh was clammy and yielding, leaving his finger numb as he pulled away. Even if it was invisible, how did anyone walk around with their whole head swimming in this stuff without noticing? What was it doing to the people it enveloped?

He passed room fifty, and noticed that the higher the numbers progressed, the thicker the veins overhead pulsed and the lower they sagged, growing to fill more of the narrow space even as he watched. He crouched low and broke into a run. Room 73 was nearly overtaken; limbs as thick as ventilation ducts sprouted through the walls, heaving and pulsing and moaning, ozone and rot thick in the air. He had to kneel beside the door as he knocked. “Lisa! It’s Robbie. I’m outside.”

“Get in here!” Lisa yelled from within.

“They ain’t changed this lock since ‘98. You can shim it with a credit card.”

Robbie bypassed the latch and shoved the door inward against the mass of shifting tendrils packed against the ceiling. There was barely room to crouch inside; the rust-red carpet shone in the light of fixtures completely swallowed by the strange rot overtaking the hotel. He ducked as a gray coil twisted past his face.“Can you get to the door?”

“Kinda busy!” Lisa grunted. Someone else screamed, inhumanly long and somehow muted, the volume too soft for the cracks of agony in the voice. Robbie leaned down and spotted what looked like a clear space around the hotel bed. He army-crawled toward it. There was something wet and sticky on the floor—not blood, it smelled like solvent. White spray-paint, circling the bed. He dragged himself over the painted lines and got his first look at what Lisa was busy with.

There was a body on top of the blankets, a middle-aged white woman with hollow cheeks and loose skin rising in narrow folds where gray tendrils sank into her from above. Lisa had a broken bottle in one hand and was sawing at the thickest of the tendrils just above where it sank between the motionless woman’s eyes. With another, she held a flat rock with a hole in the center, scowling through it like a lens. From the nest of gray veins on the ceiling, a human figure sagged down, joined to the woman joint by joint with those tendrils. Its mouth was a formless hole, its eyes cold wet pits, its flesh the same sludgy substance as the rest of the hotel’s infestation. Robbie swallowed. “Is she alive?”

“For now,” Lisa said, scraping furiously at the tendril. Robbie noticed with horror that two other tendrils had descended from the ceiling to sink into Lisa’s shoulders; he lunged forward and ripped them away. The rock in his chest shuddered as his hand went numb. “Was it on me?” She turned around and looked at him for the first time. “Omigod, why aren’t you changed?”

Robbie took a deep breath and stared up at the vacant eyes of the abomination on the ceiling. He pulled out the blade on his multitool and joined in cutting the woman free; the gray stuff yielded like flesh to expose a tough stringy black core. “We can wrap her in the blanket and drag her out.” The human shape began to drag one of its hands down toward them, struggling against an unseen force.

Lisa grabbed his wrist. “Robbie, she needs an exorcism. You have to change.” He stared at the river rock that dangled from a long pink ribbon on her neck as she tried to meet his eyes. “She’s got kids who miss her, she’s turning her life around, you gotta help! Come on!”

“I don’t remember what you’re talking about,” Robbie blurted.

“Omigod are you cursed or something?”

The horror on the ceiling reached closer, closer, as black claws unsheathed from half-molded fingers. Then it drew back and tension shuddered through its body; the woman on the bed shuddered in synchrony. Its eyes fixed on the back of Lisa’s neck. It lunged, but Robbie was faster, slicing its wet palm with his knife as he pushed Lisa aside. As it swiped back to retaliate, he instinctively leaned into its path—baiting it with the Rider’s leather skin filled with the Charger’s fire ready to erupt the moment those claws released it to burn his enemy—and screamed as the talons sank into his human shoulder. He could barely feel the wounds through the hollow ache the creature’s touch carried, but the worst pain was the furious hum from the stone in his sternum, rocking and jerking like an engine that had snapped its mounts; he thought his chest would crack open from the force. His hand went limp and the knife dropped and stabbed blade-first into the bed. He punched ineffectually with his good hand as the creature lifted him. New tendrils sprouted from its body, seeking to plug into his own. He was as frightened and angry and frustrated as he’d ever been in his life, and though he was suppressing none of it since this Lisa was already enmeshed in his supernatural bullshit, the transformation wasn’t happening.

Eli slithered down his coveralls and escaped out his pant leg as he struggled. Lisa stared in horror through her river rock. “Eli! Help him!”

“Eh, sure,” Eli said, watching Robbie from the bedcovers while Robbie’s leg went cold and dead. “Rake its eyes! Behind your left shoulder!” Robbie flailed blindly with his working arm, hoping Eli hadn’t gotten his left and right confused.

Lisa stood up and grabbed Robbie by the waist, trying to pull him down. Blood from his shoulder soaked her hair. “What’s wrong with you two? Say the words!”

“What words?”

Lisa groped his chest until her palm pressed against his pink troll-doll gem. “Oh, thank God. Say it: Tie cloth nee, ya toys or chalk!”

“What?!”

“Say it! Tie cloth—”

“Ty glavny, ya tvoy suchok,” Eli interrupted. “Five words, you can do it.”

“Die glovny, a twoy sujock,” Robbie gritted out just before the ceiling monster’s limbs closed around his throat. For an instant, all he knew was aching cold and darkness. Then the stone in his chest sparked and a shockwave erupted through his body, driving away the clammy gray tentacles in a blast of warm pink light. It doesn’t hurt, he thought, shocked. Changing into the Rider in his own world was a cathartic blast of agony as his body cremated itself from within, but this, this was nice. He was weightless in a void of dancing blue-green lights. The pain of talons crushing his shoulder was gone, and so were the low-grade headache he always got about halfway through the work day and the tension in his spine and the knot on his head from banging it into the Tahoe that morning; he tingled all over with the contentment of an hour-long hot shower where he wouldn’t have to pay the heating bill. He stretched out, luxuriating in the feeling, and realized with horror that his body wasn’t there.

I’m hallucinating, he told himself. It was hard to think through the nice bubbly feeling, but he remembered that Lisa was right there trying to stop him from getting eaten, and there was a woman on the bed below who was dying, and he couldn’t see or feel anything but the bright pink gem illuminating the hollow space where his body was supposed to be. He thrashed, but it was like trying to fight the wind with a puff of smoke. He was nothing but thought, and he couldn’t even panic properly.

Solidity returned in jolts and starts: cool fabric twisting around his body and snugging him into shape. Protective gloves, leather boots long enough to save his knees from road rash, body armor, something to guard his forehead. The familiar handles of a pair of body hammers filled his palms, and the world snapped back into place. No time at all seemed to have passed; he was still suspended above the bed by the ceiling monster.

He was not the Rider, but he knew what the Rider would do. He jammed one hand into the mouth of the humanoid sludge stalactite and stabbed the spike of a body hammer through its skull. It moaned, and he stabbed again, flipped himself around, gripped its leg between his knees to anchor himself, and struck for the heart, the throat, all the vital targets that he’d trained himself to avoid whenever he gave in to the urge to beat down local thugs in Hillrock Heights. Black blood spattered into his eyes and trickled up his nose, reeking of mold. Its touch no longer chilled him; his touch seemed to burn it. He beat the creature until it melted away and retreated back into the ceiling, all the veins and coils and tree-root limbs draining away after it. Robbie landed hard on the edge of the bed, bounced, and rolled to his feet. His feet—

“Point your toes!” Lisa yelled, too late. He tripped over his own ankles and crashed face-first into the bedside table.

Whenever the Rider ate shit like this, he’d sink through his own shadow and reappear in the car like he’d meant to do it—not that he was embarrassed, just that he preferred not to take the time to pick himself up. Robbie pried himself up off the floor when he realized that his powers in this world did not include the ability to dissolve into the room’s nicotine-stained carpet. He was wet, disappointingly fleshy, and entirely alone in his head. His protective gloves were doing a poor job, already soaked through with disgustingly organic black slime, and his feet—

He looked down at himself for the first time. He wasn’t wearing protective gloves or work boots or body armor. He had the kind of delicate white cotton gloves that women wore with ballgowns in old movies, and thigh-high go-go boots over tights, and what looked like a women’s ice-dancing costume. The ankles of the high-heeled boots were decorated with pink rhinestones, and so were his white-painted hammers. The worst part was that under the pink satin bow where the gem from his chest had migrated, the black leotard bore the same staple-shaped white stripe as his favorite jacket. This was his ice-dancing costume.

He tried to get his feet under him to stand, but the heels were in the way. Whatever force had undressed him seemed to have a grudge against the stock geometry of the human foot; the boots were so stiff he could barely bend his ankles. When he yanked at them, they didn’t budge. He couldn’t find any fasteners. He was about to grab one of his spiked hammers and try ripping through the leather when he noticed Lisa looking down at him from the bed, holding Eli twined around her forearms like a pet corn snake.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Robbie snarled, lunging on his knees.

Lisa jerked back, carrying Eli with her. “Okay, what is your deal today? I thought you had amnesia, but the way you bashed up that genius loci—are you, like, possessed by your alternate universe evil twin with a goatee?”

“Basically,” Robbie said, retrieving one hammer from under the bed. “Put him down.”

“Hey, looks like we’re friends in this universe, too.” Eli rested his head in the crook of Lisa’s elbow and flicked his tongue at Robbie.

“Rrrrrrrr,” Robbie growled. It sounded ridiculous without the rumble of the Charger’s engine filtering through his throat. He could tackle Lisa and rip Eli away from her, bash his head into the wall—but she’d never trust him after that. “He’s not safe, he used to be a—”

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eli interrupted, and Robbie wavered.

Lisa passed him the box of tissues from the bedside table. “Wipe your face and exorcise Mrs. Sanchez so we can get her out of here.”

Robbie hated that this “change” had left him with a human face to wipe. He struggled to his feet, gripping the mattress for balance. The woman on the bed hadn’t moved; she stared vacantly at the ceiling, black veins spreading from the points on her body where the ceiling-monster’s roots had anchored. She was breathing, at least. Her lips were an unhealthy gray-purple. “Any idea how I do that?” he asked, glaring at Eli.

“Search me, I dunno what trigger words alternate-me picked.”

“You make a cross with your hammers,” Lisa said, demonstrating with her empty fists, “and say something like, eej an owie, sucker?”

“Idi na hui, suka,” Eli corrected her.

Robbie had a bad feeling that all his powers were activated by Russian vulgarities. He took careful crouching steps as he retrieved his other hammer, keeping one hand on the bed or on the wall as much as possible, then crossed his hammers like a priest in a vampire movie and did his best to parrot Eli’s words. There was a rush of wind that set his hair fluttering along with the skirt and pink bows of his leotard, and a fountain of pink sparks erupted from the hammers, right at the comatose woman’s bare face and the flammable-looking bedclothes. He had to separate the hammers, to turn off the power or at least point it in a safer direction, but his body wouldn’t obey him: his spine straightened and his shoulders drew back and his legs stepped wide into a power-stance despite the boots pinning his feet at an unnatural angle; he was spraying hot sparks at a defenseless innocent person and he was posing like he was proud of himself.

The seizure ended and he dropped the hammers and stumbled to the edge of the bed, ready to smother fires with his thin cotton gloves, brush off any burning embers from the woman’s hair. Lisa caught him by the shoulder. “Hey! Hey, look, you did it,” she said, examining the woman through her river rock.

There were no fires or burns. The infected gray-black marks were retreating up from her skin and trickling away into inert slime. “What did I do,” Robbie panted.

“You saved the day!” Lisa said brightly. She lifted her rock to check the ceiling; fresh veins had begun to ripple over the paint in a human outline that mirrored Mrs. Sanchez. “You saved...two thirds of the day. Eli, so your thing.”

Robbie hated that he knew Eli well enough to read from the tension in his sigmoid posture that he was taken aback. “My thing.”

“Bite her!” Lisa said impatiently, watching the ceiling.

“What?”

“His bites heal people.”

“Puta madre.” Eli stared at the woman in...probably disgust. “This is…” He cut himself off, looking up at Lisa. “Just what I’ve always wanted.”

“You are so full of shit,” Robbie hissed. Lisa glared at him, and Robbie glared back. “He is!”

“We don’t have time for this,” Lisa said to Eli, making a strange gripping gesture beside his head. “Hurry up or I’ll do it for you. Manually.”

Eli grudgingly fit his mouth around Mrs. Sanchez’ wrist and wriggled his lips and teeth around with disturbingly more mobility than Robbie had expected a snake to be capable of. Robbie clenched his fists as translucent pink fangs flicked into view before sinking into her wasted skin. Eli’s body glowed, and pink sparks shimmered along her veins, circled over her heart, and flashed twice before vanishing. Mrs. Sanchez opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, staring at Robbie.

“Uh,” Robbie said.

“Oh thank God you’re okay!” Lisa squealed, throwing herself between them and gripping Mrs. Sanchez by the torso. “Ma’am, you just survived a carbon monoxide leak, it’s absolutely imperative that we get you to fresh air, you may still be experiencing visual disturbances, first responders have been called, come on, let’s get you out, don’t worry about your belongings, let’s go. Go. Go.” She half-led, half-wrestled the confused woman out the door. Robbie took two steps after them before his ankles did a death-wobble and dumped him to his knees. “We’ll figure out your amnesia-whatever when I get back,” Lisa assured him. “If the hotel wakes up again…” She mimed bashing something with a hammer. “You got this!”

“I got this,” Robbie whispered to himself, stumbling to the nearest wall for balance.

“He can’t even walk!”

[roguelov]

AU where Morpheus wasn’t in the fishbowl and was able to experience the punk/rock/early 2000s edgy eras.

Death pulls him out of The Dreaming to experience humanity again since the times are changing and he needs to not be cooped up in his room like a moody teenager. They go to festivals where humans are more comfortable, everyone is dressed similarly and more expressive. Their truer selves in a sense.

Morpheus rolls his eyes at the humongous groups of people, the loud screaming of lyrics, he’s still not fond of interacting with humans and finds this whole trip a waste of time.

Suddenly the show starts and Reader is the opening act on stage playing to their hearts content. They’ve got the whole crowds’ attention in the palm of their hand. The songs’ lyrics are deep, catchy and has everyone else screaming/singing along.

Morpheus can practically feel everyone daydreaming about living better lives, getting that job, speaking up to their parents, etc. and is stunned at how much was brought out from all these humans just from one of Reader’s songs.

They end their song with a bang where confetti bursts from the edges of the stage and the crowd is loving their slow exit off to the side as they wave and blow kisses. Morpheus’ eyes follow them the whole way and the feeling he’s receiving from all the daydreamers slowly dissipates.

The main acts make their way on stage after a few minutes and the rest of the show continues without Reader being seen again. Morpheus being slightly sad he can’t hear another song. The sensation is the same from the other singers but not as strong as earlier with everyone daydreaming when Reader was at center stage.

He and Death stayed for the whole event and she asks what his thoughts are from the experience.

“What of the first singer? They were only onstage once compared to the others.”

“Why don’t we go see them then?” Death smiles knowingly and leads them both to the backstage area.

Reader is in their own section getting cleaned up and making sure they have everything. When they spot Death they run up to her with a big smile and hug her.

“I’m glad you could make it! What did you think?” They ask, still vibrating with adrenaline from the festival.

They converse with Death for a while as Morpheus stands off to the side, silently observing this person who evokes such strong dreams from people with their voice and music. A portion of himself in The Dreaming is doing research about this human who has caught his eye.

Just who are they? What drives them to make songs? What’s their inspiration? Are they single?

“And who’s you’re friend?” He suddenly hears.

Morpheus is pulled back to The Waking and sees Reader is giving him their full attention. He’s tongue-tied. Words of introduction lodged in his throat with no way to escape. The brief look into Reader’s dreams leaving him breathless and hungry to know more.

Death quirks an eyebrow at this sudden silence but hides a smirk and tells Reader a little about her brother. Eventually finding his voice, Morpheus joins the conversation just as Death excuses herself to return to her duty.

Cue friends to lovers with the King of Dreams and Nightmares being the number one fan of Reader. He always watches them when they have a show and is the first to hear a finished song and asked for any critiques. They both are fashion icons, mostly with Reader helping find an outfit for Morpheus.

This idea popped into my head and just kept going anyways I hope you liked it as much as I do 🤗

DUDE I DONT LIKE THE IDEA I FUCKING LOVE IT

Dream adored when you visited.

He especially loved the music which always followed you. It may be a hum on your lips or an actual melody - a half completed song - trailing behind you on the wind.

You were his lovely muse, his songbird.

Currently, you were in the Dreaming. You were in a music room - one Dream specifically created for you - filled with instruments found all over the Waking and the best recording studio ever imaginable.

Sitting on a couch, a laptop rested in your lap with headphones dangling around your neck. You were almost feverishly working on your newest song, one that had been stuck in your head all day. It was going along okay, it could be better. You hit a bump in the process and you wanted a fresh pair of ears.

“Dream? Could you have a listen to this?” You asked, handing over the headphones.

Dream, directly beside you with a book in hand, set the book in his lap and nodded. “I would love to.”

He put on the headphones and you anxiously pressed play. Dream was taken away, taken on a journey with your music and how you weaved your lyrics.

You truly were gifted.

Once it finished, he handed over the headphones. “So?” You nervously asked.

“I loved it.”

You groaned, “But you always say that. What does it need? Something feels missing. The chorus is catching yet it seems to … I don’t know, basic? It feels like I need better wording.”

Dream smiled softly. “I’m sure everyone will love it.” I know I do, he thought.

“But -“

“How about you take a break?” He suggested. “You had been at it all night since you first came. Relax and I’m sure time away will provide new perspective.”

You grumbled, glancing back at your screen. “How about just one more hour? I’m right there, I know it. Maybe it’s the second verse, to be honest I wasn’t completely sold on it. Or maybe it’s the melody altogether -“

He closed your laptop.

You gasped, and playfully glared at him. “Dream -“

“Time away is what is best, songbird.” He stood up, extending his hand towards you. “You will figure it out, I know you will. But, you must give yourself a break.”

You sighed. You placed the laptop and headphones down. Your hand slid into his. He easily helped you up. “Okay, okay, Sandman, I’ll relax.”

He smiled softly. “That’s all I ask.”

[briarvalleyarchives]

ᴏᴄᴛᴀᴠɪɴᴇʟʟᴇ

╰┈➤ ❝ to mankind, the deep below; the waters carrying the legacy of the sea witch, perhaps are as foreign as the castles of the noble fae atop the mountains. what lurks in the cold waters of the coral sea is sure to be unfamiliar but equally as enchanting. ❞

[f.], [m.] → female / male reader respectively | [pl.] → platonic | [g.] → general / no reader | [sug.] → suggestive | [hc] → headcanons | [os] → oneshot | [sh.] → short scenario | [s.] → part of a series | [a.] → angst

bright blue as a sunlit sea [f. | pl. | os]

he's a nightmare dressed like a daydream [f. | pl. | os]

i will love you (like the ocean loves the shoreline) [f. | pl. | os]

what they do during winter break [g. | os]

ᴀᴢᴜʟ ᴀꜱʜᴇɴɢʀᴏᴛᴛᴏ

"is somebody jealous?" [os]

a gentle sunrise (to guide you back home) [f. | os]

aubade [os]

azul + different nrc subjects [g. | hc]

boyfriend headcanons [hc]

brushing his hair [pl. | hc]

careful love [os]

celebrating christmas [hc]

comforting him after a nightmare [f. | hc]

cuddle time [hc]

cuddling headcanons [hc]

distorted memories (dystopian au) [g. | a. | hc]

draw me in [os]

easily flustered s/o [hc]

emoji ask meme [hc]

felicity [os]

flirting with him [hc]

fluff alphabet: o [hc]

hanahaki au [hc]

jealousy (ft. tsum!azul) [os]

kissing his s/o [hc]

love languages [hc]

love looks beautiful on you [f. | os]

meeting his family [hc]

moonstruck [os]

mornings with him [hc]

my eyes are up here [hc]

on land where we can see the moon [os]

opening up to s/o [hc]

radiohead [a. | sh.]

reacting to stoic mc who carries a stuffed animal around [hc]

reminiscing on a warm summer day [os]

rivals to lovers au [hc]

secret night rendezvous [f. | pl. | os]

s/o having a nightmare about his overblot [hc]

soulmate au [os]

study date [hc]

trivia headcanons [g. | hc]

tutoring session [os]

wanting a second chance [hc]

when his s/o tells him he's their favorite [hc]

with a childhood friend who moved away [hc]

with a drunk s/o [hc]

with an s/o who has ptsd [hc]

with an s/o who has social anxiety [hc]

with an s/o who's obsessed with the ocean [os]

with an s/o who is the grandchild of the king of the coral sea [hc]

with an s/o that blends perfectly into any shadow [hc]

with a reader who thinks they're not good enough to date him [hc]

with vampire!mc [hc]

ᴊᴀᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

"is somebody jealous?" [os]

"why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?" [a. | os]

3 halloween tales [a. | hc]

a heart to love, a hand to hold [f. | os]

dancing with him [hc]

fluff alphabet: djn [hc]

getting bored of s/o [a. | hc] [sequel]

hanahaki au [hc]

if he said something insensitive to his s/o [a. | hc]

i love the light (that i've found in you) [pl. | os]

love languages [hc]

my eyes are up here [hc]

radiohead [a. | sh.]

reacting to a sudden ambush [hc]

secret night rendezvous [f. | pl. | os]

s/o coughs up blood [hc]

s/o suddenly being transported back to their world [sh.]

spending valentine's day with him [hc]

tackling overworked s/o [hc]

the girl they love, the boys she adore + platonic!floyd [f. | os]

wanting a second chance [hc]

warmth in your love, solace in your presence [f. | os]

what a dream, to see you love me [os]

with a drunk s/o [hc]

with a reader who thinks they're not good enough to date him [hc]

with vampire!mc [hc]

you are the brightest light of sunshine [f. | os]

your heart is a terrarium filled with love [f. | os]

ꜰʟᴏʏᴅ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

"is somebody jealous?" [os]

amusement park date [hc]

calling him cute [hc]

cheering you up when you're not feeling well [hc]

cuddle time [hc]

doodles of us [hc]

hanahaki au [hc]

having a big crush on mc [hc]

having a crush [hc]

heart squeezing (in a lovey way) [f. | os]

getting bored of s/o [a. | hc] [sequel]

if he said something insensitive to his s/o [a. | hc]

my eyes are up here [hc]

wanting a second chance [hc]

with an s/o that blends perfectly into any shadow [hc]

with vampire!mc [hc]

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Ⅸ Ice nine kills master list

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

Just like Animals series

»»———-►»»———-►

Fastest way to a girls heart is through her rib cage. -this is a prequel to just like Animals

Just like Animals- spencer Charnas gn reader smut

Just like Animals part 2 - even more smut

Cant help falling in love with you (J.L.A.- part 3) - fluff snuggles with Spencer

Just like Animals part 4

The Addams Charnas family series

»»———-►»»———-►

The Addams Charnas family- having children with Spencer

The Addams Charnas family 1.5 - your son finds Spencers music video ware he "kills" you

The Addams Charnas family 2 - watching Jason and Damien grow up

The Addams Charnas family values- Jason and Damien find out they are getting a younger sister

The Addams Charnas family values 2 - Spencer takes the kids on a hike

The Addams Charnas family: scary movies - watching a scary movie with the kids and Spencer

Meat and Greet series

»»———-►»»———-►

Part 1

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Part 2: I'd fuck me - smut

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Part 3: I'd fuck you - Smut

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Part 4 (request) - smut

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Part 5

One shots

»»———-►»»———-►

A match made in hell - Spencer dose a interview with Dead Meat

Computation - Andy Biersack and Spencer Charnas x reader

A wedding to die for - you and Spencer get married

A shoulder to lean on - Spencer comforts reader after finding out about their friend passing

Thank God it's Friday - strange things happen at camp

Friday the 13th celebration - you and Spencer do some fun activities to celebrate this creep-tacular day

Couples Halloween costumes - exactly what it says

Happy birthday Mr. Charnas - birthday smut w/ Spencer

Hate fuck - exactly what It sounds like smut

Fake Instagram posts

»»———-►»»———-►

Fake Instagram posts of Spencer

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Spencer funny pictures

»»———-►»»———-►

Part 1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

Ficmas 2023

Day 4 bondage - tying Spencer up (SMUT)

Bonus Christmas horror movies - (smut)

Requests

»»———-►»»———-►

Spencer x horror actress reader

Head cannons

Being in a INK video

Your numbers up - Ghost face au

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Nightmare dressed like a daydream - prt 2

INK Killjoys au

Jail bird -reader get arrested and Spencer has get them

Me, you and your best friend - threesome w Andy Black (smut)

Anything for you - reader gets kidnapped and Spencer comes to the rescue

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

I know you've said before that Orion thinks he's a nightmare dressed like a daydream but he's not. I would like to add that I 100% believe that would be his Instagram bio.

LMAOO YES

Also if this is FLF modern au or something. Then instead of Rosalind searching newspapers for the article that was in the rooster figurine she internet stalks him and finds his instagram and is just like. Oh my fucking god. Where the fuck did they even find him???

[idlerin]

nonsense — 16. a nightmare dressed like a daydream

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun fact !

not really a “fun” fact but [name]’s parents have always pressured her into taking a path that would be beneficial to the family since she’s the oldest.

the fact that [name] is still willing to pursue the same industry as the one who caused her pain means she doesn’t let others hold her back from what she wants to do anymore.

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — i rlly hope my way of storytelling isnt confusing!! and im now done w the slowburn lolol

taglist is open ! + @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @rintarousprincess @yyuiz @epeec28 @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis

[dab1-ex]

Chapter 9

The Samurai

Paring :Choso x reader (Naoya x reader)

Synopsis: You’re in an arranged marriage with Naoya he may not seem like the prince charming but maybe a your knight may come saving you, his the Samurai Choso from the Kamo clan. Will he save you from this disaster you call a marriage or will Naoya change for the better or come to his demise as the worst.

Genre: Historical AU, drama

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, ( we about to get to bottom about whose the baby daddy)

Taglist:@brownskinnedgirll @sweetshawty @eleventhdoctorsangel

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist🌸💕

1 , 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12

___________________________________________

'(Y/N) is pregnant',

The words echoed throught Choso's mind he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe.

He hoped this was a sick joke, a nightmare that he would wake up from, but it wasn't the visible small that was beginning to form was evident.

"Congratulations" was all Choso could muster.

He turned around as swiftly as he had entered and left, as the tears began forming in his lashline.

__________________________________________

You hadn't known you were pregnant.

You swore that you feeling ill in the morning was because of the chia seeds in your breakfast, something new which you had just began eating.

And you being bloated was because of all the milk and honey you had been craving lately.

You were positive you weren't pregnant.

You couldn't be.

But then, one morning while Fujiko was dressing you in your kimono she looked you up and down strangely.

"What is it" you asked as her change in expression was evident.

"Lady (Y/N), have you received your monthly blood?" Fujiko questioned as she starred at your lower abdomen.

"I have not been keeping count since the last one, but I'm sure it shall arrive soon"

Fujiko didn't seem to take these words as enough evidence to crush her hypothesis.

"Lady (Y/N), do you perhaps have any foods you've become fond of recently?"

"Well, I have been enjoying these sunflower seeds that Naoya brings in the evenings" you said thinking about the delectable seeds and how you would break the seed shell to eat the delicious seedling.

"I actually would like some now. Perhaps there is some in the kitchen pantry" you said to Fujiko as you continued to daydream about the seed.

"One last question my lady"

You looked towards her singalling her to ask her question.

"Have you experienced any nauseas, especially in the mornings?"

Without thinking to much about the question you agreed.

"Yes, I have"

Without a moment waste Fujiko moved her hands from the sash of your kimono to your exposed lower abdomen.

You looked at her in bewilderment, you didn't know what had caused this strange behavior, in the usual calm Fujiko.

"Fujiko what are you doin-"

"You're pregnant" she said without any hesitation.

You stood there quietly for a moment, as you slowly tried to process Fujiko's words. You kept repeating it in your mind 'You're pregnant ' until you finally realized what she said.

"It can't be" you said hoping that by some miracle your words would be true.

"It is Lady (Y/N). The last time you bled was ten weeks ago, you're six weeks late, you show symptoms of morning sickness and have cravings. To make it more obvious you have already developed a swelling"

You stood there in shock. You were pregnant. You were carrying Naoya's child, you couldn't believe it; you didn't want to believe it.

"I shall inform Naoya-sama, as soon as possible my Lady" Fujiko said as she did her best to quickly tie your kimono.

"No, it's alright. I shall tell him this evening" you said as your eyes became distant and the tears started falling from your eyes.

You didn't leave your quarters that day, and you had stayed inside that evening. You didn't wish to see anyone. You were relieved that you fell pregnant before the second season but you were pregnant with Naoya's child, the man who couldn't keep a stupid promise.

The evening came to soon and you sat at the chubdai silently eating across from Naoya.

"Husband I wish to tell you something?"

He slowly looked up from his meal.

"Speak as your heart desires my wife" he said as he looked back down to his food, as he began picking up a dumpling.

"I'm pregnant Naoya"

Naoya dropped his chopsticks, as his gazed went back to you and then down to the little bump you were coddling.

"When did you find out?"

"This morning" you said looking down.

Naoya didn't even realize you were pregnant, but the more he thought about it the more clearer the signs became, you constant complaints of looking round, the way you'd search for his sunflower seeds, you rushing to the bathroom when the sun arisen and especially you new desire to be bedded multiple times in one night.

It was as clear as day and yet he missed it  but he didn't care now. He was to happy about the fact that you were pregnant and with his heir.

That's when his cold demeanor shattered; he didn't care anymore if you'd love him less because he wasn't being distant anymore or that him seeming to not be interested in you would get him more of your attention.

He wanted to hold you and kiss you, and that's exactly what he did. Without a minute to spare he forgot about his dinner and quickly stood up approaching you and gently carrying you to your bedroom.

He could see your expression of shock as if he'd gone mad, but he didn't care.

He laid you gently on the bed as if you were a Lilly being placed in water.

He carefully laid beside you, taking you hand in his own and placing it upon your growing child.

"Thank you for bestowing my second greatest blessing upon me"

His words confused you, it was not even a day ago that he didn't care about you and now he was holding you like his life depended on it, was this all because you were pregnant. It probably was, his words swam in your head, this was the second greatest blessing you bestowed upon him.

"Naoya-Sama, what was the first blessing I bestowed upon you?" You asked with much hesitation in your voice.

"You married me"

It felt as if all time had stopped was he actually glad about being married to you, after he made you feel like nothing but an irritation and burden to him.

__________________________________________

That evening Naoya held you close and whispered into your ears about a life, where you'd be by his side till old age and you'd watch your children run around in the courtyard and feed the khoi fish he knew you were fond of.

To you it was a sweet moment that you hoped would be true, but your heart longed for another, a man who was once deemed an honorable Samurai who had the exterior of an emotionless soldier but on the inside was a soft hearted man who found joy in your curiosity of the world and love from you.

__________________________________________

But now you wish it was the prior evening, as Choso stood infront of you as your sick form was being held close to a Naoya. To weak to even stand by yourself let alone push him away.

When Naoya told him you were with child you saw Choso's heart shatter; it wasn't as clear to those who didn't know him as his facial features didn't show his sadness but you could tell by his eyes. They way they dropped to Naoya holding your small bump and back up to you, as his eyes glazed over. That was enough of a sign to you that you'd broken the man's heart.

__________________________________________

The first three months of your pregnancy was filled with you getting morning sickness and odd cravings.

By the fourth month you were glowing. Every kimono looked beautiful on you and every jewel was unmatched of your beauty.

Naoya had been stuck to your side since you had told him of his child. Every council meeting he missed, every task he was given ignored; his father of course overlooked it all as he was happy for his son.

Naobito remembered when he found out that Naoya was growing in his mother, how happy he was, how he'd refuse to do anything and everything that didn't require him to be by his wife's side. Naobito wouldn't say it was because he cared more for his wife rather for the little child growing within.

Naoya liked to think he was different to his father in that sense; Naoya did love you. He was sure of that. He enjoyed being in your company as he watched your child grow within you. He had to admit that being softer and kinder to you brought him more love and affection than his previous strategy to obtain them. Naoya was in pure bliss.

You were content for the time being, you were happy to be receiving such affections from your husband, you had to admit he wasn't that horrible. He was loathsome, irritational, demeaning, somewhat cruel but he was not horrible. Your heart new the truth though, it longed to be with the Samurai. To feel the firm grip of Choso's hand that wielded a katana, the softness of his hair as it tickled your face and the ever bright lights that would be seen shining through his eyes, you craved to have him here to have these moments that were suppose to be pure joy spent with him rather than Naoya.

Choso, however was experiencing the worst four months of his life. You'd tried to see him multiple times to talk to him but he would just ignore you, saying he was asked to do some other duty. Choso felt as if he'd given up everything for nothing. He loved you and now you were pregnant with another man's child. He began to think that this prophecy might have just been a children's story his mother said to him to help him fall asleep.

__________________________________________

It was a cool evening as your fifth month was slowly approaching, the growing dome of your child now present.

You hadn't spoken a full sentence to Choso since that morning he came in to find you with growing life inside.

You hoped that you would be able to speak to him alone, but alas Naoya was always by your side, from stone cold hard to doting father-to-be. At first having Naoya around you all the time was a new feeling and you slowly grew to enjoy it but now by you were extremely overwhelmed by having him around you all day and night seldom leaving your side.

The few times you were alone was when you you'd walk to the dining hall while Naoya attended personal talks with his father that would last no longer than five minutes. During this time you would sometimes see Choso and you would hurriedly walk over to him to try talk to him only for him to excuse himself as he had other duties to attend to. You began to realize that he was actively avoiding you and understood why he would.

But on this cool evening you had decide that enough was enough and you had to speak to him before the sun risen.

You placed your a silk scarf around your shoulder to keep you warm in your thin evening yukata.

You had already informed Naoya earlier that day that you would go for an evening walk to clear your mind for the events that would take place tomorrow, as you would meet with the monk from the zenin temple to discuss the future of your child.

You began walking to the courtyard. You hoped and prayed Choso would be standing there by the pond as he once did awaiting your nightly love making.

You carefully walked passed the hedges trying your best to stay as silent as possible.

"You know Lady (Y/N) from the first day I met you, your skills of silence have not improved much" Choso stated matter of factly.

"Noted" you said with a smile as you walked the rest of the distance to where he stood.

Choso kept his gaze fixed at the moon, as your gaze was fixed on him.

The silence from when you last spoke began to get longer and longer, the tension in the air you could no longer stand and you attempted to break it the same way he did back at the Kamo Estate.

"The fish look fat here, perhaps they are being over fed" you said pointing towards an orange khoi that had stuck its head out for a mere second.

Choso broke his gaze from the evening sky and look down towards what you spoke of.

"Perhaps" is all he said.

"So how have your duties been?" You said before another silence would befall upon you.

"Its been well" He said as his gaze remaind on the khoi pond.

"I thought your duty was to be my guard, I hadn't thought there was others you had as well" you said with a bit of a laugh to keep the mood light.

"Yes, it was my duty to be your personal guard my lady but now Naoya-sama assists your everywhere leaving me useless in that position"

You kept quiet trying to think of what else you could say, but Choso began speaking again.

"I don't blame him. I too, would want to be around the woman I love and our child that grows with in her" his gazed shifted from the pond to your bump.

You watched as his eyes remained on your child for a few minutes before connecting with your eyes, and when you looked into his eyes you saw all the memories you had created with him from the day you tried to get his name to the last night you made love in the very spot the two of you now stood.

And you tried your best to come up with what next to say but your mouth had beat you to it already speaking.

"Choso I'm sorry" you said the tears slowly began to form in your eyes and your voice got caught in your throat.

"I'm so-sorry for e-very-thing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Choso. I'm sorr-"

"Do not apologize for things you have no control of" he said meeting you gaze again as his own eyes were filled with tears.

"You could not help falling pregnant, just as much as I could not help falling in love with you"

__________________________________________

You sat quietly in the temple situated on the far right of the zenin estate, as you awaited on the monk who would tell you of his premonitions of your child.

Each second passed slower than the next and your mind began drifting to prior evening....

After Choso's confession you stood there eyes widened and heart beating fast. You knew he had feelings towards you but never thought they would be as strong as love. You didn't know how to act or what to say at his words once again allowing silence to fall upon you but not as long as before.

Choso turned his body towards yours taking your hands in his. He placed a soft kiss upon your lips.

"Even if our fate was not kind enough to let us be together I'm glad I was blessed to meet you my (Y/N)"

"Lady (Y/N)" spoke the monk breaking your daydreaming to last night.

"My deepest apologies for my daydreaming" you said with a slight bow of your head.

"Quite alright my dear, the baby probably keeping you up" the kind old monk said as he looked upon you with a smile.

"Shall we begin" continued the monk as he placed a cup of green tea infront of you.

You carefully blew onto the hot water trying your best to cool it down before you drank it. You took slow sips in hopes to not burn your tongue. When the tea was nearly done you passed the ceramic cup back to the monk.

He began examining the bottom of the mug that contained the leaves.

You watched carefully as he examined the leaves hoping to be able to tell what he would say to you, what he could tell you about your child before they came into the world.

The monk carefully placed the cup on the chubdai to the left of him as he shifted closer towards your.

"May I" he said as he raised his hands towards your face.

He starred deeply into your eyes, his face remained expressionless as his hands then shifted to your bump.

He gently began applying pressure to your bump as he moved his hands around it.

He removed his hands and looked back at the cup and then your bump.

He began to close his eyes, his eyebrows slowly began to crease and the monk opened his eyes.

"From what I have seen, your child is blessed. It shall have be loved by all especially its father, as it will carry on the family name bringing great honour towards it"

You smiled as your hand instinctively went to cradle your bump, as you listen to the monk continue to talk.

"They shall be as honorable as their father and as caring as their mother" the monk continued.

You began imagining how your life would be when you finally were able to meet this child the monk spoke so highly of, how they'd bring so much joy to your life.

"This child shall be known as the great dragon, bringing great successes, having strength of great warrior and wisdom of a nobleman"

"This child - " the monk said as his eyes grew bigger.

You now grew anxious as the monk did not finish his sentence. He now looked at you with an odd expression one which you were unable to decipher.

The monk closed his eyes again.

"I see two lions running towards this child; one whose mane is fully grown and the other whose mane is still in growth. When they reach the child, the child only reaches his hands out to the lion whose mane is still growing"

The monk opened his eyes again and now looked at you with the same face of shock like he could not believe what he had just seen.

You were unsure of what to do next, but you kept quiet hoping the monk would explain what he had just seen.

"The lions in that premonition represents the child's father"

"The lion with the mane represents"

And the monk closed his eyes again.

.

.

.

.

.

Hope you guys like this chapter, let me know.

🌸🌸💗

[dkakapizzaboy]

Fics Masterlist

Headcanons:

➡️ Seventeen's fanfiction Preferences (of themselves)

➡️ Casting Svt as Characters in KDramas I’ve Watched

Members:

1:30pm

Obliviously Obvious (Part 2 of 1:30 pm, NSFW, MINORS SHOO AWAY!)

Bend It Like_ (nsfw)

4pm

Chocolate Croissant

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

jealous Wonwoo in the library (suggestive)-hard hours

6:30pm

I’m Not Cute (Smut)

Darling I’m a Nightmare Dressed like a Daydream (Svthub’s 70steen collab)

5pm

1am

Camouflaged (SUGGESTIVE- MINORS DNI): Part 1

He was sunshine, I was Midnight Rain (Svthub Secret Garden Collab)

Office Au! Series

1️⃣11am

2️⃣6pm

3️⃣7:15pm

Café Conversations

stoner bf Vernon shotgunning- hard hours

thigh riding Vernon- hard hours

(I (mainly) only write SFW fics currently, don't have the talent to write NSFW honestly 🥲)

[therealkaidertrash21]

I'm going to humble myself by showing you

My TLC fanarts throughout the years

its not all of them because I'm not going to show tje ones i did when I was 10 because that TOO humbling, and there's also others that are too bad or make me cringe to much. but I think most of them are here.

*sigh* here we go...

also, the photos are going to look very bad because editing them won't make them look better

2020 (?

F*CK geez, jumpscare... those eyes 😥, but besides that is not that bad... I'm sorry Iko

this is cinder's hand and glove at the end of Cinder. I dont remember the scene very well but her glove was melting I think??? it's not had, I actually like it

2021 (?

I was really into designing clothes for Winter and Cinder/Selene

I'm not going to show you the Selene ones but they exist

this looks like Cinderella's dress and it was not intentional.

2022

This is Selene, not Cinder. when I daydream about tlc, sometimes I think about that kind of au that explores what would have happened if Channary didn't die. here I drew Selene. she's on earth and like going to a forced date with Kai (? and the dress is from Pinterest

SCARLET 🥹😍😍😍🥰🥰💕💕🐺🐺🐺🐺 my cottagecore wife

this is actually Nightmare from Renegades. and it looks bad but it's just a sketch.

Winter 🥰😍

I'm sorry, Iko. I just keep doing her dirty. I'm sorry lol. her eyes look weird...

CRESSSSSS something about this looks off but I like it overall

I can't put more than 10 pics, so here is part two