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last-words-ofashootingstar · 1 year ago

Text

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

��The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

"Hello, Si-"

"Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

"Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

"Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

"No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

"Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

"I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

"Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

"Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

"Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

"Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

"Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

"Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

"I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to. A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

"Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

"Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

"I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

"Where is your family?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

"Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

"I must admit... a bit."

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

"Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

"Mingi—"

So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person.

He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

"W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

"It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

"G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

And he absolutely revels in it.

"Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

"Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

"Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

"Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

"Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

"Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

"Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

"Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven."

The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

"Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

"I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

"If it is, we would be silly together."

"You mean-"

"Yes."

You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

"Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

"Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

"Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

"Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

"Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

"Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

"You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

"No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

"Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

"He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

"Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

"Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

"Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

They share a look.

It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner.

He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

"Buck."

"Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

"Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

"Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

"That's what's gonna happen."

"You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

He puts a bullet in his brain.

You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

And then all is silent.

With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder.

"What the hell was that, boy?"

"That was me saving your ass."

༄

Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down. And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

Because he was the gunner.

Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

WANTED.

DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

The door to the bar swings open.

The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

"Mingi..."

"Are you okay, Doll?"

You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

"Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

"What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

"You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

"Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

"You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

They don't know that Mingi was the one.

He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

"Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

"I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

"Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

"Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

"Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

"Why not?"

All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

"Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

"Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

"Aye, man, I did what yo-"

"Too close."

"Just give me my mon-"

His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

"Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

"I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry, slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

"I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

"I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

"You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

"Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

"Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

Mingi is so deep.

Mingi is so thick.

Mingi fucks you so good.

Mingi treats you so good.

Mingi loves you.

Mingi.

"Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

"Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

"F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

"Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

"You did... but I liked it."

He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

"But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

"I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

"Mrs. Song."

༄

#ateez #ateez smut #smut fic #yandere ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #yandere mingi #mingi smau #mingi smut #ateez smau

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enchantedchocolatebars · 4 months ago

Text

A Winsome Witch And A Happy Human Chapter 4: (Original Spinet Theme)

Written by 💕 enchantedchocolatebars 🍫 (me lol).

Chapter 1 here.

Chapter 2 here.

Chapter 3 here.

Commission cover art here.

Cover art poll here.

Chapter titles here.

Chapter 4 snippet here.

Thank you, @talisman975, for reading the parts of the chapter that I shared with you, as well as sharing your thoughts.

Tagging: @pokeycub

Enjoy ! <3

Heavy rainfall pelted down from the darkened skies on a Sunday in the Connecticut town of Gravesfield as a husband and wife were inside their home, enjoying each other's company, their love untouched by the storm brewing outside.

"Hello, little gentleman," Cadman said in a gentle tone, greeting and accepting the little blonde bundle that his wife placed in his arms.

"Look at that little face of yours," the brunette man commented with a chuckle, brushing aside the tiny, developing lock of hair growing above his son's forehead.

"You're already maturing into a handsome young man." Cadman soon pressed a kiss on Caleb's brow.

Even though Caleb was a bit of a handful, he was still a welcomed addition to the Wittebane family.

Cadman was content with holding and singing small songs to Caleb when he wasn't too exhausted, even if Caleb sometimes fussed.

After a significant amount of trial and error, the father found that carving small gifts or taking his son outside to observe the cardinals perched on tree branches were the most effective methods of soothing him.

Patience, who was about to give birth to another child in eight months, smiled at the two and kissed both of their cheeks before gazing down at Caleb.

"You're going to have a little brother to love, play with, and take care of when you're older, Caleb. Isn't that going to be so much fun?" the blonde mother asked.

Caleb gurgled excited baby noises at that news, causing both of his parents to laugh.

The blonde was already a very lively and cheerful boy at only 5 months old.

...

Small, dotted eyes that are cornflower blue slowly begin to open as Baby Philip witnesses the faces of his father and brother for the first time while being held gently by his mother as she sat up in bed, her back against her pillow.

As all three members of his family cast their warm, sunny smiles down on him, Philip reacts to the love he's receiving like a flower.

His small smile grows immensely as his little baby hands reach up without hurry to touch his parents and brother, which causes them to roar with hearty laughter.

A montage commences as the laughter in the room transitions to the start of this song.

...

As Kid Philip bolts into his shared bedroom, Caleb follows behind him at a slower speed, wielding a quill in his left hand.

The brunette proceeded to press his back against the wall behind his room door as he stood up straight, smiling fondly at his brother as he looked forward, sweet blue eyes gazing into warm brown ones.

Caleb, smiling back at his younger sibling, placed the pen horizontally above Philip's head, its tip facing the wall.

Moving the tip across the wall, the blonde creates a short, straight mark over Philip's head.

After Philip steps away from the wall, Caleb begins to record both his brother's height and age on it, with his height being written on the left side of the mark while his age is written on the right.

4. 5 feet - five-years-old

…

The early summer sun shone brightly in the afternoon sky, casting warmth across the atmosphere as Caleb cheerfully assisted his mother in churning butter on their farm, her hands over his as they cranked away at the churner.

Chirp-chirp-chee!

As Caleb gazes at the trees on the other side of the farm, believing that's where the chirps came from, the short, soft trills continue as a bird with vibrant red plumage flutters down and finds a comfortable spot to perch on.

Chrip!

Looking to his collarbone, Caleb spots a small male cardinal on his shoulder as he beams, brown eyes filled with excitement and wonder at the northern bird.

Patience gave a small, sweet laugh at her son's excitement, smiling fondly at both him and the cute little cardinal that he had.

She moves her hand over to gently pat the bird's head with her finger, being careful not to mess up his smashing hairdo.

…

The churned butter is quickly incorporated into a combination of wet and dry ingredients to create a cake topped with strawberries for Philip's 6th birthday, which is quietly celebrated in secret among the family.

…

Philip and his father exited a shop on All Hallows' Eve as the full moon illuminated the dark night sky.

The new carving knife Cadman had purchased to carve pumpkins at home with his boys was put in his pocket.

The two then heard a chorus of slow, lifeless moans coming from behind them and stopped in their tracks.

Cadman and Philip felt danger approaching as they slowly turned around and saw dozens of undeceased "witches" who had emerged from the dead, clearly seeking vengeance for their unjustified killings.

They were lumbering forward toward, in their eyes, two living sacks of human flesh that they planned to bite and have join in on their revenge crusade.

With wide eyes and a pounding heart, Cadman's instincts to protect his child quickly kicked in as he grabbed Philip's hand and soon bolted away from the pale green fiends.

Seconds later, Philip charges back at the death-dealing savages with his wooden sword, ready to send them all back to Heck where they belong, only for Cadman to bolt back after him.

Hurriedly snatching his son back with his right arm, Cadman takes off out of town, carrying Philip under his arm to prevent him from fleeing again.

…

With his boots and farm attire on, Cadman was ready to harvest his November crops.

His wife pulled out his brown leather hat from behind her back, placed it on his head, and planted a gentle kiss above his brow.

…

Cadman started cutting his crop stalks at a faster pace with his sickle as dark clouds surrounded the sky, not paying close attention to the sharp metal blade of his tool.

While working, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, and the agonizing scream he exclaimed pierced the air.

As he slowly raised the hand he used to clutch his stomach, he noticed a dark crimson stain on his hand and quickly went wide-eyed.

He had a horrific look on his face as lightning flashed across the sky.

It was clear to him that his accidental cut could lead to more serious complications if he didn't return home promptly and have his wife take care of it.

As he stood, he made an effort to move quickly, but his injury was causing him to stumble while hobbling.

…

The furious storm continued into the night as Patience rested back in her rocking chair, reading a Bible story to her boys as they both listened keenly, sitting criss-crossed on the rug.

An urgent and loud bang on the door startled the three as Patience set her husband's Bible down and went to answer it.

The shrill scream from their mother caught Philip and Caleb off guard as she quickly rushed past them.

She directed the two to remain where they were while she went to retrieve a dampened cloth.

Although the boys had no idea what was happening, the sound of their father moaning in pain made their fret visible on their faces.

…

The dark, dreary skies matched the sadness that was brewing in the air as an undertaker laid Cadman's body to rest.

Patience sobbed heavily into her hands, unable to watch her beloved being buried as she and her sons stood on the side.

During her crying, her boys begin to shed tears.

They both clutch the lower half of their mother's dress, tightly holding onto the fabric as she wraps her arms around them for comfort.

…

Patience found it difficult to adapt to widowhood and life as an independent mother, but it was something she had to endure.

She frequently blamed herself for the death of her husband.

However, the presence of her boys made things less dreadful for her.

Caleb and Philip consistently assisted Patience with household tasks and always knew how to make her smile.

…

When Patience fell ill to an unknown sickness, it was up to Caleb to take care of her since he was the oldest child, with Philip occasionally doing what he could to help.

With the house's finances becoming more scarce, Caleb struggled to bring down his mother's fever, only with a wet rag at his disposal as Patience became more and more ill with every passing day.

…

One day, when Philip arrived home with a sack of apples that Caleb had instructed him to buy, he heard a faint echo of crying.

The reverberation spread throughout the hallway.

When Philip neared the dining room, he saw his brother with his head down on the table, wailing almost grievingly.

As Caleb slowly raised his head, he saw Philip and felt the weight of everything weighing heavily on him.

He stood up and ran to hug his brother tightly.

Philip was able to quickly understand what had occurred based on Caleb's emotions and was unable to move.

When the sack fell from his grasp and hit the ground, apples tumbled onto the floor.

Caleb was embraced with the same level of tightness by Philip, who quietly cried in his brother's arms.

…

At least Cadman and Patience were now buried side by side, as both Philip and Caleb couldn't imagine the two being apart even in death.

…

The death of their parents made neither boy want to remain in the house, as it was not the same without Cadman and Patience present.

Not only did the atmosphere lack the love of their parents, but the house's structure was starting to break down as well.

They needed a new house to live in.

…

Before they set off on their search for a new home, Caleb went into the chicken coop and said goodbye to all the birds that came into contact with him while Philip went into the stables.

Approaching his favorite brown stallion, the two proceeded to have a heart-to-heart as Philip reached up and gently ran his hand through the horse's mane while the horse pushed his nose into his palm.

A hug was soon given by Philip as he wrapped one arm around the horse's neck.

…

While the two brothers were walking hand in hand through the woods, they came across a brown wooden cottage at the end of the woods.

The wood was slightly worn, and shutters were dangling from their hinges on the two front windows, as observed by both of them.

As Caleb contemplated whether or not he and Philip should enter the house, an enthusiastic Philip ran toward the cottage.

Surprised by the sudden action, Caleb followed after, catching up with his brother as they entered the house.

Based on its current weathered condition, the wooden house seemed to belong to no one.

Well, no one except for the Wittebanes now.

…

At night, Philip had trouble falling asleep in his shared room as he heard Caleb's muffled cries, the blonde quietly sobbing into his pillow.

Caleb's current state left Philip feeling sad and sympathetic, prompting him to turn his gaze to the ceiling, fold his hands, and silently pray for God to bring his brother joy again.

Subsequently, he thanks God for taking care of the souls of his parents while they are in heaven.

…

Caleb awakens Philip the next day with a smile and eagerly urges him to get out of bed.

He wants to mark his height on their wall.

4. 6 feet - eight-years-old

Philip's growth excites both him and his brother as they cheer.

Caleb lifts Philip up and spins him around with joy, while the brunette giggles in delight as the music and montage come to a satisfying end.

...

"It looks like you're getting taller and taller every day, Pip," Caleb remarked with a sunny smile as he finished cooking breakfast for his brother on the black cast iron skillet.

He used the remaining flour, eggs, milk, and sugar to make it.

"Mm-hm!" Philip happily hummed in agreement with Caleb while seated at the dining room table with a wooden plate in front of him.

"Someday, I may even grow taller than you, Caleb," the brunette claimed with a great deal of confidence as he casted a playful grin, and his eyes immediately lit up at the the pancake being slipped onto his plate.

The cake was lumpy, as Caleb's always were, but Philip still enjoyed them nonetheless.

The blonde began to chuckle as he walked over to the water bucket and placed the used skillet inside it.

Returning to the table with a small glass bottle of maple syrup from the cabinet, Caleb poured the remaining amount onto Philip's pancakes.

Upon seeing the sweet, golden syrup flowing down on his food, the youngest's lips started curling up.

However, he noticed two empty chairs at the table, which were the seats his parents could have been sitting in alongside him if they were still alive.

His head began to swell with memories of them making the mornings more lively as he sighed, gazing down at his lap.

Caleb quickly noticed his fading smile and stopped pouring.

Philip soon felt a comforting hand gently make contact with his shoulder and slowly looked up to see his brother shining a small, reassuring smile at him.

Philip attempted to generate a smile of his own to reciprocate but was unable to do so.

"What's wrong?" Caleb asked, setting the syrup bottle down and taking a seat next to Philip.

Philip was quiet.

"Is it about... them?"

Caleb was aware that the loss of both of their parents was a sensitive topic.

Philip nodded slowly.

"Yes, and also...," he softly said before pausing, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes.

"It's school," he admitted with a soft sniffle before continuing. "It's not the same without you, Caleb. Without you there, the other children don't seem to be fond of or interested in being around me."

The news he heard made the elder feel terrible as he looked at Philip's sad face.

Caleb's role as the household's breadwinner forced him to stop attending school and start working various jobs around town.

Working excessively made him feel fatigued, but it was for the benefit of Philip.

Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother.

"I see...," the blonde said solemnly as he sighed but then managed to smile again.

"Hey, Philip," he began, wiping away his brother's fallen tears with his thumb.

"When you get back from school, let's play some of our favorite games together. I might even make you a surprise when I get back from working."

"Really?!" Philip gasped loudly as he sniffled, his smile reappearing on his face. "You promise?"

"I do," Caleb pledged, keeping his tone soft, as he and Philip proceeded to link their pinkies together.

...

"Are you all packed and ready for school, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip while standing at the front door with him.

Philip responded to the question with an energetic head nod while wearing his brown neck satchel.

He patted the bag twice with his left hand to indicate that everything he needed was inside it.

Caleb then quirked a brow and smirked with playful suspicion as he continued.

"You didn't include any dead birds or live snakes in your satchel, did you?"

Philip gave a simple smile before shaking his head.

"Philip..."

"I didn't!"

Behind his back, the brunette concealed his crossed fingers.

"I promise!"

Caleb smiled at his trustworthy little brother before opening the door, not feeling the need to check his satchel. "Good!"

He proceeded to embrace Philip tightly with love.

"Have a good day at school then," he whispered. "We'll see each other later."

The brunette hugged his brother back. "Okay, Caleb."

He hoped their hug would last forever, but as with all good things, it had to come to an end.

Once it did, Philip began his journey to school and turned to wave at Caleb.

"Bye, Caleb!"

Upon returning the wave, Caleb smiled. "Bye, Pip!"

Following Philip's departure, Caleb closed the door and headed for the stairs, needing to prepare for the busy day he knew he was going to have.

Knock, knock!

"Oh?"

Caleb proceeded to return to the door and opened it once again, believing that Philip must have forgotten something and came back to retrieve it.

On the opposite side, an older, familiar figure stood, gently holding a hen against his body.

He exhibited a lengthy white beard, tattered brown overalls, no shoes, and a brown hat that covered his bald head.

"Good morning!" Mr. Kookman chirped in a crackly and friendly tone, raising a hand up to greet Caleb while still maintaining a firm hold on his wife, Henrietta.

Yes, his wife.

She was a wonderful hen.

Mr. Kookman was the local kook and a neighbor to Caleb and Philip.

He resided inside the woods.

The man would frequently visit their doorstep to request essentials, such as...

"Could I borrow some spare breeches?" he politely asked as Henrietta clucked.

"Henrietta said good morning as well," Mr. Kookman informed Caleb with a chuckle.

"... Uh..." The blonde shifted awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head, shining a nervous smile.

He aspired to be polite, but at the same time, he was unsure about what to say.

...

Jesus Christ and one of his disciples, a name who went by the title 'The Witch Hunter Emperor', were casually mandering through a market.

The Emperor wore a large cape with white, brown, and gold trim under his Puritan attire, representing strength, righteousness, and purity.

As the two observed the fresh fruits and vegetables on display, the ground began to make slight movements, which soon became violent.

Citizens and sellers began to flee as panicked screams filled the air.

The shaking suddenly stopped, resulting in the appearance of a massive green serpant with small demon wings emerging from the ground.

The snake's menacing gaze is directed at Jesus and the Emperor, and it suddenly lunges at them.

...

"... And after they defeated the serpant with the power of prayer, Gravesfield is saved thanks to Jesus and his disciple, The Witch Hunter Emperor!"

Philip's smile beamed with sinless pride as he stood before his entire class, displaying his childlike journal illustration of Jesus and The Witch Hunter Emperor being tossed in the air by the cheering citizens for defeating the serpent.

"..."

The brunette was expecting a more boisterous reaction from his classmates rather than blank stares.

"Philip, can you explain what any of that has to do with the Ten Commandments?" his teacher asked with a tired sigh while sitting at her desk.

"Uh..." As Philip's smile slowly faded, his cheeks and ears blushed pink, and he turned away from the teacher's gaze and looked at the floor.

His tired teacher signed once more. "Go take your seat."

Philip quickly looked up. "But--,"

His teacher's sharp, sour expression instructed him to refrain from speaking back and immediately take his seat, which he did.

Despite some of his peers still choosing to look at him, Philip attempted to pay attention as another student was called up to the front.

...

After the teacher rang her handheld bell, the class was dismissed as students started to leave and go to the door.

As Madison was beginning to walk out of the school door...

"Hello, Madison!" A cheerful Philip did not hesitate to greet his crush as he popped his head up from the bush that grew on the left side of the school entrance.

He was intentionally waiting for her to come out after him so that he could ask her a question.

"Eee!" Madison's surprise was palpable as she quickly turned her attention to the bush on her left.

The redhead with her hair in a bun bonnet saw Philip.

"Philip?" she asked as she blinked a few times, wondering what the brunette was doing in the bush.

Philip nodded. "May I smell your hair?" he requested kindly with a smile.

His brother instilled in him the importance of using good manners.

"Uh... sure?" Madison told him tentatively as she leaned the side of her face forward, allowing Philip to get a whiff of her hair, despite his question to do so being odd.

Once he did, his face instantly lit up. "Madison, your hair! It smells so pretty!"

"Oh!" The compliment caused a bit of blush to appear on her cheeks as she smiled. "Thank you, Phil--"

"Did you take a bath?" Philip gave a smile as he thought his question was a flattering remark.

However, Madison didn't take it that way.

She let out an offended gasp, giving Philip a glare as she started to walk away, clearly upset by his choice of words.

"W-Wait!" Philip stammered as he stretched out his hand, not wanting Madison to go.

The redhead came to a stop on her leather shoes and turned around.

"What?" she growled with flushed cheeks, attempting to suppress her tears.

Philip opened his satchel and reached inside, grabbing the dead bird and living snake that were inside.

"L-Look! I have presents for you!" he shyly squeaked out as he smiled a nervous smile.

Madison's eyes widened at the two animals in his hands as she admitted a terrified shriek and quickly took off.

"You're weird!" she shouted while running.

Hearing those words echo in his head, Philip felt his heart split in two.

"Oh...," he softly said as he felt his shoulders and head drop, slowly letting go of the bird and snake.

...

Caleb walked along the path in the woods that would lead him to town.

'Alright then, Caleb,' he began to tell himself in his mind, his tone commanding and determined. 'Your first duty when you arrive in town is to help Mr. Town Minister.'

Caleb acknowledges what he mentally instructed himself to do with a nod.

Caleb's arrival in town triggers a montage of him working at his various jobs.

...

With buckets of soapy water and soaked sponges, Caleb and Mr. Town Minister started to remove the vandalism that was written all over the meeting house by an unknown witch.

The minister scrunched his brows and grumbled under his breath as he scrubbed away the impertinent insults that were written about him.

Meanwhile, Caleb had to bite his tongue to avoid laughing at the sentence that said, 'Mr. Town Minister is a doo-doo head'.

It could have all been inside Caleb's head, but he swore he could hear someone cackling a witch-like cackle in the distance, but he couldn't see them.

...

After the vandalism was removed, Mr. Town Minister thanked Caleb and presented him with his payment, which consisted of a basket containing a small pouch of coins.

...

An image of Caleb's basket slides down the scene, transitioning it to the town bakery.

Inside, Mrs. Doughberry hands Caleb a brown sack filled with expired baked goods and orders him to take them behind her shop to bury them.

Once that task is completed, his payment, a small slice of mildly sweet vanilla cake, is added to his basket as the scene transitions to Mr. Bartlett's horse barn.

Opening the stable doors while holding a pitchfork and bucket, Caleb's nose is immediately hit with the foul stench of horse manure.

He scrunches up his nose and grimaces, staying close to the wide, barn doors.

Although he didn't want to go inside, he knew he had to in order to continue sustaining his brother and himself, so he slowly entered and closed the doors behind him.

After the stables were free of manure and smelled a lot better, Mr. Bartlett dropped a small pouch stuffed with coins into Caleb's basket.

...

Caleb is seen resting his back against a tall tree in the center of the woods, using a scrub to gently brush the feathers of a calm Henrietta as she sat on his lap as if sitting on an egg.

Each brush stroke results in her releasing a soft cluck as she settles more into Caleb.

After the final scrub, Caleb walks over to Mr. Kookman and hands his wife over to him.

He beams and spins her with joy, taking note of her well-brushed feathers.

Tucking Henrietta under his arm, Mr. Kookman begins to take Caleb's payment out of his pocket.

Pulling out his basket from behind his back, the blonde receives a half-bitten woolen sock as his neighbor gives him a genuine smile.

Caleb smiles awkwardly at him, choosing to remain polite while thanking Mr. Kookman as the montage ends.

...

"Oh, Philip!"

Caleb was cheerful and upbeat as he opened the cottage door and stepped inside, holding his basket filled with earnings from a day of hard work as he closed the door.

Silence persisted in the air as the elder didn't receive a response.

'Hmm, perhaps he hasn't arrived home yet?' Caleb pondered to himself as he headed toward the dining area.

As the blonde arrived in the room, he suddenly gasped as he froze at the entrance, staring at the dejected sight.

The air was still with silence and sorrow.

"Philip?" A concerned Caleb called out quietly to his brother as he hurried over to the table, taking a seat beside him.

He placed his basket down before placing a comforting hand on his back, rubbing the area with great gentleness.

"What's wrong?"

No answer.

"Did something happen at school?"

No reply from the brunette.

After another brief pause, Caleb chose to ask another question, this one more well-considered.

"Would you like to have a discussion about it once you're ready to talk?"

Philip didn't respond right away, but when he did, he replied with a small sigh and nodded his head, which was down on the table.

"Very well then, Pip," Caleb whispered, managing to shine a small smile down on his brother.

"Take your time. There's no rush. Do you recall the surprise I promised to make for you when I came home?"

"Yes?" A silent Philip finally spoke, his tone soft and tearful.

"Well, how about you watch me work on it. As it's being crafted, you can make guesses on what it is. How does that sound?"

As Philip slowly looked up at his brother, his lips perked into a soft, bittersweet smile.

"That sounds like fun," he said, still thinking a bit about what happened between him and his crush.

...

With a bright smile and hands placed politely on his knees while sitting criss-crossed, Philip keenly watched his brother begin to add an eye hole to the wooden surprise he was carving for him.

"Oh, oh! I already know what you're making me, Caleb!" Philip excitedly exclaimed with a small bounce as he directed his finger at the progressing work.

"You're making me a mask!"

Caleb chuckled as he confirmed Philip's answer with a nod while seated on the sitting room stump, carefully sinking his knife into the second eye hole he was creating.

"That's right, Pip, I am," Caleb said, carving holes in the top part of the mask. "And I'm almost finished, too!"

"You are? Hooray!" Philip cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

The elder gestured for the younger to hand him the two antler-shaped branches that were lying nearby on the floor, and once he did so with a giggle, Caleb attached them inside the holes like horns.

"Ooo, they look like mandibles!" Philip beamed out with a wide smile.

Caleb gave a chuckle. "Mandi-what, Pip?" he asked, puzzled by the new word.

"They're the mouthpart of an insect," Philip explained. "Beetles have them!"

Beetles were his favorite insects.

"Ooooh!" Caleb went in realization. "Hmm... I thought they looked more like deer antlers."

After a short-lived thought, he shrugged his shoulders. "I guess they can be both."

...

After affixing a string onto the mask, Caleb was finally done.

He smiled fondly at his creation, then at Philip.

"Look, Pip, I've finished your mask!" Caleb said, showing it to Philip. "Come try it on!"

Philip gasped.

"Oh, boy!" Springing toward Caleb, Philip took his new mask and placed it on his face.

"How is it?" Caleb inquired while watching blue eyes blink inside the rounded eye holes.

"It's..."

A shaky smile started to spread on Caleb's face as he watched Philip slowly direct his gaze to the ground in an almost eerie manner.

He didn't even notice his eye holes growing hollow.

Caleb silently prayed that his brother liked the mask.

"... Awesome!" Philip looked up to Caleb with a big smile, his eyes visible once more, which made the blonde breathe out a sigh of relief and wipe his brow.

"How do I look?"

"So cool!" Caleb complimented as he continued. "If a witch came across you, they would certainly perceive you as one of them."

Knowing that got Philip pumped, imagining himself as a great Witch Hunter General who managed to trick every witch he met wearing his mask before leading them to their deaths.

"Yay!" Philip beamed before speedily wrapping Caleb in a hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, so much, Caleb! Now we can play..."

"Witch Hunters!"

Both boys beam at the same time as they enthusiastically emerge behind a shiny pastel background filled with shimmering skulls and severed witch heads, with the words "Witch Hunters!" above them in rainbow glitter letters.

With Philip's wooden sword raised triumphantly in the air and Caleb, wearing his witch hat and cape during this moment, now raising his clenched fist, the scene transitions to the woods.

...

"Get back here, you speedy little witch hunter!"

"You'll never catch me, you fowl witch!"

Caleb, the wildest and most cunning witch in Gravesfield, was quite fast, but not as fast as Philip, the greatest and most feared witch hunter who ever lived.

A small, stealthy smile crept across Caleb's lips as he continued his mission to catch Philip, sharp brown eyes trying to pick out any sign of the hunter.

Caleb became more vigilant with every rustle of the leaves and trees, every crunch and snap of the twigs he stepped on, and every shadow that seemed to move independently.

Upon hearing a rustle behind a nearby bush, Caleb sprinted and was prepared to jump on it.

While running, he heard Philip taunt him from a distance and stopped, keenly listening.

"I'm not there, you silly witch. If you want to see me, you must go further," Philip advised, his daring voice echoing through the woods.

Caleb let out a giggle as he walked toward where he heard the echo.

This was by far his and Philip's most fun game of Witch Hunters yet.

"There you are, witch hunter!" Caleb approached Philip, who he saw standing on a small, rocky hill.

"So, this is where you chose to hide from me," he cackled, not paying much attention to the brown rope end that Philip was holding.

Philip shook his fist. "I wouldn't come closer if I were you, witch!" he warned, which only made Caleb cackle once more as he took another step.

"Oh, yeah?" the blonde hummed in a playful tone, holding up both of his hands as he was ready to cast a witchy spell.

Ominously wiggling his fingers, he asked, "And why's that?"

Caleb was standing precisely in the spot where Philip desired him to be.

The witch was oblivious to the fact that he had fallen into his trap with such ease.

Pulling tightly onto the rope end, the noose that was spread on the ground entraps Caleb as he loses balance and falls.

"That's why, witch!" Hopping down from the hill, Philip pulls out his wooden sword and raises it up over Caleb.

"Now DIE!" Philip roars, his eye holes hollow as he repeatedly plunges his weapon into Caleb's stomach.

The elder smiles broadly and closes his eyes, hanging his tongue out.

The "witch" was now "dead".

Placing his foot on the now "deceased demon", Philip takes on a heroic stance and wholeheartedly states, "Gravesfield is once again safe thanks to Witch Hunter General Philip!"

"Alright, Witch Hunter General," Caleb began as he broke character and opened his eyes.

"Time for us to play a different game," he chuckled with a smile.

...

A trio consisting of a woman in a coif and two men, one with dark hair and one with blonde hair, strolled smoothly through the town market.

As they began passing by a large wooden crate that was situated between two empty vendor booths...

PBBBT!!!

The horrendous sound immediately caused the three to stop, and they awkwardly shifted glances at one another, wondering who broke wind.

The woman, offended by the fact that the two gentlemen who were accompanying her would even assume that she would do such a sinful thing in public, begins to glare daggers at the two.

Tap, tap, tap, went her foot as she awaited for one or both of them to confess and repent.

When they didn't, the men both received sharp slaps to the faces from the woman as she huffed and walked away.

PBBBT!!!

Both men stared awkwardly at one another as they slowly backed away from each other.

Behind the crate, the faintest of giggles could be heard.

"I can't believe you convinced me to play such a game, Pip," whispered a giggly Caleb, who had just witnessed his brother blow the loudest raspberry. "It's so silly. If we get caught, we'll get into so much trouble."

"We won't," a giggly Philip whispered in a hushed tone as he pointed a finger at upcoming people. "Oh look, more people are coming, Caleb!"

Both boys began to form playful smiles.

A montage begins as various people pass by the crate that Philip and Caleb are hiding behind.

They hear a sharp and sudden raspberry, which they mistakenly believe is flatulence.

Their reactions, which were either confusion, shock, disgust, or embarrassment, cause the boys to chuckle quietly every time.

Caleb's chuckle attack is a result of Philip imitating a few of their reaction faces.

The boys continued to blow raspberries and softly laugh until the sky turned purple-black and was filled with stars, leading to the end of the montage.

...

"The sky sure is pretty, isn't it, Pip?" Caleb asked Philip.

The blonde found himself getting lost in the beauty of the night sky as he gazed upward, him and his brother still seated behind the large wooden crate.

"Mm-hm," Philip hummed listlessly in agreement, sitting with his knees drawn up as he gazed downward at the dirt, dragging his pointer finger across it.

Suddenly, a shooting star streaked brightly across the night sky.

Upon recalling his mother's words about shooting stars, Caleb gave a small gasp.

"Pip, look, look!" The blonde beamed, pointing a finger at the sky while gently tugging on his brother's yoke.

"Did you see that shooting star? It flew by so fast! We have to make a..."

As his brother sighed, Caleb gazed down at him, and all the enthusiasm in his voice slowly disappeared.

"... wish," he whispered, a look of concern crossing his face. "What's wrong, Pip?"

Philip sighed once more. "Do you remember when you asked me if something happened at school while we were at the table?"

Caleb nodded. "I do." The elder wrapped his arm around Philip's shoulder, pulling him close.

"Well," Philip softly continued, resting his head on Caleb's shoulder. "There's this girl that I really..."

Philip paused, not ready to reveal his feelings for Madison to Caleb.

"She... I tried to give her gifts, but she ran away and said that... I was weird."

"I see," Caleb said, softly rubbing his brother's back. "And what were the gifts you attempted to give her?"

"A dead bird and a snake," Philip revealed calmly. "They were really nice."

"O-Oh..." Caleb tried to conceal his shock by curling his lips into a small, caring smile.

"Well, you really like to write, Pip. Maybe you can write her an apology letter. I'll even try to help you with it. In addition to the letter, you can also give her gifts that are more... suitable for girls."

"Like what?" Philip asked innocently, looking up at his brother.

"Like... flowers!" Caleb answered. "Girls really like flowers. It's possible that if you gave this girl some flowers, she would really start to like you."

"Really?" The brunette started to perk up, knowing that they had flour at home.

Caleb nodded.

"Well, she did seem to really like it when I told her that her hair smelled pretty," Philip said, reminiscing on the moment as slight blush dusted his cheeks.

"I then asked her if she took a bath, but that's only because there's no way your hair could smell that good if you hadn't bathed, right Caleb?"

Before Caleb could react and respond to his brother's statement and question, both boys fell silent to the sound of upcoming footsteps.

Slowly poking their heads up, they both proceeded to see the shadow of a cloaked figure about Caleb's height, but slightly shorter, dawdling down the walkway.

The figure appeared feminine and had fluffy hair under their hood.

"Who is that?" Philip whispered, in which Caleb shrugged in response.

When the cloaked figure abruptly stopped between the crate and a booth on the right, they turned their head to the left, and Caleb and Philip quickly sunk down.

The mysterious figure's footsteps approached, causing both boys to feel their hearts race.

As the figure slowly attempts to peer behind the crate to determine who is present...

"THERE YOU ARE, WITCH!"

The figure, alarmed by the shouting, raises their head to see Mr. Town Minister running toward them.

Without delay, they start taking off immediately.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!" the minister shouted once more as the cat and mouse chase between him and the figure continued.

A loud, witchy cackle was heard by the figure due to their speed advantage over the minister.

'There's that same laugh from earlier today...' thought Caleb as he and Philip snuck off in the direction that led them out of town.

...

"... Did you see the way the minister was chasing that witch?"

As Philip asked his question, his blue eyes were big and bright with admiration while Caleb nodded with a smile and a yawn as both boys entered their home.

After the front door was closed, Caleb continued to follow Philip.

"He's so brave!" the brunette beamed with cheer as he and his brother were nearing the dining room.

"I hope that when I become a Witch Hunter General, I'll be just as good at hunting witches as he is."

"Yeah, me too!" Caleb said, his smile still present as he yawned out a second yawn.

As soon as they entered the dining area, both boys gasped and widened their eyes at the unwelcome guest in the room.

"Hey!" Philip's shout seems to attract the attention of the white-tailed deer near the table.

It froze for a moment before lifting its head out of Caleb's basket, fixing its gaze on the two children.

The boys and the deer's stares were short-lived as the woodland animal used its teeth to grab hold of the basket handle before making a beeline for the sitting room, which caused Philip and Caleb to gasp and quickly give chase after it.

Choas and commotion dominated the atmosphere as rambunctious footsteps rang out from the running.

...

The Wittebane household was now in tune with the quietness of the night as faint and gentle snores could be heard in the sitting room.

Philip, Caleb, and the deer were sleeping in a cluster on the rug in the room, under a large blanket that was draped over them.

Meanwhile, the basket was atop the sitting room's stump.

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harpersessentials · 1 year ago

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my current meow generation is living in brindleton bay and now with the new baby and the need to move into a new house, i decided to do my usual list of favourites nocc lots for brindleton bay.

i always imagine brindleton as a bucolic coastal world. well, less bucolic than henford, but still pretty much linked to the farming style of living. so all my choices follow that premise.

1 - Club Calico (40x30)

Bay Community Library (Library) by @moonlightowl-es

2 - Salty Paws Saloon (20x15)

Lighthouse Restaurant (Restaurant) by xnicole11xx

The Salty Paw (Restaurant/Lounge) by @kazroze

Old Pier Restaurant (Restaurant) by delpfina

The Whiskerman’s Grill (Restaurant) by @ariafaeyt

the happy lobster bar & restaurant (Restaurant) by @grenedae

Seafood Restaurant (Restaurant) by @flubber32c4

Whiskerman's Seafood (Restaurant) by @lilamausmaus

3 - Catscratch Cottage (20x15)

Bay Market (Retail) by schnuck01

Lady With Cats (Café) by simmarysims

Living on the Dock (Residential) by @catsaar

4 - Ragdoll Refurb (20x20)

Harbor Café & Bar (Bar/Café) by @catsaar

Brindleton Grocery Market (Retail) by @Jordan_Aslett

The Cornflower Crab (Restaurant) by @therubyramses-sims

Family Bay House (Residential) by simmarysims

5 - Tail’s End (40x30)

Brindleton Pawspital (Vet Clinic) by @mikkimur-sims

Ghoulery Farm (Residential) by @xogerardine

Hemingway House (Residential) by quiescence90

6 - Pupperstone Park (40x30)

Pumpkin Farm (Café) by MarmeladArt

Derwent Mansion (Residential) by @xogerardine

Brindleton Bay Community (Community Space) by fallon133

7 - It's A Good House (40x40)

Modern Farmhouse (Residential) by @awingedllama

Brindleton Park (Park) by @moonlightowl-es

Whimsy in Brindleton Bay (Residential) by @nomorebadtownies

8 - Domus Familiaris (30x30)

The Cardinal (Residential) by schnuck01

Creature Comforts Clinic (Vet Clinic) by schnuck01

Charme Rural (Residential) by @simsontherope

9 - Sporting Space (30x20)

Moore Shoppe (Retail) by @catsaar

Happy Tails (Vet Clinic) by @zebrafizz

Melrose (Residential) by @xogerardine

Dreamy Fall Home (Residential) by simmarysims

10 - Brindleton Pawspital (40x30)

Brindleton Pawspital (Vet Clinic) by Malloc1Lisa

Brindleton Pawspital (Vet Clinic) by @moonlightowl-es

Bayside Pet Hospital (Vet Clinic) by @therubyramses-sims

11 - Hound's Head (64x64)

Autumn Farm (Residential) by @BereSims20

Hillcrest House (Residential) by @BereSims20

Flower Farm (Residential) by @BereSims20

Brindleton Farmhouse (Residential) by @BereSims20

12 - Bedlington Boathouse (20x20)

Brindleton Bay Starter (Residential) by @theseptembersim

Beach House (Residential) by @plantsimgirl

Rustic Sandstorm (Residential) by @drewdsims

Lake Cottage (Residential) by @simnematographygj

Smuggler's Cottage (Residential) by @suanin89

Cozy Cottage (Residential) by @cubedkiwis

bedlington boathouse (Residential) by @myshunosun

13 - Hindquarter Hideaway (30x20)

Westbourne Barn (Residential) by @xogerardine

Nuptialem Borough (Wedding Venue) by @rebouks

Bab's Barn (Wedding Venue) by @plumbobteasociety (lite cc)

Basegame Starter Home (Residential) by @plantsimgirl

14 - Dachshund’s Creek (30x20)

Creekside Bungalow (Residential) by @magnoliidae

Secret House of a Little Witch (Residential) by @boringcat

15 - Chateau Frise (40x40)

Love & Pumpkins (Wedding Venue) by @moonlightowl-es

16 - Deadgrass Discoveries (30x30)

The Old Deadgrass Museum (Museum) by @surely-sims

Deadgrass Family Farm (Residential) by @ariafaeyt

The Enchanting Meadow (Residential) by @ladychaos

Wedding Barn (Wedding Venue) by @rachelpedd

Mansion Deadgrass (Residential) by @mikkimur-sims

House by the Lighthouse (Rental) by @peacefulprunes

#ts4 lots #akitas picks #ts4 download #ts4 brindleton bay #ts4 cats and dogs #brindleton bay

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heronchild-haven · 1 month ago

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Excerpt from my Grishaverse Heronchild AU (Thomas’ POV):

The sky hung grey and heavy over the hills and a chilling wind had set in at noon. The cornflowers and buttercups sprouting in the grass all around were the only sign of spring’s touch on Cambria.

Climbing up the slope, Thomas could make out the heretic even from a distance, robed entirely in black and unguarded, as any protection would’ve been superfluous. A short, slight girl in blue stood at his side. And a few paces behind them, surrounded by a retinue of soldiers and banner men, sat the white witch on a grey horse, rigid and upright, like a figure carved in ivory. Black flags displaying the jagged sigil of Edom fluttered all around her in the wind like a flock of ravens.

As he closed in, Thomas could feel their combined attention settling on him like a heavy weight.

Despite his height he felt like he was shrinking with every step towards the heretic. His gaze slid first to the girl, who he realised had to be Lucie Herondale. Even though she’d grown up since their time in Alicante, she looked younger than her age, appearing almost fragile in her thick, heavily embroidered coat and bejewelled headpiece, from which strands of hair had been ripped free by the wind. There was something haunted in her expression, and with a flash of pity Thomas thought—not for the first time—how terrible it must’ve been for her to spend all those years locked away and alone.

“Lightwood.” The heretic said as way of greeting, forcing Thomas to finally look at him. He’d expected to see something of the shy boy he’d known at the academy, but aside from the same wild hair and pale skin, James Herondale was almost unrecognisable. Even his eyes, which were still of the same strange colour, had a wildness in them now that lent them a predatory quality, and Thomas understood for the first time why so many found them unsettling. He lowered his gaze instinctively.

“I requested specifically to speak with Matthew Fairchild.” The heretic said coolly.

Thomas forced himself to meet his gaze again before replying: „It would be foolish to send our sun summoner into a potential trap.”

James Herondale cocked his head: „You are the more expendable one, then.” It wasn’t phrased as a question, and he was right. Thomas knew perfectly well the worth at which the clave currently held anyone carrying the Lightwood name, but he’d agreed to put himself at risk willingly, even though Carstairs’ hesitation to send his own son had been enough for him to know that the general suspected at least the possibility of an ambush. Better me than him.

„Either way,” the heretic continued without awaiting a reply to his remark. “There’s no need to pretend. I know that your sun summoner,” he enunciated the words slowly, almost mockingly: “is not anywhere near this camp.”

Thomas’ heart sank. They’d already lost the one advantage they’d hoped to employ. He did his best not to let anything show, trying to think of what Alastair might say in his place, even though he had no hopes of managing a convincingly derisive sneer.

“Do you really want to base your plans for battle on pure speculation?”

“As I said, there’s no need to pretend. The clave should know better than to try and trick me. Matthew Fairchild is not here.” He almost seemed to lament the fact. “He will meet his fate another day. As for you, you have until sundown to surrender and agree to our terms. No blood will flow if the Clave withdraws their troops peacefully from Cambria within two weeks time and hands over the lord and lady Lightwood to Edom.” Thomas’ mouth felt dry. He had not expected to be driven into a corner this rapidly. “Also,” the other man added: “that insolent son of lord Carstairs, Alastair, will have to be delivered tonight as a hostage and a sign of good will.”

The heretic mentioning Alastair set Thomas’ heart racing. If he held a grudge, if he had it out for Alastair, what in the world could Thomas do to protect him? He wasn’t supposed to accept any conditions of surrender, but what if Carstairs and Anna ended up changing their minds when faced with the might of Edom?

“The paladin is with them.” Thomas flinched violently. He’d almost entirely forgotten about the presence of the girl. She was mustering him with an amused, almost childlike sparkle in her eyes. How did she know?

James’ gaze slid to his sister, then back to Thomas, who began feeling unsettled under their joined attention. Avoiding their eyes, he glanced over at the witch, who observed the scene from her horse, her lips drawn into a thin line.

“So Carstairs brought both of his children,” the heretic said. “Very well, I was looking forward to getting even with the paladin anyway.”

It seemed pointless to even try and deny Cordelia’s presence, so Thomas kept quiet, still reeling from the heretic’s earlier demands.

“Aren’t you worried?” Lucie Herondale asked her brother, though the tone of her voice betrayed anticipation rather than concern. He looked at her and his expression softened ever so slightly, turning almost indulgent: “I have confidence in your abilities.”

He turned back to Thomas. “You all know what my sister and I are capable of. You are likely to loose this fight. Even with the great Elias Carstairs and his paladin daughter. Even with your incantatores,” he said, spitting out the Idrisian word like a curse.

Thomas’ blood was rushing in his own ears. He couldn’t think of anything to say, to try and bargain. He wasn’t Alastair. “I will convey your demands to the general.”

The heretic gave a slow nod: “If we don’t hear from you before sundown, you will be destroyed.”

It was a dismissal. Feeling dizzy, almost as if he was caught in a haze, Thomas took a few steps backward, putting some distance between himself and the siblings before he turned his back on them.

“Lightwood,” the heretic called again, forcing him to look over his shoulder one last time. “Deliver my regards to our sweet cousin.”

#so they’re all on opposite sides of a war…#and the other characters feature heavily #first chapter WILL be up before the year is over #sry for being inactive lol the semester hit me like a ton of bricks #my writing #heronchild #thomas lightwood #james herondale #thomastair #matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #fanfiction

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thatswhywelovegermany · 8 months ago

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Die Roggenmuhme

The Rye Aunt

The Rye Aunt is a female cereal demon and children's fright of German folk tales, who lives in grain fields.

The Rye Aunt wanders up and down in the fields, feeds on the grain and tears out the immature ears. If she is angry with the farmer, she punishes him by drying out his fields. In general, however, the appearance of the Rye Aunt in the fields is a sign of a good harvest. During the harvest, she flees into the last truss. The Rye Aunt receives a share of the harvest, which is either left behind or thrown into the field. This custom is to propitiate the Rye Aunt and bring about a fertile next year.

The Rye Aunt is generally thought to live underground, in the empire of the roots or in a cave.

The Rye Aunt punishes lazy maids, who have not spun off their spinning rocks in the Boxing Week. The breath of the Rye Aunt brings illness and death.

Appearance

The Rye Aunt is often described as completely black or snow-white, and of superhuman size. Her arms are long or made of iron. Her fingers are fiery or iron. It is also said that the Rye Aunt has claws on her hands, which may also be made of iron.

The Rye Aunt has unusually large breasts that are so long that she can fold them over her shoulders. She also has more than two breasts. These can be black, iron, wooden or silver. They are pointed and hard, have glowing iron tips or are fiery. The breasts are filled with tar, poisonous milk or blood.

The Rye Aunt is described as an old womanwith a wrinkled face featuring stinging awns, a crooked nose, and wears glasses. She is sometimes even described as headless or said to have an iron heart.

In addition, she can change her shape, for example into a turtle, a snake, a frog, a wolf, a black cat, a horned animal or a dog with a blanket.

The Rye aunt is often dressed in black, but has also been seen dressed entirely in gray. Her clothes are ragged. Sometimes the Rye Aunt also wears a red skirt, or she wears a red dress and a red cap. Sometimes, she wears blue coat and wide flowing skirts. Often the Rye Aunt wears a white headscarf like a reaper. Sometimes she walks on crutches.

The Rye Aunt is associated with several weather phenomena. When the wind blows through the cornfield, people say that the Rye Aunt moves over the grain. She is also traveling with the whirlwind.

The Rye Aunt appears in particular at midday between 12:00 and 13:00. If she encounters someone in the fields at midday, she kills them or frightens them, casting spells. If she finds women who have recently given birth in bed between 12:00 and 13:00 and between 18:00 and 20:00, she does the field work for them. If she does not find women in childbed at the specified time, a misfortune will happen to the mother and the child.

The Rye Aunt is often seen as a child scare. Her activities as a child-scaring figure are extremely varied.

In their tale no. 90 The Rye Aunt, the Brothers Grimm tell that the Rye Aunt swaps human children with changelings, but brings back the right child if the changeling is not suckled. Elsewhere it is said that she steals illegitimate children at midnight.

The Rye Aunt lies in wait in the field for all those children who want to pick cornflowers in order to scare and punish them. She also lures children into the field by waving her arms. She abducts children by putting them in her big bag or basket, of by taking the children under her wide flowing skirts to bring them to the empire of the roots. She may also pull children to her with an iron fireplace poker and has them guarded by a toad. She leads children astray in the field and lets them starve to death, or she comes with her flock of elves and lays the children on cushions of flowers, whereupon they fall asleep and never wake up again. The Rye Aunt appears as a witch when she casts spells or the Evil Eye on children, She may also appear as a nightmare when she sends evil spirits to disobedient children at night.

Children often have to suck on the breasts of the Rye Aunt. Sometimes, disobedient children get the big breasts beaten around their ears. The Rye Aunt is said to, hug children so tight that they are pressed against her breasts die as a result from suffocation or getting crushed in her embrace. The Rye Aunt also crouches in wolf form, hiding in the grain, and is accompanied by small dogs that lure children into her iron embrace. She is also regarded as the mother of the rye wolves, who eat the children.

The Rye Aunt chases children on horseback or runs as fast as a horse herself. In the latter case, she chases children to death in races. She can also fly and takes children to the sea to drown them there. If she accosts children, they must die.

The Rye Aunt demands that children eat a slice of bread spread with tar. If they do not comply, she cuts off their heads. She also smears children with tar from a bottle or covers their eyes with tar. She also scratches out children's eyes or blows out their eyesight. The Rye Aunt strangles children, twists their necks or cuts off their heads, and also cuts off their necks, noses, ears, or fingers. She also beheads children with a sickle, a knife or a saw. She cuts off the children's legs with a scythe. The Rye Aunt also tears off children's legs.

The Rye Aunt binds children into a bundle with a thread or ties the children to a thread and then beats them up. She pinches children with iron pincers or uses a pinch. She stabs children with pikes, of which she has three, one by the head and one in each hand. The Rye Aunt also stabs children with stalks or drives nails into their heels.

In her hand, the rye maid carries a rod or whip, which is to be regarded as a lightning rod. She also has a sceptre or an iron scourge, which she uses to beat children. She puts children in a nail barrel and rolls them around in it or drags them into a cave and crushes them there with a giant meat grinder. Otherwise, she also crushes children in an iron butter churn.

The Rye Aunt also bites and eats children. To get hold of children, she sets out traps. She slaughters and eats the children or kills and roasts them using her burning breasts and fingers. The Rye Aunt also throws children into a cauldron of hot water or sucks their blood.

All these stories were told children to deter them from wandering through the fields, which posed several dangers, including getting lost and freezing to death at night, encounters with dangerous animals, suffering injuries from farm equipment used on the fields, or merely the destruction of crops and yield loss by walking over the fields.

#german mythical creatures #roggenmuhme #rye aunt

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shady-tavern · 8 months ago

Text

Preview for "Heartless" the May Patreon Short Story

Everyone knew of the mage who had lost his heart. Some said he had given it to a beautiful but cruel witch, who had kept it since as a trophy. Others said he had been so cruel the beautiful witch had taken it in a bid to stop him and he haunted the lands ever since, lost and searching for what had been stolen.

Others once again said he had gambled it away in the hopes of never again fearing the touch of death and decay.

The legend changed depending on the warning people wanted to impart, but everyone agreed on one thing: Anyone who was able to return the mage's heart was owed a wish. A powerful one at that, one that could even bring back the dead. Or so they said.

Many people had tried to retrieve the heart over the years. Older folk who desired to regain their youth, young lovers who wanted to stay together forever and grieving parents who wanted their slain children back. Even slighted nobles who wished to marry a king to climb in station and show up their rivals along with hopeful peasants who wanted to enrich their lives had given it a try.

The yearning for eternal beauty, for invincibility, the desire to grow rich and famous, love and greed, despair and dreams, all those and more had driven people to seek out the mage.

He wasn't terribly hard to find if one knew how to, people said. One needed a cloudless night during a full moon, creating a circle made of acorns and cornflowers. A bowl would be placed in four spots, facing the four points of the compass.

A bowl of milk facing the south, a bowl of salted mushrooms to the east, a bowl of white bones to the north and to the west stood a bowl filled with iron shavings.

Once those things were in place, one had to sing the mage's song. A lament that could not be messed up even once, nor was the singer allowed to stutter. The smallest misstep meant the mage would not deign to appear.

But once the ritual was completed, he'd be there, ethereal and beautiful. And very much heartless. Some people said his eyes were empty and black like coals, others said he was relentlessly hungry, a near mindless beast driven to try and get back what he had lost.

In stories he was either cold and uncaring or a moaning beast willing to tear people apart. Some said he ripped out their hearts when they failed to get him his back and that he stuffed theirs into his chest instead, only for the hearts to turn to dust in his hands.

Others said he was quite satisfied with his lot in life, that he liked not feeling anything, walking in eternal coldness. That it made him sharp and impossible to trick and that his magic had become all the more powerful for it.

Whatever truth there may be to these stories, one thing remained unchanged: He had no heart. No one had been able to give it back to him, no matter how hard they had tried.

You could admit that you liked hearing stories about something as wondrous and yet as far removed from your life as a heartless mage. Your life was quiet and gentle and you liked it that way. While you loved stories of kings and queens and magical conquests, of evil slain and good prevailing, of innocent people rescued, such things had no place in your day to day life.

You were the daughter of a warm, frugal man who had married a reasonably rich merchant, a woman who gave freely and happily and both of them had raised you with plenty of love and care. You had wanted for nothing when they filled the house with laughter and taught you everything they could with gentle hands.

When you had decided to become a bee keeper and candle maker, they had helped you fulfill your dream, asking around until they had found the perfect little home and plot of land for you to pay off, since you refused their money. They had already given you enough.

"What would you ask for, if you got the mage's heart?" your best friend asked when she visited you one afternoon to pick up the produce from your bees, a jar of honey and two candles you had made for her.

You paused for a long moment, looking outside the window to your flower fields and the approaching heavy rain clouds.

"I'd probably just give it back to him," you answered and at her incredulous look, you couldn't help but shrug. "I'm happy, right now there is nothing I'd ask for."

Happiness wasn't around every day of course. You had weathered many a storm, but largely you were, indeed, quite content with life. You had learned that even if dark times came, you could fight through them until you reached the light again. You could and would do it as many times as necessary.

"I'd probably ask for all the riches I could think of," your friend mused. "I'd love to go to the big city and attend the balls, you know? Dancing with dashing noblemen and women and just..."

She sighed wistfully, adding, "Just imagine it. Glittering jewel chandeliers and all those elegant, courteous people. No one farting at the dinner table or anything like that."

You couldn't help but laugh as you handed over the candles she had asked for. You had carved some delicate flowers along the outside per her request and her eyes lit up when she saw your handiwork.

"Why not marry the mage then? He should be able to give you all that with how sought after and highly regarded his kind are," you asked as she put everything into her basket.

"Mages are dangerous," she answered with a shake of her head. "I won't ever tangle with that. Besides, I heard that mages only appear beautiful at first. The longer you look at them, the stranger they become. I don't know. I don't think I could have a husband that would look less and less human every day."

That was reasonable enough, you supposed, if such things were true.

Your friend frowned a little and sighed, "Not that I'd ever get a chance to find his heart in the first place, if the legend is even true. Old Brenna swears up and down that she saw him once, but then again she also claims to have seen bog bies and little gnomes. Still, wouldn't it be nice to not be stuck here?"

"I quite like it here," you said and cast a glance outside the window. "And if you don't plan to either walk through the rain or stay for dinner you should probably get going."

Your friend leaned forward to peer up at the sky as well and made a face. "Damn, you're right. Alright, I'll see you again tomorrow?"

"You're welcome anytime," you reassured her and she left with a fond smile, telling you to drop by for dinner at her place sometime soon.

A minute after she left the first drop hit your window, followed by many more. You took a moment to stand there and close your eyes, listening to the pitter patter of rain coming down on your cozy little home. What a lovely sound.

You cleaned up around the house for a bit, listening to the calming, steady fall of rain, before you peered out the window again. It was getting late enough that you should lock the chickens in their coop so they'd be safe during the night.

Grabbing your wool cloak to stay safe from the rain and getting barefoot into your boots since you couldn't be bothered to put on socks, you stepped outside. The smell of rain and warm earth welcomed you as you walked down the small path to the coop, lightly hopping from one broad, flat stone to the next.

You hummed to yourself and before you knew it, you were singing the mage's song as you checked if the chickens were already safely inside their coop.

For all the joy, all the joy it brought to me

My heart longs, oh it longs to be set free

All's fair in love and war they say

But when your words, oh your sweet words wither and decay

My heart drowned, oh it drowned in sorrow's flood

So set me free, set me free so I can choose to land

In someone's kind and gentle hand

You weren't too worried about summoning the mage with just his song, considering the plethora of things one had to do on top of that – if he indeed existed. You doubted he'd even hear you singing in the rain in the first place.

If you were being honest, you quite liked the song, depending on your mood, you could sing it quickly and cheerfully or slowly and with melancholy. Today you sang it light and sweet with an undertone of joy, fitting to the good mood the gentle rain had brought as you locked in your chickens.

It took you a moment to notice the steady, muffled sound of footsteps and when you turned around, curious and surprised, you stilled, the song dying on your lips.

You knew it was the mage with just a glance. He stood tall and with elegant poise, his long, flowing robes were black as night and raven-dark embroidery shimmered on it in the dim, evening light falling through thick clouds.

His missing heart was easy to see, a ring of light glowing softly on his chest, reminding you of the solar eclipse you had seen once.

His long, pale hair fell down his back like a wave of shimmering silver and his lashes were dark and thick, his eyes a soft lavender. His eyes were the only bits of true color on him.

Even the jewelry he was decked in was pale. The delicate silver crown with it's glittering gems, the earrings on his pointy ears, the rings on his elegant fingers and the necklace around his throat, they all looked like they were woven out of starlight and white gold.

"Good evening," the mage said and your friend had been right about one thing, the longer you looked at him, the less human he appeared.

His lavender eyes held a shine that was deeper and stranger than even the oldest woods, his nails seemed just a tad too hard and long, hinting at claws, his hair too shimmering and silver and his clothes were made of no fabric you had ever seen before.

He seemed utterly out of place, standing among the flower fields that surrounded this side of your home, rain gently drumming down.

"I had not expected to hear my song tonight," he said, soft spoken and polite, but you weren't fooled. Mages were dangerous and you had been raised with a good head on your shoulders. "Especially without any of the usual provisions. Are you to make a bid for my heart?"

"Oh, my apologies," you hurried to say, nervously gripping your woolen cloak as you peered at him past the rim of your hood. "I merely like your song, I had not intended to call upon you. I honestly thought it wouldn't work without all the other demands being fulfilled."

His head tipped slightly, the fine, delicate chain on one ear glittering with the movement. "I see. Now that I did appear anyway, do you intend to make a bid for my heart?"

You wondered if it was painful for him, to wander around without one. If he was caught in a perpetual search for the next person who could gain it and trade it back for a wish. If maybe, between being summoned by songs, he was hunting for his heart himself.

"No," you answered honestly. You personally did not much enjoy lying in the first place, it only caused problems sooner or later. "I have no desire for your heart."

He blinked once and there was a pause, as though he was carefully choosing his words. "And what about a wish?"

You couldn't help but gesture all around you. "I like my life, I like this place and my work here and those I love are happy and healthy enough." Could wishes even make people truly happy? Or were they tricks, like fae deals? "There is little I want and the things I do desire I intend to get on my own."

He seemed surprised at your answer and then he was smiling and everything about him seemed just a tad brighter, from the glow on his chest to the glittering jewelry and the silver shine of his hair.

"A fair answer from a fair heart, I am glad to hear as much," he said, a touch of real warmth entering his voice. "My apologies for disturbing you then. Have a good evening."

He offered a polite little bow and was about to move on when you realized that he was getting more drenched with every moment. And while he was a mage, you did feel a bit bad that you had summoned him into this weather unintentionally.

"Would you like to come in?" you asked and he paused, glancing at you. "At least until the bad weather is over. I've been told I make pretty good food, too."

He blinked and water trailed over his crow, dripping off at the edges and he inclined his head in agreement, appearing somewhat curios.

You led the way back to your little home and held the door open for him. Toeing off your shoes and as he stepped inside, you fetched a linen towel for him and handed him the slippers you kept around for when you had visitors with bigger feet.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he said and you felt the brief shiver of magic in the air that dried him entirely as he refused the towel with a rather kind smile.

You left him to look around your open living room and kitchen as you started to boil water for a pot of tea. He was quite respectful of your space, glancing at some paintings you kept around and your little knickknacks on display.

He did pause when he saw your work, the candles you had finished today, some already packaged to be sent out tomorrow. The temple had a regular order that you fulfilled and they were due another delivery.

"You are quite skilled," he said and gestured at the candles you had carved and painted for market day. "May I?"

"Go ahead," you told him, digging out the fancy tea your mother had gifted you as a house warming gift.

By the time the tea was done, the mage had selected a few candles and upon inquiring for their prices, paid for them.

"May I put in an order?" he asked. "Some of my spellwork requires candles. Would you be willing to make enchanted ones as well, so long as I bring you the necessary components?"

"Can I even enchant candles? I'm about as ordinary as they come," you answered and the mage's face lit up.

To your surprise, the ensuing conversation and discussion about magic and magical properties that some things inherently possessed and how ordinary people could use them as well, was quite fun and interesting.

Before you knew it, you had served dinner and the mage had complimented you for the good food and you kept talking as the rain kept falling outside, moving into your living room to get comfortable on the two seats you had placed near the small fireplace.

You genuinely had so much fun you even managed to make the mage laugh, the jewelry on his ears tinkling softly as he was gripped by mirth. You were sad to see him go when the thrum of rain stopped at last.

"Feel free to visit whenever you want," you said with a smile as you accompanied him to the door. "I'm here most days and it can get quite lonely." You loved your friends and family, but they had their own lives and their own responsibilities and relationships to care for. You didn't get to see them as often as you'd like.

"I understand that all too well," the mage said with a little smile, melancholic and soft, that told you he indeed knew what it was like. "I will take you up on that offer. Ah, may I tell my friends and acquaintances about you as well? They have been looking for a good candle supplier for some time."

"Oh, of course, though, maybe give me some time to figure out how to create enchanted candles," you answered and he obligingly bowed his head a little.

As he left, he did so with a last smile, his jewelry shimmering as though freshly polished and his hair as fine as spun silver coated in starlight. He was gone just like that, melting into the dark of night as though he had become one with it.

Closing the door you went and cleaned up and finished packing away the candles for the next day. As you went to bed, you couldn't help but think that he didn't seem to be in pain, at the very least.

Still, you couldn't imagine that being heartless was very pleasant.

*.*.*

Would you like to read more? Then head over to my patreon and check out my stories there or give the masterpost a look!

Thank you all so much for your support, it makes it an absolute joy to keep writing stories!

#my writing #preview #magic #love #the special care and handling of hearts #hope you'll like it!#short story #spilled ink

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