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minhosimthings · 10 months ago

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Gilded Skin || 18+

Synopsis: A makeout session with your tattoo artist neighbour

Pairings: tattoo artist!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, Dom!Jay, sub!reader, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, manhandling because idk I love Jay's hands, kinda pervert Jay, unprotected sex (not for you), swearing, use of "sweetheart"

A/N: for you my beloved @jaeyunluvr. Also possibly my last work for in a while since I'm getting kinda busy!

Tattoos.

Controversial (to some people) as they were, you loved them.

The mere thought of getting a tattoo scared you though, yes they were pretty, but number one, money and number two, needles. But soon enough, your friend, Heeseung, who was ironically a tattoo artist himself convinced you to pay a visit to the tattoo parlour.

Normally you would have refused, stating the usual excuse of 'I'm busy maybe next time?'. But lo and behold to Heeseung's ears you agreed this time.

"It's because of that hot guy there isn't it?" Heeseung snickered, his hands on the steering wheel as he drove you to the parlour.

'That hot guy' aka your new neighbour, aka the tattoo artist at the new tattoo parlour that had opened up down the street.

Even though it had been just a two minute walk's distance from you, Heeseung insisted on coming to the parlour with you. Although his actual motives were to see you absolutely melt infront of the man you had a cunt-destroying crush on, he kept on with the absolute lie that he was trying to be a supportive friend, and also obseve the artists at the parlor.

"He has a name you know." You rolled your eyes as Heeseung parked his car into the alleyway, "It's Jay or something."

"So we can no longer call him 'hot guy'?" Heeseung asked, seemingly amused by the way you were fiddling with your fingers, "Shame, I liked that nickname. What do you like about him anyway?"

What did you like about him. What answer could you have possibly given to that? Of course there were so many factors. The fact that he was your new neighbour but you still hadn't talked to him, the fact that he fed the street cats, the fact that he-

"His hands."

Heeseung's reaction was... appropriate to say the least. His choking on air made you roll your eyes, as you slapped his back to make him calm down. Then after a few moments of silence, he burst out laughing.

"His WHAT?" Heeseung held his stomach as raucous laughs escaped his lips, "Please don't tell me you're being serious right now." He doubled over again, almost hitting his head to the car's ceiling.

"Oh shut up, you're talking as if you're any better." You rolled your eyes, opening the car door, with Heeseung doing the same, "Remember last September when you-"

"Do not even start right now." Heeseung glared, slamming his car door shut, "Come on, don't want to keep the hands waiting do we?"

Taking a deep breath and letting it out rather too quickly, you pushed on the neon pink decorated door, which opened with a tinkling sound. The smell of lavender hung around, an unfamiliar scent for a tattoo store, which was covered in rock posters from head to toe, along with a few blue beads here and there, the kind Heeseung liked to collect.

"Hey." You greeted the red haired girl behind the counter, "I have an appointment under the name Y/N."

The girl looked up and sent you a quick smile before looking down at her computer, her eyes whipping around before finding a spot she thought was satisfactory.

"Yep right here." She popped her lips together, "I'll see if anyone is free Ma'am, could you wait for a minute?"

You smiled at her as if to say yes and plopped down on the couch next to Heeseung, who had been analysing the store with a lot of vigour in his eyes.

"It's fancy." He whispered, eyeing the girl at the counter, "Let's just hope your man comes out and you can get to catcall him before he goes."

"I am not going to catcall him, im not you." You chuckled, getting distracted from the conversation when you saw a black haired figure from the corner of your eye.

"Is that-?" Heeseung didn't even have to finish his sentence. He knew, judging from the look in your eyes and the fact that your mouth fell slightly open, that this was the person he ever so passionately called "your man".

You were mesmerised.

No, mesmerised wasn't the right word.

You were starstruck.

Maybe your hormones were on a whole different level, maybe you had just been dick-deprived for a long time, or maybe it was the lavender fumes, but you truly thought you had seen a Greek God fill the vision of your corneas.

"Y/N. Y/N!"

You felt Heeseung's elbow jab you painfully in the side, which was effective in breaking you out of your stupor. You blinked a couple of times, to see the red haired woman and Jay looking at you in what seemed to be amusement.

The woman coughed to defuse the seeming tention, you swore you could feel Heeseung awkwardly smiling for your left.

Well they always say bad beginnings have good endings don't they?

"So," A steady hand carefully polished the silver of the miniscule needle, "Y/N was it?"

Though the air conditioning was turned onto a high, you could feel sweat drops form at your forehead, why were his hands polishing the needle so erotically?

"Y-Yeah. You're Jay right?" You managed to cough out, feeling yourself immediately melt into the chair leather chain again when his eyes fell on you. His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, seemingly darting around to catch it's prey, but never leaving one point of focus.

"Nervous?" Jay chuckled, "Don't be, unless you're chronically afraid of needles."

"I am." You laughed, leaning back a little more comfortably on the chair, "Probably shouldn't have gotten a tattoo then should I?"

"Perhaps not on your most sensitive area." Jay nodded, sitting in front of you, his legs spread wide open, did he realise how welcoming that was to you?, "Most people go for the arm, I'm surprised you went for your thigh."

"Heeseung told me it doesn't hurt much." You braced yourself in the chair at the sight of Jay's needle pressing into his tattoo machine, "He's a tattoo artist too."

"I should make a friend of him then." Jay chuckled, looking into your eyes, he could bore deepwells in them and you thought you'd forgive such a handsome man like him, "How did you meet him?"

"Are you-" you gave him a funny look, "Are you trying to make conversation with me?"

"It helps most of them." Jay shrugged and smiled at you, you noticed his dimple come off his cheek, the one you saw last week, whilst spying on him from your bedroom window.

"So, new neighbour who I've never talked to until now," Jay raised his eyes up to you, "How about some conversation to lessen the pain?"

You had always known since you were a child that you had the attention span of a butterfly, eyes always zooming from one place to the other, but you never knew all you needed was a handsome face and some pretty hands to get you to focus.

Jay's deep voice soothed into your nerves, effectively proving his theory of "more talk, less pain". You hadn't noticed much of the tattooing process, except for a few instances here and there when his knuckles brushed across the skin of your thigh, making you mold your orgasmic whimpers into 'painful' winces. You could physically hear Heeseung in your brain telling you about your pain kink.

"So any relationship goals?" Jay asked you, your eyes briefly meeting with his, as his fingers stopped to move across the cross section, "I know that's sorta personal, don't answer if you don't want to."

"No it's fine." You laughed, pretending as if you didn't maniacally want to answer the question, "I'm still single for now, and as for goals, I'm free for ramen tomorrow, and that's it."

"So how about ramen tomorrow then?" Jay smiled, looking up at you, his hands coming to a halt and resting softly on your thigh.

"Will we be eating or will we be talking like this?" You chuckled, your brain fog capturing you entirely as you had no idea what words were coming out of your mouth, "Because to be honest, I'd just be staring at either your lips or your hands if we do either of them."

The most painful part of getting a tattoo, according to the internet, was the beginning part, when you'd be so scared, because apparently fear paralyses you more than the actual tattoo process. But you now knew, the most painful part would probably be Jay's amused eyes staring at you, while your brain managed to catch up with what you just said.

"Oh- no! No I'm so sorry—i didn't mean-"

"It's fine sweetheart." Jay's soft voice stopped your panicking, he stifled a chuckle at your behaviour. Adorable, he thought.

"No I'm really sorry Jay, I shouldn't have said that." You apologised again, feeling the heat come upto your cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart." Jay chuckled, leaning in towards you, "Do you really think I had no idea of your pretty little face spying on me through your window?"

He knew?

"I must admit, you look cute in that flimsy tank top, which hides nothing by the way." His deep voice rang through your eardrums, "but don't worry, I won't press charges or anything on you for spying."

Your back pressed against the leather of the leaning chair, as Jay put his tattoo machine down. Taking off his gloves, his tongue swept across his lips in a swift motion, as his hands trapped you in a cage, laying on either side of you.

"May I?" Jay asked, not even waiting for permission, he already knew the next thing to come out of your mouth was a pathetic whimper.

Without a moment's waste, his soft lips landed on yours, hands rubbing to take off your shorts.

You soon became lost in his presence, lips meeting his in a fiery kiss. his tongue pushed past, kissing you like his life depended on it.

"Fuck sweetheart." Jay said, "You taste good."

You moaned quietly into his mouth, feeling his fingers trail down and start to rub your clit. Your hand came down to grab his cock, already half hard, and you could feel him growing with each stroke you gave him.

His fingers slipped past your clit, toying with your opening and eventually plunging in as deep as he could with the angle he was at. Your head fell back, resting on the leather of the chair as your pussy fluttered around his fingers.

“fuck, you're so tight.,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, chuckling as you let out a stifled whimper, "You like that baby? You like my fingers hm?"

He began to set a fast pace, one of his hands gripping your hip to keep you in place for him and the other hand next to your head. you could see the veins in his arms as it flexed beside you, no doubt he was trying to hold back.

Small whimpers came out of your mouth with each thrust, but then you heard it. Footsteps outside the room, you had forgotten you were in a public place in the heat of the moment. The footsteps died down after a few seconds.

“Just gonna have to keep those pretty sounds in. Wouldn’t want them to hear you,” You clenched down at that.

He chuckled, a devilish, almost cruel sounding chuckle like he had something in mind.

“oh you like that, huh? Like the idea of someone walking in on us fucking in here, watching us. Watching you come apart on my fingers. You’d like that, wouldn’t you baby? Dirty fucking slut.”

At that moment, he made it his mission to make you cum, hard. keeping one hand clamped around your mouth to stifle your moans, your eyes practically rolled back into your head when his fingers touched a particularly sensitive position, the new position making his fingers fuck impossibly deeper into you.

As you were nearing release Jay pulled away standing up, quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you.

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance

He held the base of his cock, dragging the tip in between your wet folds, before slowly pushing himself into you, causing a groan to escape from the back of his throat.

His hands grabbing onto your hips, he began to slowly move his hips watching your pussy swallow his cock.

“You feel so fucking good” he said as he began to pick up the pace. Your hand moved up to your mouth blocking out the moans leaving your lips, doing your very best to stay quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear your lewd sounds.

Jay's thrusts became rough, his hand releasing your hip entangling his fingers through your hair tugging on it as he pounded into you. “You’re such a good girl, taking me so well”.

“fuck…you’re so tight” he says, pulling your legs up to sit on his shoulders as he thrusts inside you at a steady motion, fucking you deliciously in missionary. His eyes stare at your tits that are bouncing with each motion he pulls you in.

“fuck baby..i’m gonna cum…gonna cum inside” he says as he gets that dumb look on his face, he squeezes your breast with white knuckles as something to hold on to while his eyes roll back in his head, a beam of his sweat falling on your chest.

your orgasm comes as his does, his dick twitching inside of your cunt making it almost impossible to keep going.

“m’gonna cum too…” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing him further into you to feel his cum covering your walls. the warm liquid coming fast inside you.

as Jay pulls out, he’s met with his mess, the pool of his cum leaking out of your cunt.

His fingers make their way down and pump inside of you, the squelching noise of your wet pussy filling the room. His fingers make their way out of your cunt and up to your mouth, pushing in his cum covered fingers inside your mouth.

“Suck sweetheart.” he demands, and so you do. You suck the mixture of cum off of his fingers while maintaining eye contact, his thumb cradling your chin for support. You could get intoxicated on those eyes for centuries.

Jay's thumb swept out of your mouth swiftly, as his lips landed on yours again, pressing you into a sweet and chaste kiss, breathing heavily as he pulled away and supported your tired structure with his strong arms. You could see the veins flex on his hands.

"So how about that ramen date tomorrow hm?" Jay asked, his dimple once again appearing on his cheek, "that is, if you can handle staring at my hands while I eat."

"A ramen date, if I can walk by tomorrow." You chuckled, "So, I guess this messy hair is because I was struggling too much out of pain while getting the tattoo? Or should I tell Heeseung something else?"

"Tell him how good of an artist I am." Jay chuckled, "And that his friend won't have to spy through bedroom windows anymore."

"Was I really that noticeable?" You rolled your eyes playfully, as Jay handed you your shorts.

"Sweetheart you have no idea."

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lovesickeros · 2 years ago

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☆ even the gods bleed

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k

What was justice?

Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.

She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.

How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?

She does not know.

Perhaps she may never know.

What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.

It is a mockery of it.

She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.

The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.

Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.

For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.

Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.

She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.

She understands, now.

She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.

Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.

Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.

But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..

..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.

Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.

Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.

The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.

Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.

What does she have left to lose?

She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.

Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.

Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.

Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.

Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.

..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.

Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.

Probably.

Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.

Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.

Then again, neither was treason.

Well, first time for everything, right?

It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.

..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.

She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.

But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.

..How was she going to prove it?

An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.

And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!

After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.

The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.

She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.

"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.

She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.

"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.

"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"

She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.

"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"

Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.

To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.

Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.

She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.

The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.

"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."

She does not hesitate to agree.

"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"

He doesn't deign to respond.

It only makes her fume more.

Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.

"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.

She suddenly felt out of place.

..What was she supposed to be doing?

As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..

"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."

Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.

Neuvillette, for his part..

Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.

He cannot hear the rain, anymore.

..It must have stopped.

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #imposter au #focalors #furina #neuvillete #a family can be a dragon an archon and his 300 other children who reverse adopted him #u date him its a package deal sorry #u now have like 300 children g-dspeed #also tagged spoilers on neuvi's part bc its kinda a spoiler??? sort of #also this can be read as platonic or romantic on neuvi's part #can u tell i like focalors btw :)#also gonna be swapping between focalors/furina bc SOMEONE sent me a theory and it sent me spiraling im gonna be ill #u know who u r and ur days r numbered #can be read as romantic between reader & neuvi but only bc i know focalors rubs it in his face she found the actual creator first #anyway can u tell focalors is my fav pt2 i wont shut up abt her its terminal atp #focalors..................#anyway *doesnt post fr months. randomly drops a 2k word fic. leaves and doesnt elaborate*#starts out v serious ends v silly #wrote this in one sitting im gonna go pass out now gn

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thesweetestofdreams · 1 month ago

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Collapsed - 2

Steve Harrington apocalypse au 1.9k (here's part 1, part 3)

warnings: blood, nightmares, light descriptions of wounds but nothing too gory

A light tap at your shoulder had you bolting upright. It was like plunging into ice water waking that quickly, nothing like the slow mornings you used to know. The sudden movement pulled at the wound on your side, spreading a searing pain that caught your breath and contorted your face in the dark.

"Sorry, y/n I didn't mean to scare you," it was Robin, "though I guess these days it's hard not to." Definitely Robin. "It's your turn." She said it like an apology.

"It's alright," you croaked in her general direction. "How's your ankle?" Robin had taken first watch, not ready to brave the latter on a twisted ankle. Now that she was up here in the hayloft she must have found the courage. You'd hardly made it yourself.

"It's getting better, thanks for taking my spot on the run today." Robin shuffled making her way to her spot beside Steve.

You sank to the ground in the doorway of the barely standing barn. There were holes in the roof, and it sagged in other spots, but it was safer than any part of the city. It was a fortress of rotting wood and now it was your turn to keep watch over it all. Hands shaking you pulled a needle and thread from your jacket pockets. With a lighter in hand, you passed the needle through the flame.

You listened closely for the sound of steady breathing from the hay loft, making sure no one was stirring. Your breath shuddered as you exposed the wound. The makeshift bandage stuck with dried blood. Though your eyes were still adjusting to the dark, a full moon shone in the sky gilding every edge with silver light. It was enough to see without risking a fire. Gritting your teeth you did what had to be done.

By the time it was over your head was swimming. Your fingers were so cold, and they shook so hard it was a wonder you could even hold the needle. The wound was closed that's all that mattered. You pressed the other side of the t-shirt bandage down over it, breath hissing in pain.

"You wouldn't happen to be hiding a drink, would you?"

You jumped so hard at the sound you knocked into the barn door frame. It gave a loud creak through the rest of the building.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," you bit out. Steve was now towering over you still huddled on the ground. You pulled your shirt down far past your handiwork, hoping it was too dark for him to see.

"Mmm." Steve sat next to you on the ground. You shuffled a few inches away. "I was really hoping for a drink," he said throwing his legs out in front of him.

"Yeah, cause a drunk watchman is exactly what we need."

"There's no need to be such a priss about it," he said. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one unaffected by the whole world going to shit. It certainly hadn't made him any kinder.

You tucked your supplies back into your pockets as he watched the sky, his profile gilded in that same silver light of the moon. You could see how once you would have thought he was handsome.

"What are you doing down here anyways?"

"It felt like my turn." He shrugged.

Your eyes narrowed at him it hadn't been near long enough. "I would've came and got you if I was tired."

"You're not?" he questioned cocking his head to one side. "You sure seemed that way."

Silence was all that sat between you, until finally you moved to stand. Your head still spun, and you caught onto the door frame to catch your breath. You saw Steve open his mouth like he was going to say something, but he quickly changed his mind. You did your best to walk as normal as possible. "Night pretty boy," you threw over your shoulder.

-------

"You have to keep your arms up Robin," Steve said exhasperated. "If you're not punching you're blocking." He looked at her expectantly. She gave him a wide eyed nod. He saw the shift in her feet as she lunged forward. He swiped her fist away as quick as it came. Robin huffed stepping back. He could see she still favored her right ankle.

"Are you sure you're the best one to teach people how to fight?" Jonathan teased. He was pouring over a book of maps Nancy had found.

"Very funny," Steve sneered. In all honesty he'd thought the same thing, but Robin had to learn. He had to know she wasn't completely defenseless.

"It's useless Steve. Fight or flight, I'll always pick flight." Robin pulled out her barely holding ponytail.

"You won't always be able to run," Steve said with a huff. He lowered himself to the ground. The grass was cold with morning dew, and the sun cast gold through the trees. In any other world it would be beautiful, but it just unsettled him, like there were shadows hiding and he just couldn't see them.

Robbin plopped down next to him. She pulled out another ponytail and started pulling tufts of short hair into two small braids. Steve elbowed her lightly in the ribs making her elbow duck dangerously close to his nose.

"You're smart. If there's a way to get out then take it. Otherwise, you have to find any way to get the upper hand. Eyes, throat, and nose. Go for those first."

"Or between the legs." Steve craned his neck to see you walking towards the simmering pot of oatmeal sludge. Robin reached up to touch your hand as you passed, he saw you give it a small squeeze.

"Get enough beauty sleep, princess?" It had more of an edge to it than he meant to. There was something about you that just irked him.

You snorted, pouring a mountain of brown sugar into the oatmeal. Robin was on you before the sugar could even melt.

"Did you find that yesterday?" Robin said it like you'd found gold.

You gave her a small nod.

Robin beamed, "Lucky we sent you yesterday. I would've never thought to get that." She sent Steve a look over her shoulder that said he should act greatful, but all he saw was competition.

"Here," you held two mugs overflowing with steam, "get your share." You gave one to Robin. Steve groaned, standing. "Get your own Harrington." You cradled your mug turning yourself away from him. He could have sworn he saw something other than disdain in your face. Something was definitely off but he just couldn't tell what. Maybe it was just the light but he swore you looked paler.

Jonathan now had a large map sprawled on the ground. Nancy nearly trampled it as she passed. "Nance," Jonathan called out, shooing her from his map.

"Sorry," she offered hardly paying attention. She had a small notepad topped with a messy stack of papers in her arms.

"Y/n found sugar," Robin said around a full mouth.

"That's great." Nancy looked at her papers. "None of you happen to have a first aid kit would you?"

Steve shook his head, he saw you stiffen and quickly settle back down as Nancy began scribbling on her papers. "Guess we'll need at least one of those then," she said, mostly to herself.

"Are we leaving?" you asked, looking from Nancy to Robin to Jonathan, not to him.

"Guess you missed a few things while you slept in, cupcake." Steve said precisely because you weren't looking at him.

"Yes. We can't keep roughing it like this, not if we want to make it to Hawkins and not freeze to death." Nancy said, her look of determination firmly settled into her features. There was no negotiating now.

"I hope sleeping bags are on that list. Robin's teeth chattering isn't really the best lullaby." Steve gave her a lopsided smile, tipping the ends of his hair over his eyes. His smile fell when she clobbered him in the shoulder. His smile quickly resurfaced. "So you did learn something."

"We're leaving at first light tomorrow." Nancy paced around a makeshift table made from rotten boards. She bit the end of her pencil and Steve saw the lines forming between her brow. She was worried. He had to admit in the deepest parts of himself, he was too, but he'd be damned to let anyone find out.

Steve's eyes slid from Nancy to where you sat. You're steaming mug was forgotten in your hands. You looked out, past Nancy, past the tree line. He turned around, walking the other way, towards the barn. He couldn't do it. He couldn't afford to worry about you.

---

You sat up with a start. The wood beneath you creaked. The hayloft was never the most stable of structures but it kept you off the ground. It kept you safe. It was the one place where you could let your eyes shut without jerking them back open. And now you were supposed to leave. You all were.

The usual chorus of snoring and even breathing was absent this morning. You overslept again it would seem. The persistent ache at your side was lessening. It felt more like a bruise than a deep cut. It didn't even hurt as you lowered yourself down the ladder.

The end of the world could be so quiet. The birds hardly sang anymore. The golden morning was still. Too still. As you made your way outside there was no steam wafting into the air. The only proof of your camp was a bed of dead embers and cold forgotten coals.

They left. They finally left you behind.

You fell to your knees, the wet grass reaching up to catch you. It was all that was left. You were all that was left.

A stabbing pain caught your breath. You looked down to your side, the dull ache had given way to a burning fire. Blood seeped onto the ground. Suddenly you weren't outside anymore. You were in your living room kneeling on the floor as the blood pooled around you.

No light fell through the windows. Dust fluttered through the air, drifting down to the wet floor. They were gone, you lost them. You couldn't save them. You fell further onto the floor and you kept falling.

You gasped as you woke for the second time. For real this time. The light of the morning stung your eyes and your wound returned to the dull, biting ache, it had been.

You sat in a heap on the hayloft, not ready to go down. You couldn't risk it yet.

"Sweet dreams?" Steve sat at the other end of the hayloft. He was carving a block of wood with his pocket knife. You heard the soft clatter of shavings falling to the floor.

You looked away not trusting your voice just yet.

"Did something happen in the grocery store?"

Your eyes went wide until you recovered closing them and pinching the bridge of your nose. You couldn't let them know. They were leaving. They would leave you if they knew.

"I slipped on some cans," you lied, tugging on the ends of your hair. "Wicked bruise, but I'll be fine." The best lies were wrapped in truth, there was bruising around the stitches. You just hoped you were convincing enough.

Steve nodded slowly. He didn't look at you, just kept carving. "Jonathan has tylenol," he offered. After a moment of silence, he made his way to the latter.

"We're leaving with or without you two," Nancy yelled from the barn door. Steve smiled in a way that told you she wouldn't actually leave without you, or at least without him.

Steve clicked his knife shut. "After you sunshine."

---

Thanks so much for the kind response to this story. I plan to really up the ante and develop their relationship and the world a lot, so stick around for that. Drink some water, get enough sleep, and I'll see you next time <3

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington au #stranger things au #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things fic

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aster-daydream404 · 11 months ago

Text

Sipping Tea Under the Wisteria Blooms

Materials:

(Homemade) Air dry clay

Needles

Carboard

A4 bond paper

White acrylic paint

Gold acrylic paint

Violet poster paint

Blue poster paint

Clear nail polish

Dollar store wisteria flowers

Lavender gina cloth

lilac colored paper

A lovely three seated teaset based on the Purple Bloom Teaset from days of bloom— most commonly known as the Wisteria Teaset. It is complete with a dainty set of three tea cups, a gilded sugar bowl and creamer jug, a lovely tea pot with wisteria petals painted on it, and a tower of golden tea cakes for skykids to enjoy! The white gilded chairs are toped with soft plush lavender pillows, and the table (of similar design is lined with a gilded lavander tablecloth whose design resembles the petals of a wisteria flowers. This tea set is perfect for skykids to relax and idly chat in while the wisterias bloom.

I made this entire teaset for the SoraSky discord server’s Art Prop-ject contest. And although I wasn’t able to join due to forgetting to put in my description and submitting late (EUGHH THE CENTERPIECE KEPT ON FALLING APART ON ME!!!) I am still incredibly proud of how this project turned out 🥹🥹🥹 I wanted to make the purple bloom tea-set because it was a prop that I’ve been wanting since I was still a moth on sky. It was a memorable time for me, especially when me and my friends would chat under the wisteria tree in Forest’s social space🪻✨ This tea-set was made of love, struggle, sleep deprivation, and lots of planning. It was via this project that i was also able to appreciate the little details and intricacies that sky’s purple bloom tea-set has, giving me a deeper appreciation for the item and the artists behind it 🥺 So despite feeling a bit salty of how it ended, i hope this piece brings happiness to those who see it, just like how we feel when anticipating spring ☺️ 😉 🏞️ 🌱🕊️✨ [insert moomin reference ahsjshjahaha]

#sky: children of the light #sky: cotl #skykid #that sky game #sky children of the light #sky cotl #sky cotl days of bloom #days of bloom #spring time #wisteria #wisteria bloom tea set #purple bloom teaset #DoB purple bloom tea set #sky cotl DoB purple bloom tea set #my art #aster’s art #springdove #teehee #sky cotl fanart

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dhampling · 1 year ago

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sunburn dadstarion, <1k

She runs in with cheeks flushed, head wet with a thin clad layer of sweat. Remnants from some form of cool treat dry on her chin. Plaits - neat this morning - loose now with tangles and damp as she beelines straight for his workroom.

Face scalding as she buries it in his abdomen.

“You’re getting muck on my shirt, little one.”

She mimics his words with a cutting tone as she burrows deeper, wraps even tighter around him. Smells like cloves and hot paving and the dry-sweet musk of city dust. As he presses a kiss to her head he feels the sun lingering in her hair. Little white cowlicks brushing his nose.

If he stills he can hear you out on one of the cast-iron chairs with a glass of red in hand, talking to a friend of some parental variety in the early evening heat.

“You’re so cold”

His heat comes from woodsmoke and yours from the sun. Both familiar to her. He could light a fire but you’d moan at him for it.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

He pokes at her clammy arms with a fat laugh and she winces away, pulling a face.

“It’s hot.” She sneers. He quirks a brow.

“Sounds like a you problem.’

He lifts the last of her plaits and looks round at the ruddy blush beginning to bloom at the nape of her neck. She squirms at the ice of his fingers.

‘Run up to the washroom and get the cream. Quick.”

You sit just beyond the window - he can hear your laughter, the muffled lilt of your voice by the climbing ivy. He imagines the ornate carafe - left to aerate all afternoon - rich and ripe as the wine within soaks on your tongue and darkens your teeth. Your loving grin. The little wave you’d do; the light clothes he’d spent all winter designing for you to sit out front and feel comfortable in, in spite of the sweltering sun.

To throw a casual look through open shutters and see you out there again. A wink. A little sign that he’s thinking of you.

Maybe he’ll head out, when the stars are newly minted yet the sun still lingers. Feel the iron sear his skin through his clothes. The warmth of your palm as it wraps around his forearm.

It’s not until the youngling returns that his gaze shifts from the dark to her, a tired furrow on her brow.

“I’m too hot.”

Her mouth hangs open in a wide pant. Astarion kneels before her.

“Have you had any water?’

No.

‘Right then.”

Hours pass and you shuffle back in with a thick-knotted shawl draped lazy over your shoulders, the singe of a giggle still whisper-light in your breath as your friend shouts their farewells.

“She burned today, you know.”

He’s quiet as he stitches, merely an observation; thread between teeth. You sigh fondly in the doorway.

“She’s a child. It’s what children do.”

You bring your warm chalice to his mouth and he lifts his head to take a sip, humming softly. He looks up at you with a raised brow.

“Get burned?”

“You morose bastard. Sun-burn. Children get sunburned.”

She’s lounging on his worn chaise, hair wrapped in towel, with a small bowl of plums at her side and a drawing pad atop her knee. Contented in new pyjamas and the cool dim of her father’s workroom.

The cream has seemingly worked. The cool bath you heard her splash about in not so long ago must’ve been some clever placebo work.

“Found some pretty beetles today, but wasn’t allowed to bring them in.” She speaks as usual with Astarion’s theatrical whine, riddled with fatigue. You roll your eyes affectionately.

“What were they like, darling?”

He’s preoccupied, stitching something small in the gilded embroidery he works at; but there’s the persistent glimmer of interest in his tone. The slightest tilt of his head as his eyes find her in the periphery.

“Really pretty. Different colours. All pinky and greeny.” She waggles her fingers and sighs with a start.

“Draw them for me?”

She looks at him warily as you watch on.

“Will you keep it if I do?”

At that, Astarion stops. A gentle halt. The needle and thread in hand gently tucked into the stitchwork.

“I keep everything you do.”

You scoff. She looks at him with a tiny glare.

“Where is it then?”

“What?”

“All my drawings?”

“It’s where are they, darling.’ He chides, the smallest chit of his fangs.

You move to sit and your daughter lifts her head from the chaise, so it rests on your settled lap when dropped once more. The hint of a grin plays at his mouth.

‘And I keep them somewhere safe so when you’re old - like me - you’ll be able to look back on you now. You’ll be able to remember the beetles.’

He shuffles over to where you both sit, cross legged as he rests his chin on the chaise. Brings the back of a hand to her forehead and swears a sizzle as he pulls away.

‘Plus. I can’t see these beetles now, can I? My sunburn gets a fair bit more serious than yours in nature. I’d like to see them.”

She pauses for a moment.

“Okay. But ONLY because you can’t go and see them for yourself.”

#my writing #dadstarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3

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xyfanficarchive · 2 months ago

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I'm really curious to hear your thought's on this scenario...

How would Jimmy be with a gf that's far more privileged than him? Grew up in the suburbs, wealthy parents, a very stable family life, pretty spoiled.. But still makes sure that he knows that she really loves him.

honestly… one of the most salient points about jimmy’s character is his massive inferiority complex. he would try a relationship, if he thought you were attractive enough. and i’m not saying he’s entirely using you, but he does recognize that getting with you would be a huge benefit for him, cause he’s broke af. i think he does crave real love, and it could be sweet, in his own way, for a little while at least. your affection feels good. he wants it to work.

but eventually, this huge jealousy and resentment would come bubbling up. he’s mad as hell that you had life handed to you on a silver platter, and it’ll come out in snide little remarks, just this bitter undertone to his interactions with you. much like his relationship with curly. and i get the sense that like, he’s a guy who’s trying so fucking hard to prove himself to everyone around him and has a hard time believing that people who care about him don’t see him as lowly as he sees himself. so that resentment and paranoia are gonna make a toxic chemical reaction where even though you show him how much you genuinely love him, he’s gonna have a harder and harder time believing it. because like, why would you? your life was gilded growing up and he came from nothing, and he has an unsavoury past, and everyone in your life thinks youre too good for him. so there must be some ulterior motive to you being with him, like making yourself feel better and look better by comparison next to him and he’s gonna needle you about it and make all sorts of shitty assumptions about you and you’ll be hurt because, what the fuck, Jimmy? yah nobody needs to have someone lower than them to feel good about themselves but you and every other traumatized fucked up human being like you. the man needs extensive extensive therapy.

#mouthwashing x reader #jimmy x reader #mouthwashing jimmy x reader #mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy

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echantedtoon · 3 months ago

Text

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch17 Setting Hearts A Blaze P3

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml

@tengensangel @miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

@namis-noodlebox

@k1ttyluverz @akiramente

@rascalraccoon @ravenclawkae1

@gilded-sunrays @crescent-blades

@yukari1k @bloodymarysgirl21

@artbyrebel @abaker74

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

You didn't want to do this. But they asked to see your aunt. If they found out that you didn't ask her then they'll be upset. But if I DO ask her I know she's going to do something embarrassing like take their cups to read their tea leaves or show up in her fortune teller's outfit. Gods. What if she does the same thing she did when she met Gyomei?!

Your body cringed inwards on itself just picturing your aunt feeling Kyojuro's arm and then declaring he'd make a wonderful husband for someone she knew. Your gut feeling BEGGED you to not go through with it, and you had asked your boyfriend's opinion on the matter. He knew what she was like so surely he'd be against the idea too right?

"They requested her presence didn't they? It would be unkind to everyone if you don't at least tell her about the invitation."

Crap. He was right. Sigh. You'd have to go tell her the next time you saw her, which happened to be the very next day. So with a heavy feeling in your stomach, you drove all the way to her house and forced yourself to climb up the steps and enter the house where you found your aunt trying to manhandle giant boxes of Christmas decorations out of the thin entrance to her attic.

"They want to what?"

"They wanted to invite you to dinner." You ducked avoiding the top plastic pine needles of a Christmas tree. "To thank you for helping them out. Um..Do want a hand?"

"I'm not old as dirt yet! I can put up a stupid tree." You only watched her struggle with the big thing until she wobbly placed it hard on the floor with a thud before sighing and stepping back to admire her work. "When is this dinner?"

"Um..I think Kyojuro said it was tomorrow night?"

"NO CAN DO, KIDDO!" She pointed up spinning on her heel and walking over to a big box labeled 'ornaments'. "I'm going to a speed dating event! There's only so much of me to go around!"

You sighed. A wave of relief flooding over you for a long moment. "So.. You'll be busy?"

"Honey, broken hearts and lonely souls are an epidemic in the world. When the world's calling me I must answer!"

"Well you didn't have to say it like a line written out of a story."

She waved you off. "Life is a story. Who's writing the story is whoever you decide to give the pencil to." Her arm then made a come here gesture. "Now come help me decorate the place! The halls won't deck themselves."

Everything seemed to go well enough the next day. Of course being a Saturday you had no work, but you still had the project with Giyuu and Shinobu to do due the last day of November which wasn't too far off. You opted to do it early in the morning so you could just go grocery shopping. So you did what you've been doing every morning. Getting up and ready before leaving to meet up with your friends at their house. Just ended up doing an hour of yoga before leaving to go grocery shopping at the local supermarket. Giyuu offered to drive you back but you declined as pretty much everything was within walking distance, even if it was pretty cold out.

No doubt the first snow wouldn't be too far behind. That's what you thought to yourself as you walked into the thankfully warm grocery store, and grabbed a shopping cart to start pushing it around to start grabbing groceries and things you'd need for dinner tomorrow night, some rice and eel cutlets for unadon. So it really was a surprise for you to just be carting around listening to the generic Christmas music already being played over the loudspeakers and the squeaky wheel of the cart as you pushed it along, stopping every so while to grab milk and eggs and other small things, only to turn the corner into the other aisle and then completely pause.

You blinked before a big smile pressed against your lips at the realization of a familiar face. A man with short ink black hair was standing sideways at the end of the aisle. Shopping basket in one hand while his other ran across canned goods looking at each label for a specific product. Murata didn't see you as you started up towards him.

"Murata!"

"GAH?!" Said man jumped and whirled around as fast as a startled cat but he paused and blinked upon seeing you. "Y/n?!"

You giggled. "Yep! It's me!"

"Don't do that! I could've had a heart attack!"

Despite his frown you giggled again. "Sorry. I haven't seen you in like a month! How have you been?"

"Hmph. I've been fine. Trying to pay for rent and go to classes hasn't been easy to multitask lately is all."

"Oh. I'm so sorry. Your boyfriend ok?"

"Sabito's fine. Like I said, it's just been super busy." Murata paused taking a moment to lean over and look behind you for something. Or really someone. "Is..your boyfriend here too?"

"Gyomei? No. He's helping a friend move some stuff. Why?"

He didn't answer at first. Continuing to look behind you and then behind him as if making sure you both were alone before looking back at you in a dead serious face. "Are you here by yourself?"

"Um.." Your brow rose at him. "Yes? You're being kinda weird, Dude."

"I just wanted to make sure none of...those people were around here." 'Those people'? Who was he talking about? Looking around once more, Murata looked back to your confused face. "Remember when I said I had something important to tell you?" You nodded. You did but he never told you what he wanted to talk about. "I wanted to warn you sooner but you were surrounded by those guys all the time."

"Warn me?" That certainly surprised you. "Warn me about what? And what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the polycule nuts!" You blinked as he groaned. "I'm talking about your boyfriend's boyfriends..and girlfriends!"

"You mean Giyuu and Shinobu?"

"And the rest of them!"

You were surprised. What about your friends warranted Murata wanting to warn you? It confused you to the core. "Why? What's so wrong with them?"

"Um. Everything??" He held up his hands. "When I first saw that guy I thought he looked familiar but I didn't know he was Himejima. If I'd known who it was then I would've told you to not go out with him!"

"Why? What's so wrong with him?"

"How do you not know about their reputation?!" He facepalmed with a loud groan.

"Murata, WHAT are you talking about?"

"People call them the 'Haishira' on campus." He explained looking up from his hands. "And they're pretty notorious for their lifestyle."

"You mean the fact that they're polyamorous?" Your brow rose with a frown. "Murata, there's lots of people in the world that's polyamorous. I'm not being cheated on or anything if that's what you're worried about. I already know about Gyomei having other partners and I'm fine with that-"

"It's not just that!" He cut you off with a look. "It's already super weird, but it's WAY beyond having like an extra boyfriend or girlfriend on the side! I'm worried about you being around them. Especially dangerous people like Shinazugawa and Iguro Obanai. And that Tengen guy!"

Sanemi and Obanai? Why? What was wrong with them? And Tengen? Your questions were answered as Murata continued talking in your silence.

"Both of them have got a bad reputation on campus and for good reason. They're always getting into fights and Sanemi sent a guy to the hospital his first year of Uni just cuz someone hit on his girlfriend! Everyone's scared of them cuz they're loose cannons! Not to mention that Tengen guy is like the biggest womanizer on campus! He's always flirting with people and winking and posing naked for the art classes-"

"Don't... people usually volunteer as nude models for art class all the time so the students can practice drawing anatomy?"

"That doesn't change the fact that they're all super weird to be around! Look! I'm like REALLY worried about you here! And as your friend, I'm begging you to stay away from those guys! They're trouble and there's a reason why people avoid them!"

Haishira? Avoiding them? Well you knew from Gyomei that many people tended to opt out of dating him due to his blindness or after learning about his orientation, but you never heard anything about them all having any kind of 'reputation'. The closest thing to that is when you had encountered Jake a second time at the pub. One of his friends had seemed to recognize Sanemi causing the group of them to flee the scene.

But Sanemi dangerous?

Not to you. He'd been nothing but respectful and passive towards most people outside of his relationships you've seen him interact with. He wasn't rude to anyone that didn't decide to poke him with a stick or decide to be rude or try to cause trouble to someone he seemed to care for. Most of the time around other people he just seemed neutral. Obanai...well you didn't know him too well. You've only spoken to him a handful of times but he didn't seem like someone who would harm someone on a whim either. As for Tengen, he was flirty whenever you spoke to him but that seemed more like his personality than him going around womanizing people.

"They never acted that way when I was around them."

"That's because you're dating their boyfriend! Which is a sentence I never thought I would ever say! *Sigh* Look. I just don't want to see you get hurt again!" His hand found your shoulder and a look of concern came over him. "I'd ask you to break up with him but I don't know if I'm in a position to do that. So instead I'm gonna warn you."

You still stared at him for a long, silent moment before sighing. "Murata, I appreciate your concern and I'm glad I have such a good friend. But I'm happy. Gyomei's not perfect, far from it actually, but for the first time I'm seeing someone who makes me happy and I'm worried about if he's going to ghost me or is secretly married. He makes me happy, and I actually like making friends with them. They're good people despite what rumors or people say. You don't have to worry about me."

Murata slowly sighed again deflating with a nod. "I had a feeling you'd probably say something like that. But...Would you at least please, PLEASE promise me you'll be careful?"

You smiled at him. "I promise but you don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine."

**************************************

You didn't know what to feel for the rest of the day. Running into Murata had left a bad taste in your mouth in your otherwise happy mood. It's not that you believed the rumors that were repeated to you in worry by him. Of course you didn't believe Sanemi was actually dangerous or any of the other ridiculous things Murata warned you about, but there was something bugging you.

Rumors usually didn't start out of no where.

Usually they were started by someone or they were based off something that did happen or sometimes a bit of both. So now which of the three was it? You debated calling Sanemi and asking him yourself but it would've been too awkward to just ask if he'd ever beat up someone and put him in the hospital. So instead you just went home and put your groceries away in some attempt to get your mind off the fact despite it still bugging you. Your day had gone by normally then but you still didn't shake the feeling of curiosity surrounding it all. In fact you nearly forgotten about the time because you were so distracted by it all. The clock showed up five p.m and the dinner was supposed to be at six.

OH CRAP!! YOU WERE GONNA BE LATE!!

It was a rush to shower and throw on a cute sweater before grabbing what you needed and running out of the door and towards the restaurant Kyojuro had insisted on you coming too. Luckily you knew exactly what restaurant it was. It was the new one Mitsuri wanted to go to but couldn't because it had been closed. It was right across from the park and the park wasn't too far away from your house as well.

Of course the afternoon was cold and nearly dark as the days grew shorter this time of year, but you held your purse halfway in your teeth as you yanked your coat over your shoulders and hoped the wind didn't smear your makeup. You were going to be late. You were going to be late. Oh you hoped they weren't going to be mad at you for being late. The trip as the sun set quickly took you along the sidewalks on your usual route to the university only to go straight through the park as some kind of short cut and straight to the streets and buildings on the other side. Where you went to was the first big building that let delicious smelling food waft on the breeze. That should be the one.

With a brisk pace you made towards the older styled building and opened the front door setting off a bell above your head, and a wave of warn air washed over your cold skin. Immediately after you stepped in, someone else was standing right there in front of you with a wide smile.

"Greetings!," he greeted you with a smile on his customer service face and a waiter's suit slapped on his body. "Do you have a reservation, Ma'am?"

"Um." You pushed the hair from your face attempting to smooth it over from the wind blowing it about. "N-No."

"Oh. I'm afraid I can't seat you without a reservation."

"I'm actually meeting someone here. Uh..Rengoku?"

"Rengoku? Hm. Let's see." From his podium thing he looked down at what you assumed was a check book. "Ah, yes. Table fourteen. Of course." With a gesture of his arm he pointed towards the inside massive room of tables. "Please follow me."

You did hoping you didn't look too out of place amongst the fancy furnishings and dressed up people. Until you spotted a familiar face and head of red hair. ...And a very familiar sounding voice.

"Umai!....Umai!....Umai!!"

You heard him before you saw him. Following him to the table in question revealed three identical figures of long red hair. One of which was a young man shoving pieces of wagyu steak pieces into his mouth and yelling out each time he took a bite. Yep. That was definitely Kyojuro alright.

The worker stopped behind Kyojuro whom had his back towards you but gained the attention of his parents. Shinjuro and Ruka if you remembered right from the party. "Excuse me, S-"

"UMAI!!"

Both the worker and yourself jumped back as Kyojuro just whirled around to surprise both of you. His wide grin only instantly widened more and his eyes brightened up when he saw you standing there.

"Y/N!!" Kyojuro announced loudly catching the attention of more tables turning to look towards the loud voice. "You've made it!"

With a blink or two you slowly relaxed back and awkwardly nodded. "Um. Y-Yeah. Sorry I'm late. I got..distracted."

"Nonsense! You arrived just in time!" With a scoot over, he easily moved his plate over and gestured to the place next to him. "Come sit! Join us and have something to eat!"

Taking the opportunity to make this less awkward, you quickly sat down next to Kyojuro and across from his father. The older man sat there with a neutral expression on his face as he watched you sit down in front of him. With a smile you turned to Kyojuro whom smiled widely and softly at you. A little strange but you figured it was out of gratitude for what you and your aunt did for them.

"I'm glad you could make it!," he started with a bright tone, "With your busy schedule I was afraid you wouldn't make it."

You waved him off. "Oh no. I wouldn't miss this! It was really nice of your family to invite me for dinner."

"Indeed! Speaking of which, I don't see your aunt anywhere? Is she running late as well?," he asked looking over your shoulder and around the restaurant in search of anyone else coming towards their table.

"I'm sorry but she couldn't make it since she's working tonight."

"That's a shame." Mrs. Rengoku smiled at you softly. "I was so looking forward to meeting her, but maybe next time. However I'm happy to make your acquaintance again. You're Y/n correct?"

You nodded. "That's me. I'm happy to hear that you're situation has improved!"

"Yes! My husband and I are very grateful! Thank you!" ....Ms. Ruka turned to her husband before lightly bumping her elbow into his arm.

He jolted turning to her. "What?" Ruka motioned her eyes towards you as he stared. "Oh. Right." He sighed before turning to you with a semi frown. "Thank you I suppose but I didn't need any help. It was nothing I couldn't have solved myself.. Eventually."

"There's no need to thank me really!" You held up your hands. "I'm just glad you all are doing better!"

"Well the least we can do is buy you dinner."

"Oh, you don't have to. I can pay for my own food."

You stopped blinking up as Kyojuro placed a hand on yours which he was still holding up. You blinked again looking between him and where he held your hand before he spoke up again.

"I insist. My treat. One meal is the least I can do to pay you back for all the kindness that you shown me."

"You?"

"Uh! M-My family too!," he quickly corrected. "I truly do insist! Please get whatever you'd like and I'll take care of it!"

"Well...I usually don't like taking other people's money like this."

"Then just take it as paying you back for those delicious cookies you've made us and we can call it even!"

You hummed again thinking it over. "Mmm...Ok. But just this once."

He beamed. "OF COURSE!! You won't regret it! Order whatever you'd like!"

"Thank you!" ....You looked down. "Um. Kyojuro." He hummed in question. "You're still holding my hand."

Immediately his eyes shot down and a bright pink color slapped across his upon the realization. "AH!! APOLOGIES!!" He immediately cried out loudly dropping your hand and making his mother giggle, his brother blink, and his father sigh and roll his eyes.

The dinner was nice. Casual even. Nothing really strange about it. You all talked about where everyone worked, what Ms. Ruka did as a calligraphy teacher, how Kyojuro came to work part time at the local shelter, a little bit about Senjuro's studies, and at one point Kyojuro asked how the project with Giyuu and Shinobu was going. Just a casual, normal family conversation...Minus yourself as you weren't a part of the Rengoku Family.

Slowly things came to a close. You did try to one more time pay for the small meal you had ordered but Kyojuro had pushed your card away and slapped down enough money to easily pay for both of your meals plus a tip for the waiter....

It was odd though.

His parents paid for their own and his brother's meals. Wasn't he paying for everyone? You brushed it off in the moment as you all made for the exit and then as you turned to bid them goodnight, Kyojuro turned to you sharply.

"Let me walk you home." You blinked at him. "It's getting dark and I'm sure Gyomei would appreciate that I didn't let his girlfriend walk home alone one dark winter night."

"What about your home? Isn't it in the opposite direction?"

"Haha! I don't live with my parents and my home is much closer to yours than theirs. I'll be fine!"

You were a bit confused with the sudden gesture, but Gyomei and even Giyuu once or twice had walked you home before so Kyojuro walking you home wasn't a bad thing. "Ok. If you're sure."

That's when he offered his arm out to you taking you aback again. Wasn't expecting him to do that. Was it ok to accept? After debating on it for a moment, you accepted his arm and (after thanking his parents for dinner and telling them all good bye-) you both walked back towards the park. It was mostly silent now in the dark with the night sky overhead. The only lights in the park being the stars and street lamps. Eerie. You were kinda glad you accepted Kyojuro's offer after all.

Midway through the park you slowly glanced up at him. He wasn't looking at you and instead continuing to walk and look around with you leading him towards your house....Maybe..HE had answers to your problem?

"Kyojuro?" He snapped to you immediately with a questioning him. It was kinda spooky how fast he reacted. Hesitating you looked away from him. "Can I..ask you something?"

"BUT OF COURSE!!," His loud voice echoed over the park. "Ask away!"

You hesitated again feeling a bit guilty. "Well...N-Not too long ago I ran into someone else who goes to the university." You decided it was best not to throw Murata under the metaphorical bus and keep his name out of it. "And...they told me some stuff about you guys-"

You stopped. Well Kyojuro immediately holted to a stop yanking you back too. The sudden jolt had you blinking, looking at him in instinct only to pause at the way he was staring at you. Still smiling but it looked more...serious.

"I see..", he slowly said after a moment, "What kind of 'stuff' did they tell you?"

"Oh..N-Nothing I actually believe of course." You quickly added holding up your free hand. "It's just some rumors."

"What kind of 'rumors'?"

You winced shrinking up a little bit and looking away again. "Well...T-They said that...Sanemi and Obanai were dangerous- Again I don't believe that! And t-t-that Te-Tengen was a...playboy I guess- Again I don't believe any of it!" You again looked at him nervously. "I-It's just something that someone else told me and I-I thought you guys should know about it is all!"

.... Kyojuro blinked. "Oh. Is that all?" You were again taken aback when he threw his head back and laughed loudly. His laughing echoing off the wind before he looked at you. "Those old rumors again. You have nothing to worry about." He assured you waving a hand. "Those are baseless rumors people had made up over misunderstandings and bad intentions!"

A sigh of relief left you despite it all. Yeah. You already figured as much, but hearing someone else confirm it put you at ease. "I figured that already... Although there is one more thing bugging me."

His head tilted. "And what might that be?"

"This person also told me Sanemi got into a really bad fight with someone who ended up in the hospital." You couldn't shake the way those men literally feared Sanemi at the pub. Something clearly happened. "Is that true?'

Kyojuro stared at you still, looked you up and down, before sighing. "It is but it's exaggerated way out of context. What really happened was someone else tried to kiss Hinatsuru without her consent at a party. When they wouldn't leave her alone, Sanemi more or less punched him in the face."

"So..he did make someone go to the hospital?"

"Well I suppose technically but the only thing he had was a broken nose. People like to make it seem like he had beaten the man into a coma but it's simply just a matter of him defending someone he cares about."

"Like he did for me."

Kyojuro smiled wider. "Yes. Exactly! You get it! Is that everything that concerns you?"

You nodded in relief. "Yes it does. Thank you, Kyojuro. It's been really comforting. I guess it goes to show there's still things to learn about you guys."

A glimmer of excitement formed in his eyes. "Then you should come celebrate with Tengen next weekend!"

You blinked. "Huh?"

"There's this cloud we're celebrating Mario's birthday at! Since you'd like to learn more about us you should come along and spend time with everyone!"

"I-...I don't know. I haven't even been invited."

"I'll throw the idea their way! If they say yes, you should come! It'll be lots of fun!"

"Well..Maybe. I'll have to think about it first!"

"SPLENDID!! Now come! It's getting colder and as much as I enjoy the beautiful night, Gyomei wouldn't be happy if I allowed you to catch a cold."

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welufo · 3 months ago

Text

larch needles gild the path

#morning #walk #forest #autumn

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her-satanic-wiles · 8 months ago

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Dawn Chorus - III

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.8k.

Reading Time: 27min.

Warnings: asshole!Copia, blood extraction,drunk!Copia, mild sexual harassment?? (there’s nothing inherently sexual about what he’s doing, but it is uncomfortable and I wanted to tag it just to be safe), non-consensual rituals,restrained with ropes, rituals, soul modification, tied with ropes, use of needles

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @antoniamarie1989

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

The echoing of a choir sung eerily in your mind, the song slow and sombre as the melody continued. The same tune, verse by verse, sticking to your brain like glue; the lyrics haunting your waking moments. In an ironic turn of events, despite all your doubts and building hatred for the Great Creator, you found a morbid comfort in the songs the morals sung in gratitude, praising Him for their life however it looked, grateful for His grace. In your time watching the world go by, in the silence of your solitude and between visits from the creature that saw you as livestock and nothing more, those voices rang out to you, the lyrics tumbling from your lips and you found yourself joining the chorus.

“Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!

E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me,

Still all my song shall be,

Nearer, my God, to thee;

Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!”

The mortal desire to walk amongst Him both on this plane and in Heaven. It made you want to laugh. It was your wish to do the same thing, hold an audience with Him, breathe the air He created as He exhaled it. And look where it got you: locked in a cage, holy light dimming, and blood drained twice a week for your troubles by a being that took pleasure in your discomfort if it meant a night of intoxication for him. Your resolve was still strong, you still were sure that you’d escape, yet you sat atop a mountain of failed plans and played a waiting game before you could try something new.

“Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,

Darkness be over me, my rest a stone;

Yet in my dreams I’d be

Nearer, my God, to thee;

Nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee!”

There was nothing darker than the shadow of Satan, the fallen angel who despised the Lord so much, he actively worked to depose Him. Perhaps it was the nature of the building you were trapped in, the unholy scriptures you’d hear during Monday’s service, or the attitude of the Sister and the Cardinal, but you’d commit unforgivable sins if you were to hide the fact that you’d thought a great deal on the subject while trapped in this gilded cage. Was Lucifer right in his actions? Was he truly onto something? Did he know something about the Almighty the rest of you had been programmed to look passed and not notice?

You remembered hearing stories about Lucifer’s departure from Heaven when you were new to that life. Unlike your superiors, you weren’t old enough to have been there in person to witness the events unfolding. Thus, you were forced to rely on retellings from the angels who were brave enough to talk about it. Brave or stupid, given Lucifer’s story was forbidden to discuss.

Lucifer was once one of the most glorious and powerful angels in Heaven. He was created by God as a radiant and magnificent being, endowed with great beauty, wisdom, and authority.

However, Lucifer’s unparalleled beauty and lofty position led to pride and ambition within him. He began to desire to ascend even higher, seeking to exalt himself above God and to become equal to or greater than the Almighty. This prideful ambition grew into rebellion, as Lucifer sought to challenge the authority of God and establish his own dominion.

In his arrogance, Lucifer rallied a faction of angels to his cause, persuading them to join him in his rebellion against God’s rule. Together, they launched a revolt in Heaven, seeking to overthrow the divine order and seize control of the celestial realms.

But their rebellion was swiftly and decisively crushed by the forces of God’s loyal angels, led by the archangel Michael. In a great battle, Lucifer and his followers were defeated and cast out of Heaven, their rebellion crushed and their ambitions shattered.

As punishment for his pride and rebellion, Lucifer was cast down from Heaven and condemned to eternal damnation. He became known as Satan, the adversary, and was banished to the depths of Hell, where he would reign as the ruler of darkness and the chief antagonist to God and humanity.

The stories you were always taught showed Lucifer in a negative light, so power-hungry and greedy, convinced he could overthrow Him and rule in His stead. Now, after experiencing the wrath of Heaven, and God’s heedlessness towards both you and the mortals He created, you wondered if Lucifer was really greedy, or if he was informed of the Almighty’s incompetence and wanted to do more.

“There let the way appear, steps unto Heaven;

All that thou sendest me, in mercy given;

Angels to beckon me

Nearer, my Go -”

“Would you knock it off?”

The sound of the Cardinal’s voice had you turning around in a quick snap, looking at the doorway of his room. His voice was slurred but clear enough that you could understand him perfectly. “You’re too fucking loud.” His make up was running in places from the sweat and the evening’s activities, and you could see the dawn peeking through the gaps in the curtains.

“I shan’t,” you shouted back, a glee in your voice that shouldn’t be there. The longer you kept him awake and poked at him, the easier it would be to get him to open the door and then pass out - allowing you to escape.

“Disobey me and see what happens to you.”

“Thou wilt take no action,” you chided with confidence.

“‘Thou wilt’,” he repeated, “Why do you talk like that?” He asked, staggering over to the cage. He cackled, the cackle that mortals do when they’re heavily inebriated. “It’s funny.”

“Thus do we angels converse in Heaven, when in the company of the Almighty and His warriors.” You murmured, your voice soft and reverent.

The Cardinal hissed at the mention of God. “Fuck him. And fuck you, too!” He smacked the side of the cage and chuckled. “I don’t-” he burped. “Why were you singing? Just now… only happy people sing.”

You stared at him in confusion, you’d seen drunk mortals before, but your blood had turned this guy into the biggest idiot you’d ever seen. “I have naught else to occupy my time. Even caged birds sing; perchance ‘tis what mortals dub as ‘yearning’.”

“Yearn quieter then.”

“I shall yearn as loudly as I so desire.”

“Not while I’m in the room, you won’t.”

“Then, with my waking thoughts -”

“No.”

“bright with thy praise -”

“You can’t even sing.”

“Out of my stony griefs -”

“I said, shut up!” he roared, demanding your silence. You obeyed this time, given his fist collided with the cage and dented the side. “I never asked for dinner and a show.” He laughed at himself a little, until what he said sank in and he bent over, laughing harder. Once he’d composed himself, he stood straight and wiped the tears from his eyes. “If you’re gonna sing - at least sing something good.”

He walked over to a square box in the corner and picked up another square thing. This time it was red. You stared at it with your brows furrowed, trying to make sense of it. A black and red, circular object came out of the sleeve, and he placed it inside the square box. After a little maneuvering, sound began to pour from the box and into the room.

It was a droning sound, resembling wind whipping through a forest in the dead of night, designed to strike fear into the hearts of anyone listening. You shivered, your body growing cold at the sensation - the fear of being chased seeming to be too much for you to even think about let alone experience. Then, suddenly, a voice rang out.

“Ring-a-ring of roses,

A pocket full of posies,

Atishoo! Atishoo!

We all fall down.

Ashes on the water,

Ashes in the sea,

Ashes on the riverside,

One, two, three!”

The melody was interrupted by what you assumed to be a guitar, the sudden sound of which made you jump in fright. You’d heard about mortals and their modern proclivities with music - and how they’d made all kinds of sounds with the Almighty’s instruments. You’d never heard this before, used only to the sounds of orchestral beauty and choir singers in their various Houses of God.

“The guy who wrote this,” the Cardinal began, enthusiastically pointing to the music maker and shouting over the loud sounds, “has two little semen demons. They sang that. Genius!”

The music changed into a second song, a more upbeat tempo but still with a heavy sound. A different voice sang that time, definitely a grown man.

“In times of turmoil

In times like these

Beliefs contagious

Spreading disease

This wretched mischief -”

“The bard’s voice resemblances thine!” You shouted back to him.

The Cardinal shook his head. “What!?”

You made your voice louder. “I said: The singer doth resemble thee!”

He huffed and went to turn the music down. “What?” He snapped.

“I said: The bard’s voice resemblances thine.”

“Oh,” he smiled, “it is me.”

You blinked for a second, comprehending the information that had just passed through your ears. The Cardinal made music, and he was playing it to you… while you were trapped in a cage… in his bedroom… “Dost thou not feel ashamed?” you asked him, genuine intrigue in your voice.

“Why would I feel ashamed?”

“Pride is a sin. And thou art compelling me to listen to thy music without my request. According to mortal social conventions, is this not cause for embarrassment?”

He turned the music up. “I can’t hear you! The music’s too loud!”

“I said: Pride is a sin! And thou art -” He turned the music up and gestured to his ears, silently telling you that he couldn’t hear you while he danced and sang along to his own music.

“Will suffer punishments beneath the wrath of God

Never to forgive

Them rats!”

You watched as the man continued to dance, even while the sun got brighter from behind the shades. The small amount of sunlight that trickled in wasn’t enough to hurt him, but you wished it was.

Songs ended and began again only to renew the cycle over and over until eventually, another song played that was very upbeat and the Cardinal seemed pleased by it. You saw an opportunity, “What be the title of this melody?”

“Dance Macabre.”

“Thou shouldst release me from this enclosure.”

He laughed. “You want to dance, little angel?”

You hesitated. “Aye?”

He fumbled with his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, placing the smallest one in the keyhole of your now dented cage. You heard the sound of the locks opening, and the door swinging wide to let you out. The Cardinal swayed, in part to the music, in part to his intoxication, but unlike his treatment of you thus far, he held out his hand for you to take. You stood and eyed him suspiciously, unsure if this was another trick to hurt you with. But when he shook his hand, gesturing you to take it, you obliged, feeling his leather clad hand wrap around your naked fingers and ease you out of the cage with a gentility you’d never experienced before. You took the opportunity to flap your wings, stretching them out while you could, because you didn’t know how long he’d have you out of your prison.

He pulled you away from the cage and let you go, choosing to dance instead of keeping you held to him. The door was left ajar and you looked at it once, then looked back at the Cardinal hoping that he didn’t see your glance. He didn’t.

But just as you were about to make a break for it, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, threatening to send you sprawling to the ground. You staggered, clutching at the nearest piece of furniture for support, your heart pounding in your chest.

The Cardinal’s laughter echoed in your ears, mocking and derisive. “Where do you think you’re going, little angel?” he slurred, his voice dripping with contempt. “You belong to me now. Did the Sister not tell you just how much Hell-metal is in here?” He pulled you to his body and forced you to dance. “Contingencies, my angel. Contingencies!”

“Thou must permit me to depart. ‘Tis not equitable.” You whined, staring at the door. You tried to push him off of you and make a second run for it - to which he just held on tightly. In the struggle, he pushed you backwards into his bed-frame and making you fall back onto it with him landing on top of you. Your wings splayed out against the black sheets, and his arms were still around your waist, clinging onto you like a koala.

“You’re mine, little angel,” he muttered into your chest where his head lay and his words muffled. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You tried to push him off of you but your strength wasn’t anywhere near what it should have been, meaning that when he fell asleep on you, still clutching onto your body, you had no way to push him off, the open door staring at you, taunting you for your weaknesses.

The bed was comfortable beneath you, and you could feel yourself sinking into it. You didn’t remember the last time you felt something soft beneath your wings, feeling so warm and welcomed by the sweet embrace of plush-soft linens and a mattress that absorbed both of your weights, you could feel the ache of your bones melt away, the soreness of your muscles heal, and your eyes closed. If only for a moment, you could enjoy the bliss and the comfort that had been offered to you, even if it was an accidental, drunken moment by your captor.

“Wake up!”

You woke up to something ice cold being thrown on you, drenching your entire body in freezing cold water that stole the breath from your lungs and soaked your white robes. Your eyes snapped open immediately, and your body scrambled away from the offending wetness, crawling up the bed and making it wetter with each move you made. When you finally locked eyes on the culprit, you gulped at the sight of her. It was the Sister, flanked by three ghouls. She was handing the now empty bucket to one of them, who took it from her with a respectful bow and disappeared out the open door.

“The audacity of you to sleep in your master’s bed!” the Sister began to scold.

“He placed me herein. He was inebriated! I lacked the strength to repel him,” you protested quickly, panic in your voice.

The Sister smirked. “It didn’t take him long to fuck you did it?”

“Long for… what?” You flushed when you realised what she meant. “I can assure thee, my virtue remains unsullied.”

The Sister raised her eyebrows. “Mhmm. And I’m a pig that can fly.”

“Indeed, I had no intention of uttering aught.”

The Sister chuckled dryly, her smirk widening as she replied, “Well, if pigs could fly, perhaps they’d have a better chance of avoiding the mess you’ve found yourself in. Remember, song bird, I’m still perfectly happy in my pig pen with the muck that surrounds me. You’re the dove who’s out of place.”

You donned your own smirk. “And yet, only one among us possesseth the capability to soar above the mire.”

“For now. ghouls?”

The ghouls moved forward and you jumped away, launching off the bed and diving into a corner. Catching you proved tricky for both of them, given your sleep had allowed you to be more rested than before, though, you were still running out of stamina. The longer they toyed with you, and the more you ran, the more strength you used up until you were almost completely out. They caught you, despite your valiant attempts to escape. And soon enough, the Sister was leading you all out of the Cardinal’s quarters and into a whole new section of the building: the Basilica di Lilith.

Named after Adam’s first wife before Eve was even considered, Lilith, a figure of defiance and rebellion, was given her own space of sanctity and adoration. According to some interpretations, she was a beautiful woman cast out of the Garden of Eden for demanding equality and daring to disobey Adam. Dubbed by the demonic as “our mother who never was,” Lilith was said to be cursed to live out her existence as a demon, forever feared and shunned by humanity. However, she found a place of reverence within the Satanic Church, where she was honoured and respected. The main space of worship was dedicated solely to her, adorned and tended to by her supposed daughters, perpetuating her legacy of defiance and independence in a house that stole from the Saints.

The Basilica, with its pristine white stone and Gothic architecture, stood as a symbol of reverence and sanctity for the congregation. Pointed archways and intricately carved Italian columns adorned the space, framing the dark wooden pews that lined the centre aisle. Above, the cream-colored ceiling soared, punctuated by pointed arches that reached up to the towering columns in both the nave and choir loft.

However, the sacredness of the space was marred by the presence of blasphemous depictions adorning its walls. Specifically commissioned stained glass windows depicted Lilith’s purported role in Eden, her fall from grace, and her demonisation. These depictions served as a stark reminder of this church’s departure from orthodox teachings and its descent into heresy.

At the heart of the sanctuary stood a statue of a disrobed Lilith, her arms outstretched in defiance. Behind her loomed the figure of Baphomet, a symbol of Satanism, with one hand resting on her shoulder and the other on her stomach. This grotesque representation of Lilith’s supposed significance in the Church was housed in a dark wooden alcove crafted with a pointed tip akin to their Holy counterparts, further distorting the sacred space. The statue, carved from bright white marble, stood in stark contrast to its surroundings, a glaring affront to the traditional Christian beliefs upheld by the congregation.

For devout followers of the Almighty, and even you, the desecration of this sacred building with such sacrilegious imagery was a cause for great distress. It served as a stark reminder of the dangers of straying from the teachings of the Almighty and succumbing to the influences of darkness and heresy. And, being a hallowed being, you could feel your skin tingling with the droplets of demonic entities and the mists of Hell swirling through this unhallowed hall.

In front of the statue was the Cardinal, a paintbrush in his hand where he’d painted a red, Satanic pentagram on the floor. He turned to look at you when he heard the commotion of your struggling and screaming out in pain, your bare feet being pulled along the marble floor. He smiled at you, an unsettling warm look that made chills run down your spine. That was when you put up some more resistance, only to realise how futile it actually was. Once you were inside the pentagram, the ghouls pushed you to your knees tied your wings, ankles, and wrists, to keep you there and stop you from escaping no matter how much you struggled.

Your eyes caught a flicker of something in the Cardinal’s, but you couldn’t place the feeling exactly. There was a hesitation to his actions, though he followed through with them once he’d pushed through whatever battle he was fighting in his mind. The Sister, though, never wavered, and both of them continued to look upon you with an uneasy happiness that mimicked the face of the Devil.

“What dost thou intend to do with me?” you asked, still fighting against the ropes.

They had no intention of responding to your question, acting as though you weren’t actually there, until the Sister had opened the ancient, chunky book to the correct page, and finally addressed you. “The process will begin soon unless you willingly tell us what we want to know,” the Sister told you definitively, leaving no room for negotiations or arguments. “If we can’t control you through your halo, we’ll change your soul until you bow to us. This is your final chance. What is Yhwh’s plan? What weaknesses does he have?”

You winced at the sound of the Almighty’s name, one that you were never permitted to speak. His name was for the higher angels, and the higher members of His congregation to use only in respect when talking about Him. Everyone else had to use his titles.

As usual, you refused to give any answers, knowing it would land you in more trouble in Heaven than it would on the mortal realms. Though, you were sure Heaven wouldn’t welcome you back now, there was always a hope, a prayer that lingered in the back of your mind, wishing that you could return home. And so, they began… and it wasn’t until they’d begun chanting from one of their books, you realised exactly what this was.

You’d heard stories about this before, Angels being forcefully turned into demonic entities against their will. If an angel has willingly fallen from grace and turned to Satan, there is no pain or ritual involved necessarily, their hearts and wings just turn black, their halos turn red until eventually the Holy Light within had died and the halo was of no more use. But forceful turning such as this, required meticulously planned rituals that took five months to complete, five full moons, and five rituals, one for each point of the pentagram. They were going to turn you into a demon… and they were going to change your entire being just so they could find out the Almighty’s plans and weaknesses.

By the sounds of the Latin you were hearing, this was the ritual of corruption. This ritual involved exposing the angel to dark energies and corrupting influences, gradually eroding their purity and innocence. They used ancient incantations and unholy relics to channel these corruptive forces onto the angel, slowly tainting their soul and weakening their connection to the divine. But, unbeknownst to them, the ritual would only partially work, because your connection to the divine had already weakened with every instance you questioned the Almighty, and begun to loathe Him for His actions.

When the ritual was done, you felt no different than before. There was no pain, no mental cloudiness - nothing. You were still you. There was a part of you that wondered if the ritual had actually worked, because surely you’d feel… something. Perhaps it was the bumbling idiocy of the Cardinal that spoiled the ritual. Perhaps it was the terrible Latin pronunciation of the Sister that ruined it, you couldn’t say. And neither could they. Thus, with a vow to continue until the end regardless of if it worked or not, you were dragged, still bound, back to the Cardinals rooms to be locked back into your cage.

Days passed, and you paid witness to the unfolding life of the Cardinal, who would spend most of his down time drinking your blood and getting intoxicated with his hellish ghouls. He paid you no mind unless he needed more of your blood, treating you like a pet more than a humanoid being. He would get out the shower and appear only in his towel as he got ready for the night ahead, he would play music whenever he felt like it, work in his bedroom rather than his living and study room, choose to drink the blood of members of the Clergy in his bed so you could see him do that. Multiple people at a time, choosing to give themselves to him to feast upon. And you were disgusted the whole time, watching him feast on other’s blood just as he had with you, and enjoying how uncomfortable it made you the entire time.

Every other day, when the Cardinal had left to go and do his “duties”, the door would open and his cleaner would enter the room, and this would turn out to be your favourite time of the night. He exuded an air of quiet efficiency and unassuming presence. His appearance was unremarkable at first glance, yet upon closer inspection, subtle details hinted at a depth of character and experience.

He was of average height, with a lean and wiry build that spoke of strength and agility. His hair, a shade of dark chestnut brown, was cropped short and neatly groomed, framing a face that bore the weathered lines of someone who had seen their fair share of hardships. His features were angular and defined, with piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a wealth of untold stories and hidden depths.

Dressed in a simple uniform of black trousers and a crisp white shirt, the cleaner moved with a quiet grace and purpose, his movements fluid and precise. Despite the monotony of his task, there was a sense of pride in his workmanship, evident in the meticulous care with which he attended to his duties.

As he went about his work, the soft glow of candlelight cast gentle shadows across his rugged features, accentuating the strength and resolve that lay beneath his unassuming exterior. Though his presence went unnoticed by many, to those who took the time to observe, there was a quiet dignity and integrity that emanated from him, a testament to his unwavering commitment to his craft.

He wasn’t supposed to speak to you - no, not even look at you. But telling a man to not look at the angel in a gilded cage was a surefire way to get him to do the thing he wasn’t supposed to. In all your time spent in the mortal realm, you’d come to learn that all of the Almighty’s male creations had a penchant for defiancy, taking the word ‘no’ as an invitation to continue to do the thing. And so, once he realised that no harm would come to him when he looked at you, he would glance over then dart his eyes away when you realised he was watching you. When you waved, he waved back, tucking his pink lips into his teeth and giving an awkward smile that showed his discomfort but told you that he was at least kind. That wave turned into a brief, “Good evening,” as he entered the room to begin his chores, until eventually, he was striking full blown conversations with you.

The Cardinal’s cleaner, known as Brother Thomas to all the members of the clergy, possessed a quiet dignity and a gentle demeanor that belied the strength and resilience within him. He was a man of few words, preferring instead to let his actions speak for themselves. Despite the demanding nature of his job, Brother Thomas approached his duties with unwavering dedication and meticulous attention to detail.

Born into humble beginnings, Thomas had faced his fair share of challenges and hardships throughout his life. Yet, he bore these trials with stoicism and grace, drawing strength from his unwavering faith and inner resolve. He was a man of integrity and principle, guided by a strong moral compass that steered him through life’s tumultuous waters.

In his spare moments, Brother Thomas could often be found lost in thought, reflecting on the mysteries of life and the complexities of the human condition. He possessed a keen intellect and a thirst for knowledge, delving into books and literature to expand his understanding of the world around him.

Despite his reserved nature, Thomas harbored a deep well of compassion and empathy for those around him. He had a knack for putting others at ease with his quiet presence and genuine kindness, offering a comforting shoulder to lean on in times of need.

To those who took the time to get to know him, Brother Thomas was a steadfast friend and confidant, a beacon of stability and support in an ever-changing world. Though he may have been overlooked by some, to those who truly saw him for who he was, Brother Thomas was a shining example of humility, strength, and grace.

Thomas’ decision to join the Satanic Ministry was born out of a complex interplay of personal experiences and ideological shifts. While on the surface it may seem contradictory for someone of his character and background to align with such an organization, there were several key factors that influenced his decision. Despite his unwavering dedication to his Catholic beliefs, Thomas experienced a profound crisis of faith following a series of personal tragedies. The loss of loved ones and witnessing injustices in the world shook his belief in the benevolence of God and the efficacy of traditional religious teachings. Over time, Brother Thomas became disillusioned with the hierarchical structure and institutionalized dogma of the Catholic Church. He witnessed firsthand the hypocrisy and corruption within its ranks, leading him to question its authority and legitimacy.

Thomas was drawn to the Satanic Ministry’s emphasis on individualism, personal empowerment, and the rejection of arbitrary authority. He found solace in the principles of self-reliance and personal responsibility advocated by Satanism, seeing it as a path towards greater autonomy and self-actualization. Despite its provocative name and associations, Thomas resonated with many of the core tenets of Satanism, such as the pursuit of knowledge, rational inquiry, and the celebration of human potential. He found common ground with fellow members who shared his commitment to intellectual freedom and critical thinking.

All of this information, you got out of him while he was cleaning the Cardinal’s rooms, for once he got started, he just simply couldn’t stop. But, as he was one of the first people to keep you company, and treat you kindly, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to interrupt him, or stop his babbling however incessant it had become. Over the course of a few weeks, you were able to share your story too, the pair of you finding common ground in the disillusion of the Almighty and the questions that ultimately had you both shunned from your respective societies.

Brother Thomas had told you that he’d wanted to meet you ever since he found out you were there, but the Cardinal told people that you were feral and dangerous, and not to be disturbed. “I see now that was all a lie,” he told you, sitting on the end of the Cardinal’s bed and making himself comfortable.

You sighed, and made yourself as comfortable as you could inside your cage. “It doth appear that he desires to retain me solely for himself. I hold greater worth to him when concealed from sight.”

“Well, your wings alone would go for a fortune, no wonder this room is kept under constant watch.” You clutched onto your wings protectively, as if Brother Thomas had the inclination to steal them from you. “No, no! I wouldn’t! But there are others who would.”

“The Cardinal already partakes of my blood as he wishes. Wherefore should my wings be any different?” Your voice was small, smaller than you intended it to be.

Thomas looked appalled. “He doesn’t?” He didn’t doubt you, not one bit. But he didn’t know what else he could say.

“He doth indeed. Near unto slaying me with each extraction. Then, he returns me hither to recuperate until the next occasion.”

“That’s disgusting! I’m so sorry.”

“I desire to depart from this abode,” you told him, looking at the Cardinal’s carpeted floors. “I draw near to freedom, yet each attempt ends in failure.”

Brother Thomas was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I could help?”

You looked at him, eyes widened in surprise. “Thou wouldst undertake such a task on my behalf? Wilt thou not incur retribution?”

“Well, I left one religious organisation because of their barbaric opinions and actions. What’s a second one?” Thomas shrugged nonchalantly. “Besides, no one should live like this.”

“Thou art the most gracious being to have ever lived.”

He pushed back hair that wasn’t there, as if to prove his excellence. “What can I say? I’m an angel,” he joked. And for the first time since falling, you laughed. The joke wasn’t funny by any means, but it was the first time someone had actively tried to make you feel better, and so you just couldn’t stop the giggles as they fell from your lips.

A plan was devised. Brother Thomas would provide you with a change of clothes and a cloak to conceal your angelic appearance. By blending in with the surroundings and adopting a more inconspicuous guise, you would be able to move about unnoticed. You agreed upon a specific window of opportunity for you to make your escape, choosing a moment when the guards were likely to be distracted or preoccupied. Brother Thomas would keep a watchful eye on the movements of the ministry members, alerting you when the time was right. Brother Thomas would map out a discreet route for you to follow, guiding you through the labyrinthine corridors and hidden passages of the Ministry headquarters. He would provide you with detailed instructions and navigational cues to ensure a smooth and swift exit. All you’d have to do, was make sure the Cardinal was intoxicated enough to fall asleep on you again, where you’d be able to snatch the keys from him and keep them hidden on your person until Thomas was able to get you out. He was good, but he wasn’t that good. All that remained was to wait.

The waiting was the hardest part, because you would still see Thomas every other day as planned, and he would still sit and talk to you, provide you with some comfort until he absolutely had to go.

Until one day, he came into the Cardinal’s room a little more excited than normal. “The window,” he said, breathlessly, “of opportunity is coming! Next week, the Cardinal and the Sister will be preoccupied with visiting an abbey north of here, in Sweden, I think. They won’t be here.”

“Art thou certain they wilt not desire to take me along with them?” You asked, standing up in your excitement.

“I don’t see how they can,” he replied, mirroring your excitement. “They’d need to transport an angel and her cage, all without raising suspicion. And what with the current crime rates and trafficking laws, you’re bound to attract attention they don’t want! It’s perfect!”

“‘Tis a splendid notion! But what of the remainder of the clergy? Shall they still abide herein?”

Brother Thomas frowned. “It won’t be easy. But, there are ways we can-”

“Angel! I’m home!”

Your stomach dropped at the sound of a third voice coming from the entrance door in the next room over. The Cardinal was home, and he wasn’t supposed to be. Your heart raced as you heard the Cardinal’s voice echoing through the corridors, an unexpected intrusion on your carefully laid plans. Panic seized you as you realized that Thomas was still in the room with you, and the Cardinal’s presence meant imminent danger. “Thou must conceal thyself!” You whisper-shouted. You pointed to the Cardinal’s bed. “Conceal thyself beneath that!”

“He’s a vampyre, he’ll know!” Thomas protested.

“‘Tis the optimal choice we possess. I shall divert his attention, and thou seize the chance to flee!”

With a sense of urgency, Thomas scrambled to conceal himself, his movements frantic yet silent as he slipped beneath the bed frame.

Meanwhile, the Cardinal’s footsteps grew louder and closer, each one sending a shiver down your spine. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you waited, breath held, for the inevitable confrontation.

The door creaked open just as Thomas’ foot had disappeared underneath, and the Cardinal’s shadow loomed large in the doorway, his presence casting a sinister pall over the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him cautiously approach, his eyes scanning the room with a predatory gleam.

You held your breath, praying that Thomas remained undetected beneath the bed, as the Cardinal drew nearer and nearer. Every creak of the floorboards seemed to echo like thunder in the silence, heightening the tension to unbearable levels.

Just when you thought you couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, the Cardinal’s gaze swept over the room, lingering for a moment on your cage before moving on. With a dismissive grunt, he turned away, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath the bed. In his hands was the box containing the usual blood draining equipment. “Did my ears deceive me, Angel? Or did I hear you talking to someone?” He asked, his tone making his suspicion obvious.

“I spake but unto myself,” you replied, trying to keep your voice lighthearted and normal. “Singing more hymns, yet the words escape me.”

The Cardinal walked over to the side of the bed that Brother Thomas had dived under. “No, I’m sure I heard a man.” He placed the box down exactly where Thomas’ foot was.

“Thou must be descending into madness, Cardinal. More so than thy usual state.”

The Cardinal raised his eyebrows. “Resorting to gaslighting, are we?”

You hissed, “What manner of deception is this? I am unfamiliar with it. A foul creature of the night would resort to any means to portray themselves as righteous.”

The Cardinal sighed, “Oh sweet angel, you’ve no idea the position you’re in, do you?” He fiddled with his keys and unlocked the cage door. “Come on, we need some more of that delicious blood of yours. Fight me, and you’ll regret it.”

Willingly, you did as you were told, following his direction to get on the bed and lie on your back. You were terrified, mostly because you knew that Thomas was still in the room and wouldn’t be able to leave while the Cardinal was there. It scared you to think that the Cardinal would find him, and what he’d do if he caught Thomas.

“Your heartbeat’s racing, Angel,” the Cardinal commented as he tied both your arms in tourniquets to find your veins. “You’re either scared, or falling in love with me.”

“Thine countenance is one that only a mother could cherish.” You snapped back.

“She does love me - she doesn’t always show it,” he inserted the first needle and directed the tube into the bottle’s open mouth, “but I know she does.”

“Perchance she is a simpleton.”

“Evil? Sometimes. Headstrong and narcissistic? Absolutely.” The Cardinal moved to the other side of the bed and repeated the motion with the second arm. “A simpleton? Certainly not. We’ve been alive for centuries, Angel, she’s concocted her fair share of schemes, and the majority have worked.”

“And do those schemes entail extracting an angel’s blood until she is nigh unto death?”

“Of course.” The Cardinal smiled - actually smiled. “It’s not often our kind can get a hold of your blood. It’ll go for millions of dollars on the market. We’ve made so many replicas of course, but none compare to the real thing.” He watched as your blood dripped into the wine bottles, four on each side. He planned to almost fully drain you tonight, apparently.

Your body had already begun to feel the effects of your blood dripping away from you, and your eyes grew heavier and heavier until, eventually, the last thing you felt was the Cardinal stroking your hair.

When you woke up, you were back in your cage and the Cardinal was sat in his bed, glasses perched on the end of his nose and eyes trained on a book. You were still feeling the effects of the blood loss, but you were certainly much better than before, your halo working hard in the cage next to you to try and get you back up and on your feet. You sat up and stretched, attracting the attention of the Cardinal, who smiled at you. “Ah, she’s awake at last.” He commented, looking at you over the top of his glasses. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel as though thou hast drained all my blood and brought me to the brink of death.” You tried to stand but your body was too weak. “For how long hath I been in slumber?”

“Five days,” the Cardinal looked back to his book, “your recovery time is getting longer. We’re going to have to start rationing if this keeps up. Or get another angel. Say, do you think we could use you as bait?”

“I pray thee choke and perish upon my blood.”

The Cardinal laughed, “If that happens,” the door to his bedroom knocked, then opened, “you’ll be stuck in that cage forever - ah! Brother López. Come in, please!”

The Brother opened the door wider and stepped inside, looking polite as he watched the Cardinal stand to greet him.

“Angel,” the Cardinal addressed you, “this is my new cleaner, Brother Santiago López.”

Prev. ⛧ Next

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danika-redgrave124 · 19 days ago

Text

Day 10: Vintage

Lilia hummed an old melody as he carefully adjusted the antique phonograph in his room. The needle scratched slightly before settling into place, and soon, a soft, warbling tune drifted through the air. It was a song from centuries past, one he hadn’t heard in ages, yet it still carried the warmth of familiar memories.

His fingers traced the delicate engravings on the phonograph’s wooden base, each groove telling a story of a time long before Night Raven College had even existed. “Ah, they don’t make things like this anymore,” he mused, his voice filled with nostalgia.

Lilia’s room was a treasure trove of the past—worn leather-bound books stacked in precarious towers, vintage trinkets scattered across shelves, and faded letters tied with ribbon, their ink barely legible. A gilded hand mirror sat atop a desk, its surface slightly tarnished but still reflecting his amused expression as he inspected it.

“I wonder,” he murmured, spinning the mirror between his fingers. “How many faces has this mirror seen? How many souls have gazed into it, hoping to catch a glimpse of something long gone?”

He chuckled, setting it down before reaching for a box tucked away beneath his desk. Inside, wrapped in aged silk, was an old-fashioned military jacket, from a time when battles were fought with swords rather than just ourright spells. The fabric was slightly worn, but the buttons still gleamed under the candlelight.

Holding it up, he smiled wistfully. “I used to think this was the height of fashion,” he laughed, slipping it on. It still fit, though the weight of history sat heavier on his shoulders than it ever had before.

The phonograph’s tune slowly faded, replaced by silence. Lilia closed his eyes, letting himself be lost in the echoes of the past just for a moment longer.

Then, with a playful smirk, he spun on his heel and clapped his hands together. “Well! No use dwelling too long! The present is just as exciting, after all.”

Yet, as he moved to prepare for the evening, the phonograph remained playing on repeat, filling his room with the gentle whispers of a bygone era.

@oh-hopeless-heart

Kind of used a personal headcanon of mine that Lilia loves to collect Vintage related things as a way to remember an era long forgotten by everyone else.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst fan event #disney twst #disneytwistedlove #twst fanfic

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whywontyoucomeout · 8 months ago

Text

Shadows in the Night

The moon hung low in the inky sky, its silvery light barely penetrating the thick canopy of clouds that blanketed the sprawling estate below. The manor house loomed large against the backdrop of darkness, its imposing silhouette a testament to the power and wealth of its occupant. Guards patrolled the perimeter with clockwork precision, their eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of intrusion.

But on this night, their vigilance would prove futile.

Like a whisper on the wind, Hikari moved through the grounds with preternatural grace. Her black attire melded seamlessly with the darkness, rendering her all but invisible to the untrained eye. Each step was calculated, each movement purposeful. She was Hikari of the Phantom Leaf, the greatest ninja of her generation, and tonight she had come to strike fear into the heart of a tyrant.

With practiced ease, Hikari scaled the wall, her fingers finding purchase where others would see only smooth stone. She vaulted over the top, landing silently on the other side. The inner courtyard stretched before her, a maze of meticulously manicured hedges and tranquil ponds. To an ordinary person, it might have seemed peaceful. To Hikari, it was a field of potential dangers.

She moved from shadow to shadow, her senses alert for any sign of detection. As she neared the main building, Hikari caught sight of two guards stationed at the entrance. Their eyes were alert, their postures rigid with attentiveness. But they were no match for her skills. With a flick of her wrist, Hikari sent two senbon needles flying through the air. They struck their targets with pinpoint accuracy, and the guards slumped to the ground, unconscious before they could raise an alarm.

Hikari slipped inside, her dark eyes scanning the opulent interior. Marble floors gleamed in the dim light, and priceless artworks adorned the walls. But she had no time to appreciate such luxuries. Her target lay ahead, in the heart of this gilded cage.

As she ascended the grand staircase, Hikari's thoughts turned to her mission. The man she sought was more than just a corrupt ruler – he was a monster who had brought suffering to countless innocents. Tonight, she would not end his life, but she would shatter the illusion of his invincibility. Fear would be her weapon, more potent than any blade.

The top floor of the manor was even more heavily guarded, but Hikari moved through their defenses like smoke through a grate. A sleeping gas here, a silent takedown there – she left a trail of unconscious bodies in her wake, never once raising an alarm.

Finally, she stood before an ornate door, its gilded surface a testament to the ego of the man who lay beyond. Hikari took a deep breath, centering herself. With silent determination, she eased the door open and slipped inside. The room beyond was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight that crept through a gap in the heavy curtains. And there, in a massive four-poster bed, lay her target – the dictator whose reign of terror was about to be challenged.

As Hikari moved towards the sleeping figure, her hand brushed against a small table, causing a delicate vase to wobble. She froze, her heart pounding, as the vase teetered on the edge for what felt like an eternity. Then, with agonizing slowness, it settled back into place.

The dictator stirred slightly but did not wake. Hikari let out a silent breath of relief, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her body. It was only then, in the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, that the true extent of her condition became apparent. Hikari's normally lithe form was dramatically altered, her midsection swollen with the unmistakable shape of advanced pregnancy. Her black attire, designed for stealth, had concealed her condition until now, but in this moment of vulnerability, the truth was revealed.

Despite her heavily pregnant state, Hikari of the Phantom Leaf stood poised and ready, prepared to begin the next phase of her mission. The greatest challenge lay ahead, but she was undeterred. Tonight, a tyrant would learn the meaning of fear, and Hikari would prove that even in her condition, she remained the most formidable ninja of her time.

————————————-

Hikari loomed over the sleeping dictator, her presence a palpable threat in the moonlit room. With a swift motion, she pressed a razor-sharp kunai against his throat, jolting him awake. The man's eyes flew open, terror flooding his features as he realized the precariousness of his situation.

"Who... who are you?" he stammered, his voice hoarse with fear.

"I am your worst nightmare," Hikari whispered, her voice cold and steady. "I am here to show you that your power is an illusion, that your walls and guards mean nothing."

The dictator's eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape. Hikari pressed the blade closer, drawing a thin line of blood. "Your crimes against the people will not go unpunished," she hissed. "From this day forward, you will live in fear, knowing that death can come for you at any moment."

As she spoke, Hikari felt a sharp, sudden pain in her abdomen. She managed to suppress a gasp, but couldn't entirely hide the flicker of discomfort that crossed her face. The dictator, ever observant, noticed the change in her demeanor. His eyes traveled down to her swollen belly, visible now in the dim light.

A cruel smile spread across his face as realization dawned. "Well, well," he chuckled, his fear giving way to a newfound confidence. "It seems the great assassin has a weakness after all. You're in no condition to threaten me, girl. Why don't you waddle on out of here before I call my guards? I'm sure they'd be fascinated to meet such an... interesting intruder."

Hikari gritted her teeth as another contraction hit, stronger this time. The dictator's mockery rang in her ears, fueling her determination. With lightning speed, she moved the kunai from his throat to his eye, the tip hovering mere millimeters from the cornea.

"You mistake my condition for weakness," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "I could end your miserable life right now, baby or no baby. Your guards won't save you. Your wealth won't save you. Nothing can save you from me."

To prove her point, Hikari used her free hand to produce three senbon needles, flicking them with deadly accuracy. They embedded themselves in the wall behind the dictator's head, forming a perfect triangle around his ear. The man's bravado crumbled, replaced once again by raw fear.

"Please," he whimpered, all pretense of authority gone. "Please don't kill me. I'll do anything."

Hikari leaned in close, her voice a whisper. "Remember this moment. Remember that your life was in my hands, and I chose to spare it. But if you continue to abuse your power, to hurt the innocent, I will return. And next time, I won't be so merciful."

The dictator nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face. Hikari stepped back, satisfied that her mission was accomplished. The man before her was thoroughly broken, his illusion of invincibility shattered.

As she prepared to make her exit, another contraction hit, more intense than the last. Hikari knew she had to move quickly. With one last glare at the cowering dictator, she moved to the window, her movements still graceful despite her condition.

"Remember," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality. "I'll be watching."

With that, Hikari slipped out into the night, leaving behind a tyrant who would never again sleep soundly. As she made her way through the grounds, she allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. Her mission was a success, and now she had an even more important task ahead – bringing new life into the world.

——————————————-

Hikari moved swiftly through the manor grounds, her ninja training allowing her to maintain stealth despite her condition. The cool night air provided some relief as she navigated the intricate maze of hedges and fountains. Freedom was close – she could see the section of wall where she had entered, now her exit point.

But as she approached her escape route, a powerful contraction hit her with unexpected force. For the first time in her career as an elite ninja, Hikari lost control. A sharp cry escaped her lips, echoing in the quiet night. She immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide with shock at her own outburst.

Before she could recover, she felt a warm gush between her legs. Her water had broken, leaving a conspicuous puddle on the manicured lawn. Hikari's mind raced – this was a complication she hadn't prepared for.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to move. She had to get out now, before –

"Hey! Who's there?" a gruff voice called out. A guard, alerted by her involuntary cry, was approaching with a flashlight in hand.

Hikari melted into the shadows of a nearby topiary, her breathing shallow and controlled despite the pain. She watched as the guard discovered the puddle, his face contorting in confusion.

"What the...?" he muttered, crouching down to examine the liquid.

Hikari knew she couldn't linger. With every second, the risk of discovery increased. She began to move again, using every ounce of her training to remain silent and unseen.

But her body was betraying her. As she crept along the perimeter wall, she felt more fluid trickling down her legs. To her horror, she realized she was leaving a trail – small droplets that glistened in the moonlight, leading directly to her position.

Behind her, she could hear more guards congregating around the initial puddle. Their voices carried on the night air:

"It's not rain."

"Could be from an animal?"

"Wait – there's more over here!"

"Follow it!"

Panic threatened to overwhelm her as Hikari heard the guards beginning to follow her trail. The contractions were coming faster now, each one requiring immense willpower to stay quiet and keep moving.

She reached the spot where she had entered – a section of wall partially hidden by an old oak tree. As she prepared to scale it, another contraction hit. Hikari bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, suppressing another scream.

The guards were getting closer. She could hear their footsteps, see the beams of their flashlights sweeping the grounds. With a final surge of determination, Hikari began to climb.

Her fingers found familiar handholds, her feet somehow maintaining their grip despite the pain and the fluid. She reached the top of the wall just as a flashlight beam illuminated the spot where she had been standing moments before.

"The trail ends here!" a guard shouted.

"Check the other side of the wall!" another responded.

Hikari didn't wait to hear more. She lowered herself down the outer side of the wall, every movement an agony. As her feet touched the ground outside the manor, she heard the guards shouting for reinforcements.

There was no time to rest. Still leaking amniotic fluid, her body wracked with contractions, Hikari disappeared into the forest surrounding the estate. She had escaped the immediate danger, but she was far from safe. Now, she faced an even greater challenge – finding a secure location to give birth, all while evading the search parties that would soon be scouring the area.

The greatest ninja of her generation was now in a race against time, her skills pushed to their absolute limit. The night was far from over, and her most difficult trial was just beginning.

———————————

Hikari's breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed through the dense forest. The sound of pursuit grew louder behind her – the guards had picked up her trail and were closing in fast. Each contraction hit her like a tidal wave, threatening to bring her to her knees.

As she stumbled into a small clearing, Hikari realized with grim certainty that she could no longer outrun her pursuers. The contractions were too intense, too frequent. She could hear the guards crashing through the underbrush, mere moments away from discovering her.

In that instant, Hikari made a decision. She was Hikari of the Phantom Leaf, the greatest ninja of her generation. She would not be hunted down like prey.

With supreme effort, she turned to face the direction of the approaching guards. Her hands moved in a series of rapid signs, preparing a jutsu. As the first guard burst into the clearing, Hikari was ready.

"There she is!" the guard shouted, raising his weapon.

But Hikari was faster. A blast of wind chakra erupted from her palms, sending the man flying backwards into his comrades. Three more guards appeared, their faces a mix of shock and determination as they took in the sight of the heavily pregnant ninja standing defiantly before them.

"Stand down!" one of them commanded. "You can't win this fight in your condition!"

Hikari's response was a flurry of shuriken that forced the guards to dive for cover. She moved with deadly grace, her years of training allowing her to anticipate and counter every attack. A kick here, a precisely thrown kunai there – even in the throes of labor, she was a force to be reckoned with.

One guard managed to get close, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Hikari ducked under the blade, using the man's momentum against him. In one fluid motion, she redirected his swing into another guard, then dropped low to sweep his legs out from under him.

As the battle raged on, Hikari fought not just the guards, but her own body. Each contraction threatened to break her concentration, but she channeled the pain into her attacks, using it to fuel her determination.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the last guard fell unconscious to the forest floor. Hikari stood amid the fallen men, her chest heaving with exertion. She had won, but at a cost. The fight had accelerated her labor, and she could feel the baby coming.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Hikari scanned her surroundings. In the dim pre-dawn light, she spotted the dark mouth of a cave not far from the clearing. It would have to do.

Stumbling now, no longer trying to hide her condition, Hikari made her way to the cave. She barely made it inside before another powerful contraction brought her to her knees. Finding a relatively flat area near the back of the cave, she began to prepare for the imminent birth.

As she arranged herself as comfortably as possible on the cold stone floor, Hikari allowed herself a moment of reflection. This was not how she had envisioned bringing her child into the world, but she had survived, had protected both herself and her baby against impossible odds.

A new contraction built, more intense than any before. Hikari gritted her teeth, bracing herself for the challenge ahead. She had completed her mission and escaped her pursuers. Now, she faced the most important task of her life – bringing new life into the world.

In the quiet of the cave, far from the comforts of home but secure in her own strength and skill, Hikari prepared to meet her child. The greatest ninja of her generation was about to become a mother, and she would face this challenge as she had faced all others – with courage, determination, and an indomitable spirit.

————————-

In the dim light of the cave, Hikari faced her greatest challenge yet. The contractions came in relentless waves, each one more intense than the last. She leaned back against the cool stone wall, her hands instinctively cradling her swollen belly. In this moment of vulnerability, the true extent of her pregnancy was fully revealed – her belly was impressively large, straining against her torn ninja garb.

Hikari, who had moved through heavily guarded compounds without making a sound, now found herself unable to contain her cries. Each contraction drew from her a primal sound that echoed off the cave walls. The dichotomy wasn't lost on her – the silent assassin now filled the air with the raw, unfiltered sounds of impending motherhood.

"I can do this," she whispered to herself between contractions, drawing on the same well of strength that had carried her through countless missions.

Hours passed, blurring together in a haze of effort and determination. Hikari shifted positions frequently, trying to find some measure of comfort in the unforgiving environment. She focused on her breathing, using techniques that had once kept her calm in the face of mortal danger to now manage the pain of childbirth.

As the labor progressed, Hikari felt the baby descending, only to slip back again. It was a dance of progress and retreat, testing her patience and resolve. She widened her stance, bracing herself against the cave floor, every muscle in her body working towards bringing her child into the world.

In a moment of clarity between contractions, Hikari reflected on the irony of her situation. She had spent years honing her body into a silent, lethal weapon. Now, that same body was performing its most natural and vocal function. The juxtaposition was striking – the quietest ninja in the land, now unable to stifle her cries.

But as another powerful contraction built, Hikari realized that this too was a form of strength. To bring life into the world required as much courage and determination as any mission she had undertaken. She was still Hikari of the Phantom Leaf, still the greatest ninja of her generation. This was simply a different kind of battle.

With renewed resolve, Hikari prepared for the final stage of her labor. The greatest challenge of her life was nearing its end, and a new chapter was about to begin.

———————————

The cave echoed with Hikari's labored breathing as the contractions reached their peak intensity. Her body, honed through years of rigorous training, now trembled with exhaustion and pain. In this moment of extreme vulnerability, the walls she had built around her emotions began to crumble.

"Takeshi," she cried out, her voice raw with anguish and longing. "Takeshi, I wish you were here."

The name of her late husband, unspoken for so long, now fell from her lips like a prayer. Hikari, who had faced countless dangers without flinching, found herself yearning for the comfort of his presence. In this intimate moment of weakness, she allowed herself to feel the full weight of her loss.

"Please," she whispered, her hands cradling her swollen belly. "Please, little one, it's time to come out now."

Driven by instinct and desperation, Hikari adjusted her position, trying to find a way to ease the baby's passage. She shifted uncomfortably on the cave floor, doing her best to create more space for the child to emerge.

The pain intensified, and Hikari's pleas turned to determination. She drew upon every ounce of strength left in her body, every lesson in endurance she had ever learned. The greatest ninja of her generation now faced a challenge that required a different kind of courage.

Hours seemed to blur together, punctuated by Hikari's cries and the steady drip of water from the cave's ceiling. And then, just as the first rays of dawn began to filter into the cave's entrance, a new sound pierced the air – the lusty cry of a newborn.

Hikari gasped, her pain momentarily forgotten as she reached for her child. With trembling hands, she cradled the tiny, wriggling form against her chest. Tears streamed down her face, a mix of relief, joy, and lingering sorrow for the husband who would never meet their child.

"Hello, little one," she whispered, her voice hoarse but filled with love. "Welcome to the world."

As the newborn's cries subsided into soft whimpers, Hikari felt a profound shift within herself. She was still Hikari of the Phantom Leaf, still a formidable ninja, but now she was something more – a mother. The mission that had brought her to this cave was complete, but a new, lifelong mission had just begun.

In the quiet of the early morning, as she held her child close and listened to the gentle sounds of their breathing, Hikari made a silent vow. She would protect this new life with all the skill and dedication she had ever brought to her role as a ninja. And perhaps, in raising this child, she would find a new kind of strength – one born not of silence and shadows, but of love and sacrifice.

As the sun rose over the forest, casting a warm glow into the cave, Hikari and her newborn rested. The night of danger and pain had passed, giving way to a new day full of promise and possibility. The greatest challenge of Hikari's life had been met, and a new chapter was just beginning.

#pregnant kink #birth kink #birth story #labor kink

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footnotesaregreat · 1 year ago

Text

Hua Cheng's Simp Diaries 101

*a list of his simp moments bc you've never seen a man so deeply in love*

1. found and kept xie lian's earring from the first time they met when he was 10

2. plays with it a lot

3. kept the umbrella xie lian gave him when it was raining at his shrine

4. only ate from the offerings at the shrine when he was certain it was xie lian himself who told him to

5. was one of the few people who didn't kneel to pray to xie lian bc it was what he asked

6. he brought fresh flowers to the shrine everyday for xie lian's statue to hold

7. he tied the red string of fate on the finger xie lian had tied his own hair around to protect him in the cave

8. he turned his ashes into a ring which he gave to xie lian

9. told him it was nothing important

10. made him his reason to live because xie lian told him to

11. he built thousands of statues and shrines for xie lian

12. he challenged the 33 gods that ridiculed xie lian beat them in battle and burned down their temples *girlboss*

13. he's been drawing xie lian's picture from when he was a child from the first day that he saved him

14. made a big ass door for the shrine so it'd be better protected

15. when xie lian was blown away by the sandstorm at ban yue pass and accidentally grabbed onto him he only said: gege there you are don't fly away again

16. literally sucked venom out of xie lian's hand and then proceeded to explode the snake that stung him

17. made sure to give xie lian the ferns that did not grow with humans as fertiliser to heal his hand bc he knew he would feel bad about that

18. killed hundreds of ghosts at ban yue pass in seconds before xie lian came down there

19. protected him from the snakes leaving mu qing alone to fight them

20. taught xie lian how to play dice just to hold his hands bc the motherfucker definitely just changed the dice himself

21. he gave xie lian dice that would always bring him to xie lian as long as he wanted to see him

22. when he fought with qianqiu and accidently hurt xie lian he felt so bad

23. eming was crying actual tears

24. he came into the heavenly capital to take xie lian away immediately bc he rolled the dice he gave him and he wanted to see him

25. once he saw how much qianqiu didn’t know about the gilded banquet he took them to qi rong's lair and forced him to tell the whole story so there would be no misunderstandings

26. he built a literal temple in the ghost city for xie lian specifically for the mid autumn festival so he could "make things interesting" for xie lian's "amusement"

27. he lit up 3000 blessings lanterns for xie lian from the temple he made in the ghost city

28. spent billions in gold to get the lanterns

29. *twice*

30. he captured the fetus ghost before xie lian bc he couldn’t let him hurt himself and to do so kissed him in the pretence that they shouldn't have their mouths open

31. brought xie lian back to paradise manor and instantly made him feel so comfortable that he actually let his pain show while removing the needle he'd stepped on

32. he went to puqi village to bring xie lian’s hat back bc he mentioned it while rambling after their first kiss

33. he cleaned puqi shrine and took qi rong out of the house along with the rest of the trash

34. when he saw he xuan come in with qingxuan he threatened him bc he didn't want xie lian involved with the whole thing with he xuan and the wind and water masters

35. got his people to watch over qi rong and lowkey lang ying and guzi and also probably to look after the shrine while they would be away with qingxuan and he xuan

36. when xie lian FINALLY asked for his private communication array password his eyes legit twinkled

37. he purposefully set his password to sth very much embarrassing so that no one but xie lian would dare reach him

38. the only time xie lian actually used it himself was when he was legit imprisoned by jun wu

39. he actually found xie lian's password funny and the poor thing got the validation he wanted for his joke after 800 years of having this password

40. he constantly changed outfits to watch xie lian struggle to keep his eyes off him

41. while qingxuan was in xie lian’s body he wouldn’t hurt him so he punched he xuan into the ground to release his frustration

42. totally sailed across black water's domain with xie lian's dead body in a coffin

43. the worst suffering for him is watching his beloved get trampled and ridiculed which he experienced when xie lian descended and the people turned against him

44. also watched him get stabbed a hundred times

45. and saw him drunk in a graveyard crying and breaking down

46. he thought he hadn't won xie lian over yet but he had even though xie lian himself hadn't realised it yet

47. he made a new donation box for xie lian while shirtless and sweating even though he's a literal ghost and doesn't sweat

48. he pretended to be unconscious even though as mentioned he's a literal ghost just so he could have a laugh and totally freaked out when xie lian attempted to perform cpr *on a literal ghost*

49. proposed to xie lian and for some reason said he was kidding

50. he’d already given xie lian his ring and wore the string of fate (smooth bro)

51. built a coffin to safely cross the sea with xie lian and successfully caused him a boner (erectile dysfunction cured great success)

52. went along with xie lian to the east sea to protect him from black water but still didn't interfere with his choices

53. when xie lian did the soul switch he sucked his power from his body so that he could bring xie lian's soul back and again freaked out when xie lian kissed him to get the powers back

54. he only practices writing with a specific poem that specifically describes the specific feelings he has for xie lian

55. when he lost control of himself he *intensely* kissed xie lian and afterwards he was so worried that he had hurt him

56. he turned into lang ying even though xie lian told him to not be with eachother for now since they would both be busy

57. even though he was with him he sent the litter to carry them

58. had yin yu gather all the ghosts and the clothes while searching for the brocade immortal so that xie lian could work faster

59. he tattooed xie lian's name on his arm but his handwriting is so awful even xie lian himself couldn't tell what was written for the longest time

60. he ignored xie lian telling him to not do all the chores and did them for him while maintaining lang ying's form

61. he refused to change even when it was clear that xie lian had figured it out and was struggling to write whatever he’d asked him

62. he tried to make himself look good when xie lian asked him who is the prettiest, strongest etcetc

63. he was definitely crying tears of joy whenever xie lian picked him up and told him who cute he was

64. he shared his ✨feelings✨ about looking weaker than he is and feeling powerless

65. did not want xie lian to have to protect him but still listened to him and accepted the help

66. went with xie lian to mount tong'lu to protect him and make sure no one messed up with him

67. he told xie lian anything he wanted to know about whatever they encountered at mount tong'lu

68. he changed the bloody rain to red flower petals so he wouldn’t get xie lian wet

69. he brought him under his umbrella and shielded him from the boulders refusing to help anyone else

70. he tied THE FUCKING RED STRING OF FATE to xie lian's finger to make sure the two would always find their way back to each other

71. he quoted a line from the oldest known chinese novella literally meaning "not even death can do us part"

72. he showed xie lian what happened between yin yu and qi ying so he could better understand their situation

73. he was very ok to just hang around inside the mountain and told xie lian that if it was with him he wouldn't mind staying there

74. he heard and comforted xie lian's worries about his guoshi and told him exactly what he needed to hear

75. it later helped xie lian remain calmer when the identity of white no-face was about to be revealed

76. when the rest of their group where being loud he told them to shut the fuck up bc xie lian was sleeping

77. when pei ming was being a little shit and commented on the red string tied on their fingers he covered it with an illusion

78. then he showed it to xie lian who was worried that it was gone completely

79. he said to xie lian: "i know you can’t die, and you’re not afraid to die, but no matter how tough you are, don’t think yourself incapable of getting hurt.”

80. and: “not dying doesn’t mean not getting hurt, and it definitely doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. when you see something strange and dangerous, don’t just touch it. find me. let me take care of it.”

81. when xie lian replied with: “...you too. if there’s something dangerous, you don’t touch, i won’t touch either, alright?” he was downright giddy, giggling, eyes twinkling, hair twirling

82. he built tens of thousands of statues and painted all of his encounters with xie lian throughout the years

83. he also sculpted the two of them boning (my guy was so sexually deprived)

84. he was so so scared when they ended up in the cave bc he didn't want to make xie lian uncomfortable in any way

85. he never wanted to make any kind of move that would frighten xie lian

86. he healed xie lian's frostbite wounds that even xie lian himself hadn't noticed

87. honestly can't separate the moments at this point the man is a ball of affection

88. when xie lian hugged him and showed him that his feelings were reciprocated he said: "your highness, you really will be the death of me." BRO IS LEGIT LIVING IN A SAKUATSU FIC WHAT THE FUCK

89. his eyes would not stop twinkling the whole time xie lian held his hand

90. he was in such a good mood that he didn't even say anything *extremely* insulting to mu qing and feng xin

91. he is just a little bby

92. he loves xie lian so much

93. when xie lian asked him about his ashes he once again said that they were absolutely safe and if the place he kept them was destroyed he wouldn't want to continue existing anyway

94. he basically turned into a ghost for the sole purpose of protecting xie lian and being with him

95. he twirls his little braid and fidgets with the coral pearl from xie lian's earring

96. he KISSED xie lian before they jumped into the kiln and this time without any false pretence of "transferring powers” or performing cpr" *once again on a literal ghost*

97. his spirit stayed in the mortal realm after dying in battle for xie lian and when he saw him told him once again that he will never forget him

98. also referred to xie lian as his beloved

99. also said that he wanted to protect him

100. and that he is his most devoted believer

101. and if his beloved felt bad that he stayed to protect them he would just not tell them

102. very slay of him

103. he was still so young there i-

104. they are the death of me

105. in the form of a literal ball of ghost fire he followed xie lian and did his best to warm him up and protect him even though he couldn't do that in that form

106. when white no-face held him and forced him to stay still while people stabbed xie lian a hundred times he couldn't take it and transformed into a vengeful spirit

107. he found xie lian in yong’an and offered to fight for him again as wu ming

108. while in yong'an he protected xie lian multiple times

109. the best and most beautiful statue of xie lian he built was inside the kiln and ended up being the one that broke xie lian out thanks to the powers he’d transferred to him

110. he continues to give xie lian spiritual powers by sticking his tongue down his throat and xie lian is going for it ofc

111. sent out his people to find the humans xie lian needed for the spiritual array

112. immediately noticed someone extra joined the array and told xie lian to check it out

113. when xie lian had to go to the heavenly capital with jun wu and his guoshi he asked him for a kiss bc staying back to take care of the spirits and the people in the array was just so hard to do without

🎐🍒🔥✨gege✨🔥🍒🎐 at his side

114. when xie lian connected with him through the spiritual communication array he instantly knew sth was wrong bc xie lian would never say his password unless it was an emergency

115. he gave qingxuan spiritual powers to have a way to connect with xie lian and sent help immediately

116. came to the heavenly capital despite knowing that jun wu would find him

117. talked with xie lian's guoshi and even spoke respectfully to him *mostly*

118. he sent he xuan to the array to give qingxuan his fan and transfer powers maybe bc xie lian cares for him or maybe bc he tolerates qingxuan *guess we’ll never know*

119. let's be honest from this point on, even more than the rest, every moment should be added

120. the man is a ball of love

121. he quoted himself while he was evaporating into butterflies because he's just such a poet and a romantic

122. he dies 3 times for xie lian

123. three

124. separate

125. times

126. he came back on the same day they first met

127. he lit another 3000 blessing lanterns for xie lian

128. "they spent eight hundred years running towards each other. this time, it only took an instant to fall into each other’s embrace."

129. he turned puqi shrine into a gay monument to xie lian

130. he left an essence of evil inside xie lian *successfuly caused mu qing and feng xin strokes*

131. he asks xie lian to call him 🧧🥟🗡️✨san lang✨🗡️🥟🧧 bc it means husband so xie lian has been calling him his husband all along

132. he got spoiled by xie lian and tried to bone every chance he got *fair*

133. when someone goes to pray to either one of them, for the prayers to be successful they must pray to both of them *together*

134. treated xie lian to yuanxiao and he finally remembered how it tasted after 800 years

135. he was definitely shaking from happiness when the answers to the riddles from the ghosts wrote "my husband is hua cheng" *even though the ghosts didn't know grammar*

136. when xie lian temporarily lost his memories he followed him everywhere to keep an eye on him

137. it's implied that mu qing and feng xin found him to tell him the situation with xie lian and then he went to find him so maybe he trusts them more now

138. he immediately sent yin yu to capture the creature that ate xie lian's memories

139. he loved every second of making fun of him

140. he made xie lian call him 🧧🥟🗡️✨gege✨🗡️🥟🧧

141. you bet his eye was twinkling the whole time

142. eming is used to taking baths with xie lian but when he went to him while he didn't have his memories hua cheng slapped it *save eming*

143. when he got sick he didn't want xie lian to have to take care of him but they talked about it and agreed to let the other take care of them whenever they needed it

144. when the whole fiasco with xie lian’s statues happened they made statues of hua cheng to keep them company

145. he has given up on learning calligraphy since he can just turn xie lian on and he forgets about everything

146. no one is doing it like them

147. hua cheng is insane for all of this

148. and very valid bc xie lian is gorgeous

if anyone made it here here's some tgcf playlists i'm quite proud of

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