#but for the past few generations my family all trace back to the same place and that place was ironworks and steelworks and coal mining by

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

Can't stop thinking about a poll I reblogged this morning where the answers implied that OP saw people in the recent past as either being: Farmers Therefore Poor or Anything Else Therefore Wealthy.

I'm trying to figure out where in the world that could be true because like my family have all lived in the same 140 square mile area for generations and there ain't been a farm here for them to work on for generations.

[linkemon]

You're in the wind, I'm in the water (Dan Heng x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴅᴀɴ ꜰᴇɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ, ᴅᴀɴ ʜᴇɴɢ ɪꜱ ᴡɪɴ��. ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴡɪɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʀꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ʀᴇꜰʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴅᴀɴ ʜᴇɴɢ ᴡʜᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴊᴇᴄᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ].

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛꜱ ɪɴ xɪᴀɴᴢʜᴏᴜ ʟᴜᴏꜰᴜ.

Dan Heng felt as if the last few days had passed like a kaleidoscope. A colourful mirage of emotions he didn't want to feel. Events that took all his strength out of him. Memories that weren't his and yet they haunted him like the ghosts of the elders in the Scalegorge Waterscape. 

Only now, sitting by one of the waterfalls, did he get the impression that he finally had a moment of peace, torn away by the clawed claws of an evil fate. The quiet sound of the water was nothing like the voices of the soldiers who had encountered the mara a few days ago. 

It took him a long time to realize a simple fact — he chose a place where HE would come. A typical source of water from which he could draw strength. He smiled bitterly and turned his back. There was no point in running away from here. Even if the beauty surrounding him suddenly turned ugly, leaving an unpleasant aftertaste. 

His stay in Xianzhou Luofu turned his life upside down. The past had long legs. He ran as hard as he could but in the end it was faster. It caught him in a place he didn't want to return to. He wished that the wind playing in the branches of the twisted trees would blow away all thoughts from his head. Especially the one he had doubts about. 

[Reader]. She flooded his mind like a wave. He rejected his past. He drew a line between himself and Dan Feng. The title of Imbibitor Lunae was no longer his. He was sure Bailu would do just fine. She kept Luofu safe. He left all the residents in good hands. He told everyone his name was Dan Heng. Many still saw him as a previous incarnation. And even though it hurt like old wounds, he rejected their opinions. The express crew were his family and they didn't care about the sins of who he once was. Only their opinion mattered. At least that's what he thought.

Jing Yuan, although he wasn't like Blade, stuck to his previous name quite stubbornly. At least he was aware that the general was doing it out of habit, not out of pure hatred. Something he couldn't say about the old Yingxing. [Reader] was neither of them. She called him Dan Heng from the very beginning. Sometimes he wondered if they met after all of this, if she would still hold on to it. If she hadn't stood next to Sushang that day and met him first as an archivist, would she still have had reservations? Although he wasn't Dan Feng in her mouth, he was Dan Feng in her eyes. He had seen it in every conversation they had ever had since the truth came out and she managed to recognize him. 

Her eyes traced the pointy ears and followed the emerald horns even when they weren't there. She involuntarily talked about the things that Dan Feng loved. She recalled the times when he was still next to her, becoming embarrassed rather quickly when she realized what she was doing. He would interrupt anyone else who was doing it. This double standard only existed with her and it was eating him from the inside. 

Dan Heng bit his lip. He was like a gust that sometimes met the water. He rushed over the surface and saw his reflection but he was not a lake. What a strange feeling it was to be and not be loved at the same time. [Reader] loved his reflection. He could show it for a short while for her but no matter what he did, he couldn't become water because he was wind. 

It wasn't that he wanted to become Dan Feng. He hated his previous incarnation. Who he was and what he did. His predecessor followed him step by step, reminding him of himself and not letting him be who he wanted. But why did [Reader] have to be in love with him? In that hidden part of himself that he never wanted to become. 

This love was like a sea current. The swift current seemed to carry him away without any hope. And maybe because it resembled water, he wondered if it was his feelings, or maybe the remnants of the attachment of a former self that he had tried so hard to let go of. After all, they had known each other for such a short time, and he, as he deeply wanted to believe, was not a man who would give his feelings to anyone he came across. On the other hand, March immediately noticed that he was in love and said it was obvious. So maybe it was him after all? 

Dan Heng from [Reader] didn't sound like Dan Feng. Even if it was hiding behind it. Maybe he could pretend to be like him? He turned back towards the waterfall and looked at his reflection. Ripples in the water obscured his vision.

He wouldn't. He didn't want to be him. Never. Even for her. 

So maybe she could pretend? After all, he looked similar and had a fraction of his former power... 

He shook his head. Not at this price. Neither of them would be happy. 

At least he had memories. Even if they weren't his. Glimmers of light amidst the dark void of forgotten days. Sometimes they came back involuntarily. He hated the echo of Dan Feng's laughter, even though he felt like the joy was his own, but he loved [Reader's] laughter. Her silhouette looming somewhere under his eyelids. The same one that came back to him when they sat on the stairs after sunset after a hard day's work. The warmth of her lips, once so close, now within reach but at the same time eons away. How easy it was to lose himself in this old reality that was not his own. In that which interspersed his nightmares with sweet peace.

But these were stories of bygone days from several hundred years ago and he had to constantly remind himself that they did not belong to him. 

The sound of familiar footsteps sounded on the path. The wind brought the sound of trampled leaves. He didn't need to turn around to know who was standing there. Of course she figured out where to look for him. This was the place HE would came to. 

— Dan Feng. 

This was the first time something like this had happened. Until now, she had always been careful not to use his pre-reincarnation name. 

Maybe it was the sight of him surrounded by a familiar waterfall. Or one of the memories gnawed by the teeth of time, which now came to life in her eyes. He couldn't find it among the dark depths of his memory. If it existed, it belonged only to her. It was probably even better that way. This made "Dan Heng, not Dan Feng " easier to leave his mouth.

He wasn't ready for the regret that appeared on [Reader's] face. Nor for a tear that gathered in the corner of the eye, only to quickly disappear under a hard-blinking eyelid in confusion. However, he did not expect the feelings that spread around his heart even more. Jealousy, sadness and nostalgia of days gone by. He never found out if they really belonged to him. They were floating somewhere on the transparent surface of water, touched by the gust of wind.

[robin-the-blind-sniper-rifle]

As a former dedicated member of the TWD fandom, I give you part of my Stranger Things/Walking Dead crossover. This is Ronance endgame, and Steddie too. If anyone’s interested in this, I’ll keep going.

xxxxxx

December 15th, 1983

The streets of downtown Hawkins were deathly quiet. Brown leaves swirled around in circles, piles of them collecting on the curbs. Barely a sound echoed in the still air, no sound beyond a soft, rasping breath.

Nancy relaxed her fingers against the notch of her bow, relishing the sound the arrow made as it sank deep into its target. Swinging the weapon back over her shoulder, Nancy gave her surroundings a once over before moving to retrieve her arrow.

Once she was certain she was alone, she dashed into the middle of Main Street. Leaning down with expert speed, she pulled the arrow swiftly out of her kill, ignoring the squelch it made before wiping it on her shirt. Nancy loaded the bow again, adjusting her hair so that it sat higher and away from her back.

Hawkins was empty this time. She had a feeling.

“I thought we were meant to be hunting today.”

Nancy scoffed, turning around to face a lanky, brown haired boy. He was carrying a large backpack full of supplies and a map he had been charting for them for the past few weeks.

“We were meant to be hunting? I think you mean me, Johnathan.”

Johnathan rolled his eyes. “Same difference.”

Nancy pointed to the body by her feet, shoving it with her heel for good measure. “Same difference goes for biters, then. The less of them there are around here, the better. Fuckers can sneak up on you at any time.”

Johnathan glared at her. “We knew some of these people at one point, Nance. Don’t you think it's a bit callous to treat them like monsters?”

Nancy sighed, looking off into the distance. She didn’t want to have this conversation with him for the hundredth time. It wasn’t particularly easy to put a bolt through your English teacher’s head, but it was either that or have your face ripped off.

“They *are* monsters, John. They’re not people anymore. Besides, what if…what if one of ours comes back? Shouldn’t this place be clear for them?”

Johnathan pursed his lips, but said nothing. Instead, he turned back to his map, furrowing his brow as he looked at the X’s they had marked in every direction. He pulled a pen out of his back pocket and made two small lines across what looked like a doodle of the general store.

“That’s the last one on Main Street, it looks like. It took awhile to clear it out, but I think we’re all set for heading out. We’ve taken what we can carry and boarded up a stash of supplies in case we ever need to come back.”

He glanced at her, his eyes filled with sympathy and an equal, resigned acceptance. “We’ve done all we can for them, Nance. I wouldn’t blame them for not coming back here. They don’t know we’ve been taking the biters out, they probably think the place is still overrun.”

Nancy sighed, not wanting to admit he was right. It had been a month since everything had fallen apart, and Nancy and Johnathan were the only living left in Hawkins. The people that managed to get out scattered in a mad panic, taking what they could and leaving the rest behind.

Some didn’t make it.

Others went missing.

Johnathan’s entire family had been separated in the chaos. The only reason they were sure his mother and little brother had made it was because they hadn’t been forced to kill them a second time. As long as there wasn’t any evidence to prove otherwise, they had a chance of being alive.

Nancy wasn’t so lucky.

Her mother was among the first to go, turning naturally in her sleep and moving straight for her father. In the terror, Holly was also taken, since her room was the closest to their parents. Nancy survived purely on instinct and her adrenaline driven action of stumbling down the stairs and grabbing her mother’s largest steak knife.

Mike’s room was empty except for a large pool of blood seeping into the center of his carpet. Nancy hadn’t seen any trace of him since the night before the end, and she could only assume the worst if he was on his own.

Nancy didn’t like the idea of leaving home without Mike, but there was nothing left worth saving. Resources were already running low, and Nancy noticed that the deer she brought down were growing scarcer every day. Johnathan eventually convinced her that their time would be better spent looking for their people instead of waiting, and Nancy agreed that it was logical enough to move forward.

What Johnathan didn’t know was that she was also looking for someone else.

Someone who should have been in his place, but wasn’t.

Because she screwed it up.

Nancy shook her head, determined not to waste any more time. She slung her crossbow over her shoulder, checking right her hip to make sure she still had her knife, and her left to check the pistol she took from her father’s drawer. It was time to get the fuck out of here.

“Are we still traveling on foot?”

Johnathan nodded. He had pulled out the map of Indiana instead of Hawkins, scanning it with a discerning eye. “I’d say we should avoid the freeways if we can. There will be more biters the closer we are to the city. If we’re following your plan with the trees, the forests should be our best bet.”

Nancy made a noise of agreement. “As long as we have those ropes from the War Zone and tie our shit up properly, it should be a safe bet.”

Her idea for sleeping at night, because traveling tired was like shooting yourself in the foot, was to sleep in the tall pine trees of the Indiana forests and tie their waists to the middle so they wouldn’t fall to their deaths.

“Right.” Johnathan shifted awkwardly, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Spit it out. We need to move before dark. What are you trying to say?”

“I-I left a note. In my old house. In case they come back.”

She nodded, not wanting to entertain hope the way he did.

“I wrote Mike’s name down, too.”

Nancy looked at him, keeping her expression neutral. She had never seen herself pairing up with Johnathan Byers for anything, had never even talked to him before he’d shown up on her doorstep, covered in blood and looking for Will. She hadn’t expected they would stick together, that he would have given her the time of day.

But he had. And now they were searching for the same people.

Nancy bit her lip, clearing her throat. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

Johnathan gave her one of his small, rueful smiles. “I did. He’s just a kid. They both are.”

She nodded, willing herself not to lose her composure.

So were we.

[caxycreations]

Character Intro: Moss Seltz

Moss Seltz is a grey-blue caxy with dark marks around his forest-colored eyes. They have the same color of fur on their hands, in a fingerless glove style marking that extends a few inches up the arm from the wrist. Their hair is a light reddish-brown, and they have several piercings. They have a thick, dark lower lip which bears a lip ring, a dark nose with a septum ring, and ten piercings in each ear.

As of the start of Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den, Moss is sixteen years old, living with Davina in her high-rise apartment in the city of Gala. Moss is biologically male, and uses they/them pronouns, though does accept others being used so long as it is from a place of love or sincerity rather than maliciousness.

Moss grew up in foster care, bouncing from home to home, many of which were either neglectful, abusive, or both. They ran away several times during their life in foster care, only to find themselves right back in the thick of it. This cycle repeated until they were fourteen years old. The previous year, the system underwent a re-evaluation of their methods of pairing foster child with foster parents, as well as their system of adoptions.

Their life changed quite a bit with this, as the new system required prospective parents to undergo comprehensive psychological analysis, and complete several evaluations, to be screened for any red flags and for assurance they were fit to be parents. With this change, the risk of Moss being paired with a family unfit to raise them were drastically reduced, and through this new system they met Davina Seltz (TW: Artistic Nudity).

Moss was paired with her as a potential parent and child, with Davina meeting Moss but once before deciding what she wanted. With Moss in agreement, papers were signed and they began their new life as Moss Seltz.

Under Davina's guidance, Moss grew to be an independent, caring, and kind-hearted free spirit, learning from Davina and Trace Parker, who came to visit quite regularly. They are much like their adopted mother: nearly shameless, playful, flirty, caring. Moss is also their own brand of generous, kind-hearted, and in some ways, wild and carefree.

They enjoy watching Trace run, and hope to join them in those races soon enough. They have also, through Davina's parenting, grown fond of the local clubs and dance halls, often joining her on nights out. Moss also worships the god Malor quite devotedly, tending to the small shrine in their bedroom once or twice a week, offering stories as gifts to the Fate Scribe, and praying to them regularly.

Moss' Blessing is luck-based, with those around them finding themselves less prone to bad luck, with direct interaction leaving one's bad luck effectively null. While this does not imply giving them good luck, misfortunes they may have suffered otherwise are less likely to happen, or will be less severe should they happen anyway.

Overall, Moss is a well-rounded individual with a heart of gold, raised to never be anything less than wholly themselves. While their past has left them scarred, and some things still set off those conditioned responses and flight reactions, they are slowly working towards being okay with the help of their new family, and are on the path to finding their way in the world.

Credits

Moss Seltz is the original creation of @that-one-enby-onyx, and I am only putting their intro on my blog because they are directly tied to Tylvinian Tales and the characters therein. All credit for Moss' background and concept goes to Onyx.

Tag List

Tagging these folks cause they seem to like my work! If you would like to be added (or removed), just let me know!

@sparrowcraft @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker @snakelovingnerd @the-chaotic-writer @leisoree @amerylise

[baiyunli]

hi yun! hope you're doing well :) i was wondering if you still have plans to release the farmwife au?? i love your work so much, "maybe it was me who brought you here" is one of my fav fics ever <3

hey anon!!! sorry for the late reply. i've actually been meaning to make a more formal post about this, but i've been active fairly sporadically over the past few months and wanted to say that i'm going to be phasing out of my fandom stuff in the next while. i won't be posting anything on my ao3 and probably won't be around much, if at all, on tumblr going forward for various real-life reasons.

i've put a few scenes of farmwife au under the cut for your enjoyment, because in all likelihood nothing will be getting posted, but thank you for enjoying my writing!!! it's so lovely to hear <3 i hope you like these last offerings of this au!!! if anyone wants to pick up the idea or anything, you're more than welcome to it.

Nico places the advertisement in March, once the roads into town thaw out. The cold snap broke just last week, and he’d spent fair hours holed up in the kitchen by the stove, writing out the advertisement in his notebook, then copying it on nicer paper. He gave a thought to mailing NIna first, so she could fix it before he sent it off, but the summer work will become demanding soon enough and he’d rather have a second pair of hands around to help as soon as possible.

A homesteader and dairy farmer living thirty minutes west of town seeking a partner ready for family life to live and work with me. I am twenty-four years old and would prefer someone of similar age. Please reply if interested.

He reads the advertisement over hundreds of times. He had taken great pains to cross out anything overly specific, anything that would point to him having already imagined the kind of partner he wanted: someone with a kind smile, someone who loved adventure, who would make the sort of food Nico's mother did when he was a child.

Finally, he rides into town and files the advertisement with the newspaper. For the next few weeks, there is no news: he makes small talk at the general store when he picks up salt pork and oats, goes to church on Sundays where he hears about the new schoolhouse being built. And still, no responses.

It isn’t until early April when the postmaster sets a pile of letters on the counter and says, “Some mail for you,” that it begins to set in. That evening, Nico sits by the fire to sift through the responses, and it quickly becomes painfully clear that the vast majority were not delivered of the senders’ own volitions. 

He reads the line “my father hoped that I would find a husband soon” too many times to count, and feels a sense of pity for the daughters enduring their fathers’ efforts to marry them off. And then, at the bottom of the pile: a scrap of paper folded over twice, the name Jack Hughes signed painstakingly on the outside. The handwriting inside is uneven, but careful all the same. 

I saw your notice in the Leader-Telegram and thought I might write in, Jack Hughes says. I’m a good worker, and my family’s farm is getting busy. I wouldn’t mind moving further out west to live with you. I’m the best of my brothers at butter churning, if that helps. My ma and older brother are sitting with me while I write this—they say I should warn you about my cooking. I’ve never been very skilled in the kitchen, he adds, but I can learn, and I’d like to raise a family someday soon. Please write back soon. Yours, Jack Hughes.

Nico reads the note once, twice. He folds it back up along the same creases and tucks it into his shirt pocket, where he imagines it thrumming like a promise, beating in time with his heart. 

The next morning when he goes out to milk the cows, he reads it again, tracing over the letters of Jack Hughes’ name. I’d like to raise a family someday soon. It isn’t the most eloquent of the responses that Nico receives, not by far, but something about how earnest he sounds, the simplicity of it—Nico sits down that night to write back.

Hello, he says, first. Thank you for your reply. I believe I may have heard of you in passing; there is news of your family in town often. If you would like to get to know each other better, I can tell you about myself.

He writes of his family, of learning English as a child. Of building the house himself and the wildflowers that grow around his homestead, the ring of violets he often rides past on the journey into town. Of all he has done to make the house more comfortable for the coming summer. It is not large, but I think you may find it cozy.

He hears from Jack again hardly a week later, with more enthusiasm than Nico had imagined. Jack responds with stories about his brothers and asks Nico to teach him his native language, adds my ma tried to teach me Latin, but I was always dreadful at it. 

Nico thinks of Jack saying it cheerily, his eyes bright, and writes back: I would be happy to teach you, when we meet properly.

He still does not know what Jack looks like, but he makes small talk with the woman behind the counter at the general store every week, and she tells him what a lovely family the Hughes make. “And the middle boy is beautiful—beyond compare, I’d venture to claim,” she says. “I know plenty of the young ladies and men in town have been hoping he might attend a church social this summer.” 

The correspondence lasts for a month. Every letter seems like another stroke added to the portrait of Jack in Nico’s head, ready to take shape, fully formed—curls framing his face, blue eyes that look like the prairie sky, a penchant for freckles in the summer. Jack tells Nico about berry-picking and how much he’s always loved children, about his recent efforts at cooking. Hope blooms in Nico’s heart like snap peas after the last snowfall. 

He throws caution to the wind and finally writes, should you be interested in coming to live with me soon, I would be more than pleased to arrive next Saturday and meet your family. Space for your trousseau is of no concern—bring as many trunks as you would like. There is plenty of room in the wagon.

After they decide on Saturday morning for Nico to call on him, the gravity of the situation dawns sharp and bright. Nico looks around the snug kitchen and hopes Jack won’t find it suffocating; he surveys the bedroom, with the soft quilt that Nina had sewn from his childhood clothing and blankets, and the pasteboard wallpaper with painted roses, and tries to see it through Jack’s eyes. 

The Hughes family home is well-decorated and fairly grand, by all accounts. Nico has no illusions about the size of his homestead, but he’s done all he can to make it comfortable, and he can only pray that Jack won’t mind that the walls creak during windstorms or the cramped furniture in the kitchen, table tucked up in the corner to make room for the stove.

That Friday is a whirlwind. Nina visits, even though Nico hadn’t asked—she brings one of their mother’s cakes and helps him whitewash the cellar and air out the straw-tick mattresses, blacken the stove and hang up the laundry on the clothesline. Every inch of the house is sparkling, and Nico has put up the mare with plenty of water and hay to prepare her for the long ride tomorrow.

“Are you worried?” asks Nina, setting out the now-dry tablecloth. 

Nico closes his eyes. “Yes,” he admits bluntly. “But mostly that he—will not find the house livable. Or he will not take a liking to me. He may realize that his interest was unfounded, after all.” And Nico thinks that will hurt more than if he had not written back to Jack in the first place. He feels as if he practically knows Jack, but not whether Jack feels the same towards him, too.

“If he doesn’t, he won’t understand what he is walking away from,” Nina tells him. “But he seems very agreeable, from his letters. And from the talk around town,” she adds. “Someone must have caught wind that you plan to marry this summer. The dressing room at church was wholly abuzz with the knowledge.”

“If he still wishes to marry me after we meet,” Nico points out, and Nina rounds on him, wringing out a dishcloth.

“Nico,” she says firmly. “He will. It is no use worrying about this. If he did not hope to love you, he would not have continued to write back for so many weeks. Be reasonable.”

He looks at the floor, chastened. “I know.” Still, Nina’s reassurance does not curb the growing anxiety in his stomach, the hours he lies awake that night: hoping against all hope that he will measure up to anything near what Jack had imagined him to be.

--

Nico arrives at the Hughes homestead early on Saturday, dressed in his church clothes and with his hair combed, still slightly damp. He hesitates before knocking on the front door, surveying the vast plot of farmland that surrounds the house. Their wheat is growing well, he notices, and he may have to ask for advice on cultivating seed crops.

But the door swings open, then—and Nico is suddenly face to face with who he knows must be Jack Hughes.

“Hello,” he says, taking his hat off and holding it to his chest. He swallows, his throat dry. “You must be Jack.”

Jack curtsies slightly and looks up at Nico, shy. His eyelashes are long, curling up as they frame his wide blue eyes. His dress is a fine muslin, wine-dark burgundy with a feathery print. “I am,” he says. “I must confess that I looked forward to finally meeting you, Mr. Hischier.”

“Please call me Nico,” he says, and watches Jack’s cheeks pinken prettily. “And the pleasure is all mine.”

Jack smiles. A curl of hair falls into his face and he brushes it aside absently. “You are much more handsome than I had expected,” he tells Nico quickly, as if he had not quite meant to let on the sentiment. 

Nico laughs, and it seems to break the tension between them. “I do not hope to know what you had expected me to look like, then,” he teases, and Jack giggles.

“Not as sharply dressed, perhaps. And not as tall,” he says. “Or with dimples. Why, my younger brother tried to convince me you might have been lying about your age. He thought you must have been a bachelor of three-and-forty, come to steal me away.”

“Luke?” asks Nico. When Jack nods, he adds, “Well, Luke may be disappointed to learn that I am not close to forty years of age, not quite yet. And I hope the second part of his assumption may be proven false.”

“I told him he was full of it,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. He steps forward, closing the distance between them; this close, he has to tilt his head up to meet Nico’s gaze. A soft lock of hair curls over his ear. “He is tired of hearing me wax poetic about your letters.”

Nico is not sure what compels him to take Jack’s hand, but he holds it between his and runs his thumb over the finger where a ring might sit, soon. Jack’s hands are slender, lightly calloused from embroidering. “I am glad to hear that you enjoyed them half as much as I enjoyed yours.”

Jack laughs. “My brothers were not fortunate enough to hear the end of it, I’m afraid,” he admits. “I read each of your letters aloud five times, at least.” He blinks and says, “Oh! My apologies—it slipped my mind to invite you inside.” Nico steps in after him, sits down on the chesterfield when Jack shows him to the front parlor. 

Jack gathers his skirts and tells Nico, “My brothers will be here in a moment. Let me get my luggage and we can depart soon.”

He disappears down the corridor, skirts swishing behind him. Nico folds his hands in his lap, but it’s hardly a minute before another boy appears, long and lanky, a mop of curls on his head, who Nico guesses must be Luke. “Mr. Hischier,” Luke acknowledges with a tilt of his head. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Nico says. 

“You may be waiting here several hours for Jack to finish packing,” Luke tells him. “He misplaces his belongings often—you’ll have to hope that he has not forgotten where he put all his best clothes.”

Nico laughs. “It is no trouble,” he answers, truthfully. “I do not have any commitments today. I had hoped to meet your parents, though. To receive their blessing, if I may be lucky enough.”

Luke nods. “Pa should be coming in soon. Ma often visits with the women at the parlor at this time, but she was plenty charmed by your letters,” he says. “And the advertisement. She told Jack that he should write in, if he wanted to. He had not planned on doing so.”

Nico smiles. “I suppose I should have to thank her, then. Jack’s letter was a welcome surprise for me, and most of the others were not exactly compelling.”

“It surprises me that you found Jack’s letter compelling,” Luke remarks lightly. “He has not been known for his composition prowess.”

Jack, hurrying back into the parlor with a hat box, says admonishingly, “Luke. Please excuse him, Mr. Hisch—Nico,” he corrects himself. “Ma didn’t quite teach him all his table manners.”

Nico stands. “It is no trouble,” he reassures Jack. “I understand how brothers often are.”

“Your brother—Luca?” asks Jack. He sets down the hat box on the side table. “I hope, for your sake, he is not much like mine.”

“He is not,” Nico allows. “But he rarely passes up an opportunity to tease me, all the same.”

Jack laughs. “I suppose it escapes my notice, what one could possibly tease you about. I doubt you have many moments of mortification.”

“And you do?” Nico asks teasingly.

Luke interrupts, “Well, just last week he—”

“Luke Hughes,” says Mrs. Hughes, walking into the parlor. “Please think carefully about scaring off our guest. My apologies,” she says as she turns to greet Nico. “I had not been sure about what time you might arrive. I hope you and Jack have been introduced well?”

“Perfectly, thank you,” Nico answers. “For me, at least. Whether Jack feels the same—”

“Yes,” says Jack, quickly. “Yes. Nico has been wonderful.”

Mrs. Hughes smiles. “Good. I know how excited Jack was to meet you,” she tells Nico. “He spent all yesterday evening trying to tame his hair and steam his clothing.”

Nico laughs. “I was doing the same,” he acknowledges. “My sister visited with me yesterday, to clean the house for today.”

He is spared the embarrassment of being asked the size and comfort of his homestead by the arrival of Mr. Hughes. Jack disappears again to pack his trousseau and, from the sound of it, find his hairpins; Nico speaks to Mr. Hughes about his crop yield while Jack dashes around looking for newsprint to stuff his trunk.

“Take care of him,” says Mrs. Hughes when the luggage has been loaded into the wagon. “And visit often.”

Nico nods, an arm around Jack’s waist. “We will,” he promises. “Thank you for trusting me with Jack. I swear I will give him everything I am capable of. I hope he will want for nothing,” he continues.

Jack steps closer to him, takes hold of Nico’s hand and squeezes. “Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I hope for the same.”

“Tell us as soon as you have a date for the wedding,” Quinn chips in. “Ma will want to plan everything.”

“That may be for a later time, I’m afraid,” says Nico with a sheepish smile. “I would like to make sure Jack gets settled in first.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Hughes allows. “You had better set off soon, then, to get back in time for dinner. Why, it’s almost noon already!”

Nico helps Jack into the front seat, his skirts rustling as he steps up into the carriage, before he gets seated himself and takes the reins. 

“Write to me,” Jack says desperately, turning back to his family. “Whenever you can.”

Luke scoffs. “You’ll only be thirty minutes from town. Won’t we see you at church, anyhow?”

“Still,” Jack insists. “I want to hear everything.”

Nico coughs lightly. “We should be going,” he says. “I’ll have to tend to the sheep before the sun becomes too bright.”

Jack flushes. “I apologize. I just—” he swallows, the hitch of his throat nervous, uncertain. “I suppose I hadn’t thought about how much I would miss my family.”

“I understand,” says Nico softly, dwelling too long on the curl of Jack’s fingers into his palms, how the tilt of his mouth has gone too unsure for Nico’s liking. “We can visit next weekend,” he assures Jack. “You will see them plenty.”

Jack brightens. “Alright,” he says, seemingly comforted.

And the wagon rolls away, Jack waving to his family and calling, “Goodbye! Goodbye!” until the Hughes house shrinks, and then disappears from sight. Jack shuffles closer to Nico in the carriage, and Nico takes the reins in one hand to lay an arm over Jack’s shoulder, instead. They stay like that until they reach the homestead.

[veiledfox]

The God who Vanished [ IV ]

'An eternal defender'. Brant's words echoed in the Kitsune's mind as she processed the revelations given. This whole time, for centuries now, for her entire life, a Goddess had been in the Shrine Lands. Yet not once did that discomfort that came with proximity to the Divine ever make itself known.

The bias that had come to exist for her, knowing the brutality of the Gods toward her Kin, was flaring most certainly. A part of her feeling shock and spite at the knowledge that one of the Deities had slipped past her senses this whole time. Yet, in the same moment, another part of her mind was recalling everything that had been said by the Drake. That they had forsaken their Kin, their Divinity, all for the sake of the Kitsune and her own family even.

It made her think back to a few encounters in her past in other Realms. To the Shogun of Inazuma and her attempts to change her view on eternity for the better of her people. To the twin Kitsune Gods that had abruptly greeted her in another Realm. Of Arya, Goddess of Death of yet another Realm who had to slay her own kind... She wondered how Arya was doing...

"Kit."

Brant speaks up again, earning the Kitsune's attention as she's snapped back to the present. Lifting her eyes to find the flickering oranges of the Drake's meeting hers. Their expression, their gaze, it was all much softer than she had seen from them so far. Clearly having picked up on the turmoil troubling Kyuushi.

"S-Sorry. It's just... a lot, after having been raised to fear and despise the Gods."

"An understandable conflict, given none know of Inari's actions. Such was how she wanted it to be, with everything that was happening at the time. No traces left to lead back to your Ancestor's mate, or back to Inari herself. She wanted the best for the Kitsune in the aftermath of the war. However, she was unaware of the harsh decline in birth rates that would come in the generations to follow. By the time it had set in, she had already become your home's guardian."

The more it repeated in her mind, the more it went through everything, the more Kyuushi began to understand better. The sacrifices that the Goddes had to make, the lengths she went to for the sake of her Kin and her Ancestors. Just how much she truly must have cared for them...

"What of Inari in her current state...? Is she still aware?"

"That I do not know, Kit. I only know their fate. One other of your Bloodline has visited me in the past. Though they were not seeking such knowledge, nor did they show any sign they were aware of the truth of the guardian. The only way to know would be to call to them yourself, and test whether or not there is a consciousness behind their eyes."

"And what of the birthrate, was that truly caused by my Ancestor?"

"Yes. In their dying moments, the Crimson saw their Kin flee as the Gods began to unleash their wrath in the wake of Ares' death. A curse left their lips, aimed at their Kin, believing them cowardly traitors. Even though they had no chance against the Gods, compared to the Crimson themselves. A fact they were surely aware of, and it would not be surprising to learn that they regret inflicting such curse now. All the Crimson had wanted, in the first place, was for Mythos to be free to roam the world once again."

Silence falls again, the Drake allowing her more time to think things over. It was... good, she supposed, to get confirmation on a number of things. Even if it was a bitter thought that there was no question it had been her ancestor who had caused such a curse. Yet, to now be aware of the fact that it was not the very same Ancestor that had been guarding the Shrine Lands...

It brought to question just how active her Ancestor's spirit truly was at this time. The only thing she was sure of was that a portion of them was most certainly latched onto her own. Given how she could feel their influence every time she would shift between her Feral and Humanoid forms. Of course, she also couldn't possibly forget how it had taken control of her once before, and that she can now call upon it for aid in a limited form.

Though surely the ring was not infused with their spirit, unlike those who knew of the ring believed. It never felt like it had anything within, or that it was powerful itself. If anything, the Jade that had been added to it post it's creation was merely a focus of sorts for magical purposes now. A utility upgrade for what's little more than a highly durable ring of unique material.

With everything that was filtering through her mind, all the thoughts and questions, she would turn her focus inward. Closing her eyes, taking slow and deep breaths, letting herself lean back. Her tails subconsciously moving to maintain support for her, keeping her off the ground.

Internally she would seek out that fragment of the Grand Kitsune she knew resided within. That piece that would always attempt to claw out mid-shape shifting. Which had once forced itself upon her and made her do the unthinkable. Softly calling out to that piece that hid deep within and lurked through the shadows of her very being.

She would not receive a proper response to her call, however she wuld see a flicker of crimson alight in the darkness. Small, faint, weak, with a spark of yellow at it's core. Kyuushi knew almost instantly that it was, in fact, her Ancestor. A small, almost insignificant amount of them still lingering.

Yet to see just how little was there, and know just how strong it could be when it so wished, was almost terrifying. It certainly put into perspective just how absurd they must have become in their life prior to their clash with the Gods. It admittedly did make her curious just what exactly they had done to gain such power, but she knew such would be a dark road to tread.

With the lack of proper response earlier, it was clear she wasn't going to get much else beyond a simple acknowledgement. An indication of exitence and nothing else. Thus she would surface again, letting her eyes open as she sits up again and, in one swift motion, moves to stand. Taking a deep breath and sighing out the exhale that would follow.

"Kit?"

Brant's tone has changed again, this time almost sounding worried, though it was primarily curious. Such being even more evident with the tilt to their head they did while looking to her. Lips curling with a soft smile, Kyuushi raises a hand over her chest as she breathes again.

"Just wanted to confirm something is all. A look inside to see whether my Ancestor is truly with me or not, and they are. Learning that a number of things I had been taught were done by my Ancestor's lingering spirit, or had been lead to believe were them due to various rumors that had no evidence to refute them, it made me start to question some things. I don't know if it should be considered a good thing or if it should be a bad thing, but they are most certainly with me. Now I just wonder why it's so... hostile and aggressive to the point of attempting to take control on a regular basis."

"The Crimson attempts to force themselves upon you?"

She's not sure why, but Kyuushi can't help but chuckle a little. Her head nodding to wordlessly answer as the brief burst of odd laughter passes. "Yes, whenever I shift between my true form and this Humanoid one, there's a point in the middle that only ever lasts for miliseconds. One where I'm an exact mix, half Human, half Fox, and every single time I reach that state, it feels like they try to climb up from the depths of my very being.

There's also times where I get excessively angry that I can feel... something fanning those flames exponentially. Hell, the first time I ever bit someone, the utterly feral nature of it, caused that same feeling to rise. Just, instead of fanning anger, it fueled a grotesque hunger. Thankfully that hunger-based sensatin hasn't happened again since.

They have also taken control outright twice over. Once when I was facing an unfamiliar threat and I suddenly became a passenger in my own body. I was made to watch as I lashed out at a Human Mage, tore out their heart, and consumed it.

The second time was when I awoke an entity that had been slain and sealed away with a Naginata as the seal. Again, I became a passenger, and my body took action to such speeds and strengths that I had never tapped into before. The entity, a giant necrotic Fox wreathed in flames that would rot things they touched, was being thrown around like it was nothing. Before long, it was slain again, and like before it was consumed. Though thankfully not by eating it. It simply just... got sucked into the Naginata, and through it did power feed into my body."

"Hmm... rather harrowing experiences all, I would assume. There was a time where I lost control of my body in similar fashion. Another being entirely forcing their will over my own and making me do things I did not wish to. So I can sympathise there. Though the difference lies in how I was able to wrest control back and crush the foul Sorcerer who had dared to do such a thing.

In your case, however, it sounds like there are a few possible routes to take. One, discover what the fragment desires and fulfill it. Two, discover whatever regrets it may have that are keeping it around and remedy them. Three, seek an excorsist to see if they could either remove the fragment entirely, or transfer it into a new vesel of some kind. One you would likely need to keep on you at all times, I'd assume, but they would no longer have power over you or threaten taking over. Instead it may simply flash or jostle when something aggrevates it."

It admittedly caught Kyuushi off guard to hear the Drake offer ways to remedy her problem. It had been something so ingrained in her very existence since she was born that it felt like it would be a part of her forever. That there simply just wasn't any way to undo it or change the circumstances. Yet, here she was now with a slew of options at her fingertips.

"I... thank you, so much, Brant. It's only possible solutions, I know, but even posibilities weren't something I thought I'd ever have concerning this. I only came here for information about Inari in the first place, but to gain so much more... There must be some way I can repay you?"

A hearty chuckle rumbles from the Drake at her words, surely meaning they were well received. It was a bit of a surprise hearing them laugh, of all things. Though it also helped to just make her that much more comfortable around the vast, frankly inherently imposing, being.

"Well, it would seem the scale I had granted to the ancestor of yours that had visited me has been entombed with their body. All it grants me now is the view of a dark, cold, somewhat mossy stone."

They finally respond a few seconds later after their laughter calms. Raising a foot and twisting it's leg, they draw it back toward their chest. The motion causing their hoard beneath to shift and clatter some as their entire form adjusts to allow their claws to reach to one of their dark Bronze scales. Effortlessly, unflinching, they pluck it from their body and move to deliver it before Kyuushi.

For her end, the Kitsune watches intent and curious as such events play out. A brow rising as she sees the scale plucked, where her other brow would meet it as it is moved closer to her. Taking in the shape of the scale, almost like a droplet of a liquid, yet the size is what surprises her most. For a Draconic creature of their size, the scale was curiously small, able to fit in the palm of her hand as she reaches both out to accept it.

"I... don't mean this in an offensive way, but are all your scales so small?" Kyuushi dares to ask, after a few seconds of looking the scale over. Thankfully, Brant chuckles yet again. His large head nodding both in understanding and confirmation.

"Yes, and no offense is taken. All who I give a scale to remark about the size, and it is understandable. It is due to an unusual genetic defect I inherited. Smaller scales, significantly more of them across my body, provides greater protection than those of regular size while being heavier over all, and thus slower. I actually have such defect to thank for my life in a few situations, in all honesty.

Though it's protection is not the purpose behind my granting them to others. I am able to use my scales as a focus to scry through, to be able to see the world beyond my Lair. It's not much, and there are times I wish I could manage the Magics to transform into a Humanoid form such as yours, but it is something that provides relief and joy. It is also how I acquired all my knowledge. Hundreds of them scattered across the world by now."

Such a method of making a network for them to acquire info and to keep an eye on the world was... interesting and impressive both. It would be impossible for her to deny it, the idea had part of her mind racing with posibilities for it. Even ways she could try and adapt the idea herself to be able to do things to make various aspects of life in the Shrine Lands better.

Plus, to think they would entrust her with one such scale, it quite honestly had her excited. Another string of curiosity taking form in her mind quickly to wonder if the scale would provide sight into other Realms for Brant. Her earlier soft smile growing to a wide, bright grin while she nods and turns her eyes up to meet Brant's again.

"I understand, Brant, and I promise I will show you plenty. I'm not quite sure it'll work in some situations, but if it does, then I promise you will see such a vast variety of places, peoples, and scenarios. I'll keep it with me at all times from now on." Bowing in thanks and respect to the Drake before her.

"Wonderful, Kyuushi. I look forward to the things you will show me, and with this we can consider us even."

Their large head lowering, eyes closing, in a reciprocation of the bow. The two both straightening again, where they would meet eye to eye, share a smile, and a mutual nod. A wordless respectful farewell and promise to see one another again.

Turning, Kyuushi stores the scale in a pouch at her hip and secures it within as she begins out of the cave. Able to hear the shift of coins and gems behind her as Brant lays their head down over a leg again to return to their rest. Two Mythos, each grand beings in their own rights, now with a newfound acquaintance and understanding of the workings of the world as they return to their separate lives.

Though it would certainly take the Kitsune a fair bit longer, given the distance she had to travel. Thankfully she knew the paths to take now, so traveling back would not take nearly as long as first traveling to such a distant location. Even if she was still running on little rest... a long sleep would be due once she was home.

[lawbreaker13]

A sincere question for you about this whole apartheid thing. Have you ever been to Israel? Or Gaza? Israeli or Palestinian friends perhaps? I feel like a lot of things can be “seen” over Instagram and Twitter, but like. Have you ever actually seen it? Walked through a bad neighborhood in Seder? Attended a protest in Netanya? Been a tourist in Jerusalem?

Arabs in Israel, those under jurisdiction of the Israeli government, are treated no differently than the Jews, the Christians, or the Atheists. No one is being beaten on the streets, they live and work there peacefully. Their passports look the same, their visas look the same, and their licenses look the same. If they are crossing the border for work, yeah, they’re gonna have identification. Just like a US citizen in Canada would still be identifiably a visitor. But for Palestinians who live in Israel, they are just another citizen.

People in Gaza, under Hamas’s rule, do not have the same experience. Israel pulled out of Gaza in 2006. There are no Israelis living there because by law, they may not enter for fear of execution. The Gaza Strip is not a part of Israel. So for Palestinians living in Gaza, theoretically the place that was supposed to act as Palestine Part II, the people who voted their government to power in 2005 and have not held one election since, they might have a different experience. They don’t have a military but they do have rockets. They have guns. They have the means to publicly execute the LGBT individuals. Personally, I’d protect my citizens before building rockets and killing bisexuals, but you know. Not my circus.

You’ve completely bulldozed one major point I made in favor of your catchy slogans. There are no “white men” in this situation. You’re pitting two heavily marginalized and discriminated minorities against each other and playing “hero” and “villain.” Israel is mostly made up of middle eastern Israelis—Sephardi Jews and Mizrahi mostly—people whose DNA traces back to the very land they’re standing on. We’re not talking about a couple of silly little French and British people on a murder spree. These guys aren’t pilgrims sent to colonize land. These people have nowhere else to go. Their parents, grandparents, and great grandparents were born there. 30 generations back they were enslaved there. And 50 back they discovered the land. It’s their home too. That’s why this is so messy.

The Jewish diaspora has created a situation where we’re too white to be minorities but not white enough to be the majority. Hitler’s entire thing was that one Jew in a line of 20 white ancestors still creates tainted blood. So I don’t know man, we weren’t white enough for him. I’ve never really seen a white IDF soldier. Save for one convert I knew. He was a good guy. Killed by a Hamas grenade hidden inside a mosque. So I guess that’s one less white man for you. May his memory be a blessing.

Anyway, I mean this in the most sincere way possible, zero malice, hugs, kisses, and peace, if you want to truly understand what’s happening out there, I implore you to go. It’s a beautiful place with a very messy history that dates back thousands of years, not just a few decades. The Arab quarter in Jerusalem is lined with incredible art and food, and the Jewish quarter the same. Most people speak English. And you will find Palestinian people all over the country, just doing their thing and hoping their family is okay. Just like the Israelis.

Imma add a picture I took at the Gaza border here just ‘cause I can. We weren’t allowed past this monument so there’s a few miles between the camera and the city, but it’s pretty open air. It’s a nice vantage point regardless. And you get a feel for what the border actually looks like. This was August, so no destruction in sight.

Something I really don't understand is this obsession the anti-Israel crowd (in the West) have with death and martyrdom. All they care about is dying, and often killing for their cause; I see nothing about building a better future that isn't based on the murder of 9 million Israelis.

It's easy to die for a cause. The challenge is living to make a better tomorrow.

[crimeronan]

as an Irish person reading trc/tdt what do you think of Maggies characterisation of the Lynch family??

oh i LOVE this question. anon so kindly giving me permission to infodump....

the short answer is: i love it?? i love it. i have varying quibbles about how niall's "redemption arc" is done and stuff like that, but purely on the irish side of things, i love it

further necessary context: i'm irish-american a few generations removed from ireland (who happens to have a hyperfixation on irish myth), my closest familial connections in the country are some distant cousins that my great-aunt traced recently. direct relations to her, but given that she is like 96, much less direct to me. so my perspective is very different from that of an irish person raised n living in ireland, & most of what i love most about the lynch family is directly related to diaspora and intergenerational trauma stuff

i said i was gonna infodump and then couldn't decide where to start. waow. okay so i've talked before about most of the worldbuilding in the dreamer trilogy being based in irish myth - ronan being from the otherworld (eldritch god, fairy, same thing), fintan mac bochra and the hawk of achill, not giving your true name/address to people at the fairy market, etc. these stories are woven through the whole fabric of the series

then the concept of irish storytelling itself is Also woven through the whole series, on both a meta and in-canon level

traditional irish storytellers will take a myth and make it their own, you can trace the origins of different tales back dozens or hundreds of years. the goal isn't to tell the story the way it's been told in generations past, but instead to tell it how You'd tell it. so there are these books repurposing irish myth in this unique way, but also these characters who are all so in love with storytelling in their own ways

you can see it in how niall and aurora tell their stories, how niall's always have a focus on action and tragedy and grisly death while aurora's are more focused on the love and the feelings and the soft fade-out of a tragic hero

you can see it in how declan has inherited niall's propensity for storytelling (the twitter confirmation of his middle name being "tadhg" still makes me Big Eyes Emoji) and also inherited niall's propensity for reckless idiocy, Geis Of Bullshit indeed.

then there's the way that declan and ronan both find themselves playing out different parts of niall's worst traits, how intergenerational trauma seems inescapable, how every damn person in the family is So Mentally Ill. this isn't necessarily the case for every irish-american family but it sure is for kitkat's. hoo boy we love giving chronic pain, psychosis, and inescapable depression to our offspring

that greywaren quote about "diaspora always idealizes the homeland" has stuck with me for a while because there's this kind of muted longing in the books' depiction of ireland itself, but also in the books' depiction of the barns, a place that niall and mór Made ronan's homeland. and more than that i see it in declan's views on his parents themselves, how he's able to reconcile with mór Because she's so distant and unfathomable and never personally fucked him up, so it's easier to forgive and forget everything she's done... how niall is dead and gone and can no longer change his behavior or grow or learn or fuck declan up any worse, so it's easier to accept his love as uncomplicated and good. child idealizing his distant homeland because that's what he's Supposed to have

truly don't know if that was the authorial intention but. it's the only way declan's arc makes any sense to me. that one line does a shitload of heavy lifting

and on a less theme-heavy note i love little details like. the brothers being so in touch with irish culture as second-gen immigrant kids, love that they play the uilleann pipes and attend the fleadh, love that ronan can do an irish accent on command, love that declan keeps photos of ireland in his bedroom but they still don't quite reflect his True Self like his attic does, love that mór is a gaelgeoir (irish speaker), there are other details i'm forgetting now

this post is ungodly long so i'll leave it here. these r my thoughts. it's good shit o/

[landinoandco]

A Game of Chess

Carlos Sainz x reader

Request from @leesuhnakamoto-krys "Carlos Sainz x reader fluff"

Warnings: fluff, a slight reference if you squint.

Word count: 2.2 k

Requests are open :)

This year - due to the current pandemic - there were to be two races in Austria, however to keep with the theme of ‘no two races the same’ they were to be called different things: the Styrian grand prix for the first race and the Austrian Grand Prix for the second. This weekend saw the first of the two and your boyfriend Carlos Sainz finished a respectable 6th place behind his former teammate and current best friend Lando Norris. 

The majority of the grid had decided to stay in the surrounding area, making the most of the time they had - not only to keep on training but to explore. 

Travelling the world with Carlos was a dream come true and you were so lucky to be able to do your job on the move - you were a travel blogger/vlogger and were pretty well known for it as well. A large following of people that enjoyed watching your weekly lifestyle and travel vlogs alongside the photography that came with it. 

It was the Monday following the race so Carlos had taken it as a rest day, you had woken up that morning in his arms, tracing circles on one of them as you both spoke about your plans for the day. 

“And a haircut is what I really need.” He said to you, as you moved a strand that had fallen into his eyes. 

“No, I like it long, you look more -” You paused. “Mature.” Giggling, you moved your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. He shook his head at you, a large smile plastered onto his face. He leaned forward onto his forearms, connecting your lips together for a brief second before pulling away and rolling out of bed. Leaving you, still huddled in all of the covers, watching him as he strode across the room to the hotel chest of drawers, pulling out two t-shirts; one of which he put on and the other being chucked in your general direction. 

“So, cariño, what is your plan for today?” Carlos asked, flopping onto the bed and looking up to you.

“I think I’m going to go and explore the town, some of my followers have recommended a few places so I think I am going to check those out, take a few photos-” You trailed off as he began to draw patterns onto the palm of your hand. You smiled fondly at him, you had met just before lockdown completely by chance after you bumped into him in a train station. He had asked for your number and feeling like he had given you no reason to say no, you did and as it turns out, it was the best decision of your life. “What is your plan for the day ahead, mi Amor.” 

“I think I am meeting Lando this afternoon at a café down the road. I’m going to teach him to play chess.” He said proudly, emphasising the word ‘chess.’ 

“Chess?” You questioned, reaching over for the top and putting it on. It was one of his old team McLaren t-shirts, you scoffed at his still apparent loyalty to the team; admittedly it was your favourite but Ferrari didn’t need to know that. 

“Yes.” Carlos stated, he then pointed at the t-shirt you were wearing. “I would recommend not leaving the hotel room with that t-shirt on. I don’t want to get into trouble.” He fought to keep the smile off of his lips. Your eyes lit up, “I wouldn’t even dream of it, mi Amor.”

You had agreed with Carlos that as soon as you had finished what you had set out to do that morning, you would meet him in the café alongside Lando. “Do you fancy playing a game of chess with me, later?” You had asked before you went your separate ways. 

Carlos gave a lopsided grin and kissed your forehead. “We will see, cariño, we will see.” With that he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked down the street. Styria was a beautiful town, a handful of buildings situated in the mass of rolling hills and mountain tops that covered the landscape for as far as the eye could see. 

You had walked up to a stone viewing point at the peak of the town, a small bench that overlooked the south past Styria and into the Austrian countryside.

You loved this time you got to yourself, it allowed for you to sit and reminisce; bathing in all of the memories that lead up to this point in your life. You thought back to the day Carlos asked you to move to Italy with him - due to him changing teams. It almost broke your relationship, the thought of leaving all of your family and friends behind in England but in the end you decided it was an adventure too thrilling to pass on...

It was a breezy summer evening in London, the clouds had blanketed the city and a faint rumble of the traffic could be heard from your apartment. Carlos had messaged you earlier that day, asking if he could talk to you when he got home - for the remainder of that afternoon nerves had settled comfortably in the pit of your stomach. At last you heard the unlocking of the door, your head whipped around to see a tired looking Carlos to fall through the door with a sigh. As soon as he looked up and saw you sat on the sofa, his eyes gleamed. “Mi amor.” He said tiredly, his brows knitted momentarily before he nodded his head. “Right, my text message.” You nodded unsure of where this conversation was heading. It was early days in your relationship so anything was possible. 

“I got an offer from Ferrari-” He started, making his way over to you, you watched him intently, nibbling on your lower lip. “It’s an offer that in this industry you don’t turn down, obviously there is a lot to consider because it would mean leaving McLaren and-” He sighed, “This country behind.” 

A line appeared between your brows, you didn’t speak for fear of interrupting his train of thought. He took your hand in his. 

“If I signed with Ferrari, I would have to move to Italy-” Your mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Which is why I wanted to ask you if you would come with me.” 

You definitely didn’t expect him to ask this, any expression that was on your face before had been wiped as you took to staring. “I’m asking a big thing and obviously you don’t have to answer straight away.” He rushed in response to your dumbfounded expression. 

For the next few days - after that conversation - the atmosphere between the pair of you had become tense, you had decided to call your sister and explained the whole situation to her. In a nutshell she called you an idiot for not saying yes immediately.  

“I’ve been thinking-” You began to Carlos that evening . “I would love to move to Italy with you. It’s a good opportunity to really write our story, explore the world - together. It will be such a great adventure.” Carlos didn’t need to ask you twice and he enveloped you into his arms and span you around, meeting your lips with his. 

“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead on yours. That night was also the first time those three words were exchanged. “I love you too.” You replied sweetly, your lips brushing his as you did so. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. You were so lucky to have found Carlos - actually you found each other - you like to believe that it was the universe who had a hand in it. Carlos was your soulmate and you were honoured to be able to call him that. 

Deciding it was time you made your way back to him, you started on your journey back to the main town - down the steep, winding path, birds darting overhead and the chirp of crickets sounding in the hedgerows. 

You reached the café and as soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the smell of warm coffee, you went over to the counter and ordered yourself a latte - casting your gaze around the old fashioned shop, you were surprised to see that only a few people were sitting inside; an older couple, who had taken extreme interest in the pair you were here to see. You chuckled to yourself as the barista placed your drink onto the counter in front of you. 

“Drew quite the crowd earlier.” He leant over the counter, pointing to the pair, they were stuck in an intense game of chess and by the looks of it - Lando was winning. Carlos looked up, shaking his head as Lando moved another one of his pieces off of the board; as he did he noticed you standing there and waved you over. 

“Yes, I bet they did.” You chuckled, taking the drink and nodding ‘thanks’ to him. Carlos pulled a chair up for you and motioned to the chess board in anguish, “You will not believe it, mi Amor. He is beating me.” Lando was sat on the other side wearing a cocky grin and his arms crossed onto the table. 

“So what you are trying to tell me, Carli , is that you taught Lando too well and now he is beating you.” You pointed out, the corners of your eyes crinkled. Carlos only glared at you, sighing dramatically. Lando played incredibly well and did take the victory, punching his arms in the air as he called out ‘checkmate.’ 

“The student becomes the master.” He cheered, high fiving you and offered to shake Carlos’ hand but Carlos pouted and pushed it away with his index finger. “No. How on earth did you win? I’ve only just taught you.” He cried out. 

You looked at Lando as Lando looked at you, both fighting the urge to laugh. You couldn’t hold it in as you held onto the table - both doubling over. 

“I love you, Carli, I really do but - boy - are you a sore loser.” You managed to say. 

“Well, cheers, mate.” Lando said getting up, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. “I’m going to head off now. Dinner with Jon.” You waved as he left, fist bumping Carlos on his way past. 

“Do you fancy a game with me now?” You asked, your elbow was resting on the table so you leant on the heel of your palm. 

“On one condition.” Carlos said, setting the chess board back up, “As long as you promise not to beat me like Lando just did.” 

“Of course, mi Amor.” You said, a hint of mocking in your tone. You admired the way he scrunched up his nose as he concentrated, working out what his first move was going to be. 

“The aim of chess is to be in control of your opponent, you want to be able to trick them into doing exactly what you want them to do.” Carlos said, moving his first piece. “You have to play with dominance.” He added theatrically. 

“You want me to be dominant?” You repeated incredulously, a smirk toying with your lips. “Well, why didn’t you say so. After all this time-” 

“Mi Amor.” He gasped, lowering his voice. “Not like that -” He stammered, a pink flush rising up his neck. You only winked in reply and made your move. 

“Go on, tell me more about chess.” You urged him on, watching as he went to make his move. He paused, met your gaze and narrowed his eyes. You shrugged innocently and he carried on; his gaze softened as a reminiscent haze coated his eyes. 

“You know,” Carlos began, placing the chess piece down and resting both of his elbows onto the table. “When my dad first met my mum, he taught her how to play chess and they used to sit in the kitchen on a Sunday morning after church and play. It was then my mum who taught me, on the weekends when my dad was away racing; we used to sit in the kitchen together on a Sunday after church and play. It was always the highlight of my weekend.” You watched as he fondly spoke about his family, warmth filled your chest. 

“You teach me well then and maybe we could turn it into a tradition.” You spoke gently, reaching over the table to take his hand in yours. Awe transformed his face as he gazed at you. 

Many years later you would end up making it a tradition, as you taught your daughter how to play on a Sunday after church as she watched her daddy race. You would tell her the story every time you would go to play and every time you would think about how lucky you were to have bumped into that stranger in the train station. They say that you will find your soulmate when you least expect it and after all these years - you would have to agree. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

[jameui]

SPECIAL PRESENT 2

Requested

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Jung Yunoh x College Student!M!Reader (featuring: Bestfriend!Lee Jeno)

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Unprotected intercourse, huge age gap, a lot of IMPORTANT flashbacks (i think), daddy kink, sex toys, overstimulation

SUMMARY: You were a striving student in Resonance High and had perfect records. Besides your devotion to your education, you were also gifted with a talent. All these stuffs making your sugar daddy, Jaehyun, proud of you, so he decided to give you a night you won't forget.

He gave Jeno an acknowledging nod for looking out for you for him and carried your smaller body with your legs wrapped around his waist like you were an eight year old. "You asleep, baby?" You buried your head on the crook of his neck and shook them 'no'. "Alright. Cause I don't want dinner going to waste." He made you giggle while you hugged his body tighter that were hanging over his shoulders.

He pulled the door to the passenger's seat and gently seats you down on the comfy chair. He closed the door for you before moving to his side of the car. The driver's. He got inside and made himself comfortable, just as you were putting on your seatbelt. "Are we good to go?"

"Yeap. I'm starving already." You said patting your tummy.

He chuckled with his deep voice that you always find so hot and fascinating. "Were you practicing 'til the late night, again?" He asked you, concern lingering on the tone of his voice.

"Yeah. I stayed with Jeno, though. He was a better mentor, in full honesty." You pouted. "Ah, right. The mentor told me I made him proud." You said like a puppy who was complimented by their owner.

"He did, huh?" He said, before he raised his hand from the steering wheel and patted your head. "I'm more proud of you." You smiled and felt all your insides go giddy as you wiggled cutely on your seat.

You drove through houses and past buildings before you arrived at the older man's house. You were in your first year of college when you ran away from your family's house and moved to a more far off place, somewhere they wouldn't be able to track you down. To support yourself, you rented a room in a boarding house, but had to eventually leave due to you having not enough money to pay for the rent. You tried so hard looking for a job and you did, but it didn't last long. Although, you were paid a good amount of money that helped you with your house renting and food. Of course, you found a very unstable job again, but was fired for your poor performance. Yet again, you were forced to leave the the place you rented and even thought of actually working at a gay bar. Not until you stumbled upon, your now bestfriend, Jeno who offered you a shared room with him in his apartment, which you gladly took.

Jeno was one of your coworkers that you never really got to interact with, so seeing now that he's your roommate, you had to eventually get to know him more and you two grew closer together, becoming the best of friends that you two are now. It was quite coincidental that you two were studying at the same university, so it was a shock for the both of you. You two were roommates 'til the end of your first year, when you met Jaehyun on that faithful day, who was generous enough to invite you to live under the same roof as him. At first, you were very hesitant, but with the agreement he had set between you two, who were you to refuse? Like you said before, you were only up for it because of the money and pleasure.

"Daddy?" You called out to him. In the agreement, you were free to call him anything you wanted if you two were in public, but when it's just the two of you, that nickname should be the one used AND only that. He hummed in reply as his eyes never left the rear view mirror, parking the car in the garage. "Do you ever... er, I know it's a very unnecessary question, but..." You chuckled with hurt on your voice. "... Do you ever get tired of me?"

Jaehyun didn't say anything after he had parked the car. You two only sat there, Jaehyun turning the car engine off, then sighed. "Baby, listen." You were once about to speak again, but he cut you off. "I want to tell you something." The tone in his voice made your heart beat faster, more scared than that recent experience at the dance studio. He held your hand, your eyes falling on them before trailing them up to Jaehyun's who was looking deeply into your E/c orbs. "Don't think of it badly, but a few days into the relationship, I really did thought I wish I shouldn't have met you."

And there it goes. The heartbreak you had always deserved, but his hold on your hand never loosened, rather it tightened and his eyes softening when he noticed your eyes start to prick with tears. "I said, don't think badly about it, M/n."

"How could I not when you're literally breaking my heart?!"

"Baby, let me explain." Jaehyun told you, you letting out a huff.

"Then, explain and if you want to end all this, then just say so. I don't want to get my hopes up." You whined and crossed your arms.

Jaehyun chuckled. "Before I met you, I was always on my desk. Every single day, thinking of nothing, but only work." You side eyed him and huffed, again. "But, now that you're here, you're the only person filling up that space in my mind. All I could ever think of was you and only you. Your smile, your sweet giggles, the way your voice sounded so angelic when you sing, everything about you spiraled in my head, neverending." He softly told you, putting a hand on your thighs that was clothed with the long pants you wore. "You never came to me as just a responsibility anymore. You were my top, number 1, only priority. Now, I regret ever thinking like that."

"Stop, you're gonna make me cry." You shoved your hand on his face to shut him up, to which the older resorted to tickling you. You bursted into fits of laughter not stopping until you two were finally out of breathe. Your eyes locked with each other, your chest heaving up and down, Jaehyun still yet to stop from his chuckling. Once his chuckling died down, you couldn't contain it in yourself anymore and hungrily pressed your lips on his, moving to his side of the car to straddle his thighs.

Jaehyun was taken by surprise from your sudden action, but replied quite faster than you thought. His hands slid down to your ass, kneading it through your pants making you moan in pleasure, Jaehyun using this as a chance to slip his tongue inside your wet cavern mixing his saliva with yours as he danced with your tongue, taking dominance very easily.

His hands went further up your body, sending tingles down your spine making you shudder in your place. He pulled away from your lips, a string of a transparent liquid connecting both of you, whilst his dark brown eyes gazing at you with nothing, but lust deep within those orbs that stared into your soul. "You look so sexy, baby." He told you, before he sloppily placed wet kisses on your jaw, down to your neck making sure to leave hickeys that will be visible for days. The contact of his soft lips on your skin made you sigh shakily from the pleasure he was giving you. He caressed your soft skin from under your large shirt and found its way up to your erect nipples that he always fondly played with whenever you found yourselves in this same exact situation.

An unconscious loud, high pitched noise came out of your mouth, Jaehyun swelling with pride as he smirked, teeth grazing the supple flesh of your neck. "D-daddy.. Mmnh~" You hummed out in pleasure, your hands tangling themselves on Jaehyun's unkempt hair, your head completely empty, but the thought of how the man made you feel so good. "Daddy~"

The way the nickname rolled out your tongue in a very sensual way, earned you a growl from the older male before he bit on that sensitive part of your skin making you scream out a loud moan. He licked on that same area, sucking on it while doing so. Your eyes were half lidded when you felt something under you poke your thighs. He was hard.

Teasingly, you traced your fingers over his clothed member and played with the tip to drive him over the edge. "Stop teasing, baby boy. You know what happens to bad boys, right?" He whispered seductively into your ears, his hot breathe hitting your skin briefly, a minty scent filling your nose.

"Yes, daddy." You nodded your head meekly.

"That's a good boy. Now get to work." He ordered you as you moved back towards your seat in a kneeling position and ducking down to become face to face with the male's crotch. Even from now, you still couldn't get over the fact how he was so huge and how long his dick was. You were still yet to learn how this will fit inside of you. "Come on, baby. Time's a wasting."

You nodded your head submissively and reached over the waistband of his sweatpants and peeled them off only to discover that he was bare on the inside, his sweatpants the only thing that kept his bottom half covered. "Did you expect this to happen, daddy?" You smirked, placing kitten licks on the tip of his semi-erect cock. "You're so hot, daddy." You said, looking up at him while you rested your head on his thighs.

"Baby, please." He begged of you, eyes furrowing.

You smirked before you trailed a small lick from his balls up to his tip, making Jaehyun groan throughout the time he entangled in his hand a fistful of your hair. You can't help, but let a moan slip past your tongue as you continued to place kisses on the head of his cock. You glanced up at him only to see him viewing you with so much lust in his eyes. You understood this as a sign to stop your teasing and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock taking in only a few inches that you could fit into your mouth, using your tongue that sent shivers down Jaehyun's spine as he groaned from the pleasure you gave him.

But, this time, you wanted to make him feel better. You wanted to know how far you can go. You were determined to exert yourself to your maximum limit, so you took all of his cock into your mouth, not even bothering how much you choked around his dick when he reached further down your throat. Upon this, Jaehyun howled. He didn't expect you to take him whole, since you were basically only playing with the head of his member, so this was rather unexpected. "That's right, baby. Make daddy feel good."

You helped yourself first to fully adjust to his size, swallowing around him that made your throat tighten causing to send pleasure through Jaehyun's nerves making him groan out in pleasure, hissing out cusses that made your ego swell with pride as you started to bob your head painfully slowly for Jaehyun's liking.

Occasionally you would look up at Jaehyun who had his head tilted backwards, eyes shut, sighing from the familiar sensation you gave him while he let you do your work. He would take his head back down to you, to peer over you who sucked on his dick like it was a lollipop. "Fuck, baby. Faster."

You followed his command and went a little faster, earning a groan from the lust filled male as he started to guide your head. You stilled yourself, giving him the signal that he can go at his own pace. And so he did. But, you didn't expect that he'd fuck your mouth at a very rough pace.

You held onto his thighs to balance yourself, your eyes rolling back from how much you felt good with just your mouth getting fucked by Jaehyun. The older male grunted and laughed darkly whispering a few curses, letting out chains of groans and sighs that he couldn't help from passing his lips.

His pace didn't stop from increasing its speed, until it became an animalistic pace that made tears fall from your eyes, face reddening at how much stimulation he had put on your mouth. "Fuck, fuck! Baby, your mouth feels so good!"

He peeked over you and saw your eyes staring back at him, as you felt his dick grow bigger in size from inside your mouth. Your eyes were both locked together as he continued to buck his hips inhumanely inside your mouth. "M/n~ Ah~" He moaned out your name, but he was still not near to reaching his climax as he continued to let himself fuck your mouth. You were sure your throat will be sore the day after, but you could careless. This felt like heaven to you and you didn't want anything to stop you.

He finally stopped his harsh movements, letting you move at a pace you can handle. You used your tongue to swirl around his cock, making Jaehyun hiss, knitting his eyebrows causing the small creases on his forehead to appear. "Hah..."

To drive him over the edge more, you continued to suck on the sensitive part of his cock, which was the tip that was now leaking with precum. You slid your tongue over the slit of the bulbous tip of his dick, tasting the saltiness of the juice he produced with your help.

He was so over his head, that he let out a loud curse when his phone started ringing. "Don't stop, baby." You complied, his hand intertwining with the strands of your hair. You repeated the routine and got no reaction from the older male, but you can clearly see that he was just trying to restrain himself from letting out a moan. Feeling challenged, you bobbed your head up and down on his dick going faster and faster each time his tip hit the back of your throat.

Jaehyun, who was still on his phone, smirked down at you at how needy you are for his attention. So, he placed his hands back to your hair and singlehandedly pushed you you even further that made you let out a choked out gasp, but gradually grew accustomed to it, after he gave your head one final push, burying his dick inside your mouth thick spurts of his cum travelling down your throat, some dripping down your mouth. He thrusted a few more times to ride out his high before he let you pull away with a loud pop.

He finally hung up the call and caressed your cheeks, leaning in to whisper. "You did great, baby." He smiled down at you and that's how you eventually fell asleep, forgetting about the dinner that Jaehyun had prepared for the both of you.

Nonetheless, Jaehyun fixed himself up and carried you to his room. He laid you down on the soft mattress of the bed, pulling the sheets over your body before he gives your forehead a small lingering kiss. "Sweet dreams, my little angel." He said, then got up to to turn the lights off, happily watching you sleep one last time, before he went downstairs to finish his work.

The morning after, just as expected, you felt a sting on your throat every time you swallowed or even talk making your voice sound hoarse from the sore throat you were having. Jaehyun kept on apologizing, even though you kept on telling him that it was alright and that it wasn't his fault, but he still insisted and promised you to cook your favorite meal for dinner. Knowing the taller male, you knew there was no way around this, so you just gave in and nodded your head. He was also kind enough to let you hide his bite mark.

"I didn't know your voice could go that deep." Jeno teased you, poking the side of your ribs.

You slapped his hands away. "Fuck you." Your voice came out airy and raspy, sound almost like a broken croak, making you sigh. "Gah... I feel like I shouldn't have—ah—done that a day before the performance." You said, wincing when you felt that rising pain on your throat as you rubbed them to try and ease the sting that was fucking killing you.

"Guess, it's good that I don't do the sucking." Jeno chuckled that made you widen your eyes.

"Who—"

"Lee fucking Jeno. AH!" A rather harsh sounding voice, emitted from behind the said male, taking his attention before he smiled.

"Nana! You came!" Jeno opened his arms and ran to the boy, but he was pushed away by him making Jeno pout.

"Shut the fuck up, Jeno." He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "You gave me this sore throat." He glared at Jeno. "And, of course I came. After you fucking threatened me to—"

"Yeah, yeah. That's enough, Jaemin." Jeno said, covering the person's mouth. Jeno took his hand back as quick as lightning, when Jaemin licked on the palm of his hand, a smirk forming on his face. "Gross!"

Jeno was wiping his hands when you rolled your eyes and held a hand at Jaemin for him to shake. "M/n. L/n M/n. A 'friend' of my friend, is a friend of mine. Nice to meet you." You greeted him, Jaemin chuckling at the same exact situation you were in.

"What a top, huh?" Jaemin said, before he shook your hand. "Na Jaemin. Pleased to meet you." He smiled at you while Jeno pulled both your hands away from each other.

"HEY!"

"No. Just no!" Jeno told you both, while knitting your brows in confusion at him. "Jaemin. You're only mine."

"Of course, he's yours. I don't plan on taking him away from you. I just want to be friends." You said in reply to Jeno's statement who pouted. "Besides, I'm not as handsome as you, Jeno, so I can't compete with you."

"I don't mind cute boys." Jaemin crossed his arms, teasing Jeno and probably you, as well as a blush started to paint your cheeks.

"HEY!" Jeno yelled at Jaemin who rolled his eyes before he gave you a wink and walked off. Jeno glared at you and narrowed his eyes. "Mine. Jaemin's mine."

"Then, take him. Geez Luis, Jeno. I already have my own." You stuck your tongue out at him before you went to the studio to change into the costume you were to wear. You waited for your turn, a makeup stylist approaching you to put make up on you. "Oh." You said and the stylist just smiled and started to dab foundation onto your face that matched your skin tone. She gave you a small amount of blush on, giving you an eyeliner and a dark brown eyeshadow to give your eyes a fiery look to match the concept of your performance.

She immediately packed her things up and moved to another student, you giving her a bow as she left. "Wow, look at you. I didn't even recognize it was you." Jeno teased with his arms crossed across his chest.

You gave him a smile and fiddled with you fingers. "I'm actually feeling really scared right now. But, mostly, I can feel the adrenaline rush running through my veins that I could just scream and run out the stage and dance!" You said in glee, until you realized that you had forgotten telling Jaehyun about your performance. "Oh, no. Da—Jaehyun! I forgot to tell him." You groan and checked your pockets for your phone and remembered you left it at home, since you were to excited to even check yourself. You dejectedly sat down on a chair and whimpered.

"He'll be there, M/n. I can tell." Your mentor told you, when he heard your complaints about forgetting to tell Jaehyun, and you immediately lit up and hugged the person.

"Thank you!" You expressed your gratitude, getting the idea of what he meant. You pulled away from him with a wide smile glued stuck to your face.

"Now, you both need to get changed. The opening's 'bout to start." You and Jeno nod your head and went straight to the wardrobe to get change, seeing only two outfits left on the line.

"Just in time." Their dress stylist both gave them what seemed to be like their costumes that was kept inside a black plastic case with a zipper that attached the layer together.

You made your way to the dressing room, one for you and the other for Jeno. You fit yourself just right into the clothes they have assigned for you to wear. You looked at yourself in the mirror and was shocked to see how good you looked on these clothes you're wearing.

You were fit into a maroon loose silk long sleeved polo, the vertical front of the shirt that attaches it together was replaced with laces that stitched around the holes of your clothes' button hole. The sleeves of your polo went further down, just below your wrist, avoiding it from falling by securing it with a button on the hem of the sleeves. For your lower half, you were given tight fitting slack pants that accentuated the size of your bubble butt with your polo neatly tucked inside the waist of your pants. The length of your pants stopped exactly by your ankle, exposing that uncovered area, the wind tickling your ankles. You wore a closed black shoes that complimented the look. You also wore a display lip ring and earring that completed your look, your whole self changing right before your eyes. The gullible and fun you was no longer there, instead it was replaced with a much more unknown version of yourself.

"Damn, I look fine as fuck." You told yourself as you checked yourself out on the mirror that was placed in the dressing room. "Woah..." You said, tracing your fingers on the outline of your ass.

"M/n. You done in there? We're almost up." Jeno's voice called from the busky studio that snapped you from your thoughts and came out of the dressing room. Jeno's head turn to look at you taking in your new look with a lip bite and a whistle. "Damn, bro. You look so hot."

"Thanks, I guess." You giggled, blushing shyly.

A few more compliments later and your group was being called to move to the venue and be at the backstage to prepare. You just stuck to Jeno the whole time going back to the routine a few times to practice and perfect the dance. Jeno was a good friend to the point where he would always be there by your side whenever you needed him. Even at this time, he never left your side and helped calm you down by offering a bubblegum to you, your mind thinking about nothing, but focusing on chewing the gum. Jeno would always initiate a talk with you making you laugh all the time whenever he made faces or make jokes that weren't even funny making it hard for you not to laugh at.

But, it seemed like all Jeno's work went immediately down the gutter when you felt your nervousness come back at once, when the emcee of the opening program started to introduce you to the stage.

Loud cheers and a round of applause were heard as you made your way to the very spacious stage of the place. Your eyes fell to the crowd, feeling yourself break into cold sweat from all the nervousness you felt. It was too heavy that you couldn't—"Daddy?" You smiled when you saw Jaehyun in the crowd and waved his hand at you when you saw your eyes that was happily looking at him. You subtly waved your hand back at him, to which he smiled at, those deep dimples appearing for you.

You got into your position, which consisted of you lying down on the floor, with your right leg folded up, your knee raised up. You had a cutted satin fabric in your back pocket as a prop for yours and Jeno's solo later. You put your hands over your eyes, as a part of your starting position.

Soon, the music started booming through the speakers and you felt your body get trapped to the rhythm of the song as you felt your hands and legs get overtook by the music as you started to gracefully dance to each beat of the song. Jaehyun, with his phone, proudly deciding to film your whole performance.

The first and second half of the song was just your group synchronized dancing to the choreography of what your mentor had taught you and you leading some part of the dance, until the song made a huge turn to a very sensual groove that had only you and Jeno left on the stage. Your solo, with your partner, Jeno, started and everyone in the crowd whistled and gasped, including Jaehyun who felt a little jealous that it wasn't him with you on that stage.

You started with a freestyle by grinding your hips on the cold newly polished floor of the stage, before you were joined by Jeno who stealthily took the fabric from your pocket and slowly wrapped it around your source of vision. He took your chin to turn your head and face him. One hand, not too tightly held the blindfold up only enough, so it doesn't fall, while the other held the back of your neck turning both of you around, so your back faced the audience and he faced the crowd, smirking before he leaned in close to you and staged to make it look like he bit on your neck, then removing the blindfold from your eyes. Then, ending the performance with you falling down to the floor acting lifeless, while Jeno pretended to wipe his lips.

The audience broke into loud claps and shouting out praises in chorus, while Jeno helped you up to your feet giving him a silent thanks and bowed at the people who was watching your performance. You two walked out of the stage and was greeted with hugs from the students feeling like they made a very big accomplishment from how you made the performance very eye catching. "M/n! You were so great out there!"

"Thanks. Jeno helped me a lot." You said, nudging the older, who only chuckled.

"M/n." Jaehyun's voice grabbed your attention, holding his arms out as he smiled at you. You gave him a wide smile and ran to him hugging him with all your might.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you." You voiced out apologetically, pushing your bottom lip forward into a pout and looked up at him. "Sorry, Jaehyun."

"It's okay, baby." He replied, before leaning into your ear. "Because I'm hoping you kept your promise and that's why I have a surprise for you."

You knew what he meant by that, the reason why you were blushing with your eyes wide open. "I.. er.. Yes, yes." You said, playfully punching on his chest. A week prior to today, you had promised to Jaehyun that if you're performance was successful, you'd finally let him pop your cherry, that's why you're blushing so profusely.

"Then, be ready. I'll be seeing you tonight." He whispered one last time before he kissed your cheeks and excused himself since he was still expected at his work.

The whole day, all you could ever think of was what his surprise was and how he would be able to fit his huge dick inside your ass. It was too impossible, you thought, but you were already feeling just as desperate as the older male. You wanted to know how he felt inside you, how he would fuck you 'til the daylight, how he would break your mind and fuck you until you forget your own name. Just the thought of it made you go crazy as you slapped your cheeks and sighed. "Fuck..."

You felt a presence sat themself beside you giving a loud sigh. "So, I'm guessing you're gonna stay up whole night, huh?" It was Jaemin.

You whipped your head at him and looked at him like he was some type of witch or future teller. "How'd you..."

"Gut feeling." Jaemin said.

You didn't know what you signed up for in that time, until today.

It was currently quarter to seven and you were now at the front of the doorstep, not even bothering to say a word. You could only blink your eyes several times, swallowing the large lump that formed in your throat. You let out a deep breathe and was about to put your hand on the knob when the door let out a soft creak and caught sight of Jaehyun who was dressed in nothing, but his boxer shorts. Your hands didn't left the air as you continued to stare up at him, before your eyes fell down his toned abs that were nothing compared to your flabby stomach. "M/n, baby! You're just in time." He smiled at you, but you were still as nervous as ever. Your eyes never left from taking in the view right in front of your eyes, admiring how much his body was so sexy, licking your lips as your eyes fell down his shorts. "M/n."

Your head snapped up towards him, finally out of your train of thoughts. "Yes, daddy?"

"I left your present on the bed, baby. Go check it out." He told you as you did what you were told and moved upstairs to your shared bedroom and saw a pink colored paper bag on top of the bed. You looked at Jaehyun hesitantly, who gave you a smirk and nodded his head up once to the bag to tell you that you should open it. So, you did. And didn't expect to see all sorts of 'toys' inside them.

"D-daddy... these all are..." You managed to let out, these only few words getting the chance to leave your mouth. Your hands trembled, not because you were scared, mainly because you can already feel yourself start to melt and the desperation to just submit to him already.

You felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around you loosely, Jaehyun's hot breathe hitting your neck. He pressed his lips down to your neck and placed kisses that trailed down to your exposed shoulder due to the large shirt you wore that was barely hanging on your shoulders. You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck as he started to nip on the skin. "Fuck, baby boy." He whispered into your ear, licking your lobe making you sigh in pleasure, as he started to grind his hard on against your ass.

"Ah... daddy.." You moaned out from the feeling of his clothed member on your butt.

He never ceased his movements until he saw your hands still holding onto the bag, his smirk growing wider. "I'll let you pick two, baby and it'll be our special tool for tonight. How's that sound?" He seductively asked you, his lips grazing the back of your ear.

You weakly nodded your head and checked the contents of the paper bag. You were too clouded with the thought of getting pleasured by the older man that you took out whatever you could take in your hand. The chosen items made Jaehyun smirk. "Good choice, baby boy." He moved away from you, already missing the heat his body radiated against yours. He took the bag away from the bed and threw it somewhere in the corner of the room and took the toys you had in your hand. "I gotta say, you have good taste, M/n." He said. "Strip." His voice fell an octave deeper making your knees buckle from his dominating demeanor.

[closhelby]

On and off - Thomas Shelby smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Warnings: swearing & smut

Word count: 2.1K

AN: please give any feedback on smut and what you want to see next? Tried a different writing style...

-

he seemed to be the ex that you couldn’t get over. You couldn’t escape him as hard as you tried, so why were you surprised when he showed up on your doorstep, soaked from the lashing rain that was falling outside at two am.

“You said we were over,” you muttered as you rubbed your sleepy eyes. You were actually awake, feeling sorry for yourself because of how different you wanted your life to be. Somehow you still wanted your relationship to work, despite how much he continued to push you away. You were too good for him, too proper for him, and most of all, you were too nice for him.

These were just assumptions. No one had rarely seen you get wound up, never seen you break or pushed you to that point, because no one needed to. But it was certainly brewing.

“I just wanted to see you,” he slurred.

You sighed, “Ex’s shouldn’t want to see each other though Tommy.”

He pushed the door open slightly, suggesting he came in, and you let him. Gave in to him again. I mean, how couldn’t you?

“Y/n, I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Tommy, if you’ve came here to say the same thing I’ve already heard, then politely fuck off,” you were starting to get annoyed at the assumption you were too nice, because you weren’t. You just gave off that impression. You gave everyone their first chance, as you believed they should, but depending on that, you would give your side. You were caring, but wouldn’t dare to be crossed.

“I’ll always love you, bu-“

“But, I’m too nice. I couldn’t deal mentally with what you do. How you make your money. Well Tommy, you’ve got me very wrong. But that’s your choice, now please” You spoke quickly, “get out of my fucking house.”

You could see the defeat in his face. He meant well, but he was pushing it and you were coming close to breaking point at being nice anymore. He left quickly after that, muttered a bye then disappeared in the horrific night.

The next morning you were awoken with loud bangs coming from your front door. Sighing as you walked towards it, “Tommy, how many times have i to te- oh hi Ada.”

Ada pushed her and baby Karl straight past you, “get ready. It’s happening today, and I’ve got a point to make.”

“Bloody hell Ada. Some context.”

“Billy Kimber.”

“Funeral attire by the looks of it then.” You snorted, and Ada laughed, “yes, the point we are making.” following her into the bedroom.

“Understood,” you agreed, then making an effort to dress solely in black, just exactly how you would if it was their funeral. You and Ada had in fact been friends for a while, you were in Johns year at school and had gotten close to him therefor you were always at the Shelby household. No one expected that yourself and Mr Thomas Shelby would ever become anything, but circumstances change before the war. He promised the world to you in his letters. Always telling you that you both would be married and have children on his return, but deep down you knew that the war changed that outcome and his outlook on life in general.

You had barely gotten time to think before Ada had you storming up the road, in the distance up the empty street you could see a group of men. You and Ada split off as you reached them, both pushing through the men who you assumed were Billy Kimber’s.

“Ada,” Freddie seethed.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you woman doing,” Tommy shouted.

Ada continued to scream, rambling on about people having family’s at home. How they are all worried, and would be attending their funeral. But of course, Billy likes to mock, and made a fly away comment. You were stood at an angle to Billy’s men, so the gun that was in your hand was out of their sight, slightly tucked under your skirt.

Danny Wizz-bang had already lunged towards Billy on the back of his comment. Billy’s men shooting him dead, dropping to the ground instantly. Guns were now raised on both ends, Ada shouting for them to lower them, while Billy moved forward shooting into Tommy’s direction, managing to shoot him in the left shoulder.

Your eyes shot red, without the slightest hesitation, lifted the gun from your stockings, turning and shooting him straight in the head. You got there before anyone else did. The silence was loud as Tommy’s men couldn’t quite get their head around you, the nicest woman they had met, you had just shot someone dead without hesitation.

Billy’s men instantly raised their weapons in your direction, but didn’t shoot, “Tommy and Billy fought fairly. He didn’t win, end of story. Now fuck off” you ordered, turning and marching through the peaky lot before disappearing into the Shelby household.

Not even a few minutes later, the group followed and pulled in a wounded tommy. You didn’t even bat an eyelid, used to this shit, it was his shoulder. He would survive. But it still wasn’t nice seeing him in pain.

You sat in silence, while Jeremiah Jesus worked on trying to get the bullet out of Tommy’s pierced skin, downing whiskey after whiskey. No one seemed to talk to you, instead looked at you with worry. Their outlook on you had changed within the space of 20 minutes.

Tommy was now up, the bullet was now out of his skin and we were then all pushed into the room where Danny Wizz-bang’s body lay before us. You had rarely seen a dead body, infact everyone seemed to shield you from the violence but not today. You stood to the right of Tommy, it didn’t bother you in the slightest. He kept giving you an eye, full of concern, unsure how you were going to act.

You zoned out when Tommy spoke, you had never really spoke to Danny before. So this wasn’t much of a deal to you personally, you were awakened from your thoughts when Tommy was shoving a bottle infront if you, “Danny Wizz-bang,” you spoke, raising the bottle then downing a bit before passing it on to John for him to do the same. It went round the group that surrounded the table, before it got back to Tommy.

The place was lively, full of people drinking, and talking of heading to the Garrison. You couldn’t be arsed, sick of the sight of Tommy looking over at you constantly.

“Why do you keep looking at me?,” you spat. Having enough of him.

“You just killed an enemy of mine without even blinking an eyelid.”

“You all seem to think I’m so nice, eh. Not the right woman for Tommy, eh. Well I’m done being fucking nice.” The pause was loud, as you walked to the door, “and may I add, that did not bother me in the slightest. You all have just shielded me so much you didn’t know how much I could handle.” Slamming the door behind you, turning up to go back to your house.

“You’ve got to give her a chance Tommy. She’s tougher than you think.” Ada advised her older brother. Tommy nodding in response, knowing he was starting to realise what he really had.

You were in your house not only five minutes before he burst the door open, finding you sipping a whiskey on your couch, “I’m not going to keep doing this tommy. This is the second time in two months.”

He had done this before, and like you, couldn’t stay away. He couldn’t bare to walk past you in the street, perhaps you being with another man. It would tip him over the edge that he was already so very close to.

“We’re not going to keep doing it. I’ll give credit where it’s due.” He started to come closer to you, taking your hands in his, pulling you up to him, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He took your hand placing it at the back of his neck, twisting his hair in between your fingers. You pulled him into you, pressing a kiss onto his lips. He pulled you in closer, hands holding your waist.

“I love you Tommy. When will you fucking realise that.” You whispered to him, your forehead touching his. He smiled, “I love you.”

He pulled your face into his, his fingers intertwined in your h/c hair. Their tongues intertwined with each other’s, as the kiss deepened. You started to unbuckle his trousers, dropping them revealing his already hard length. You pulled back from the kiss and dropped to your knees, not breaking eye contact as you took his erected length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He let out a soft moan, carfullly moving your hair out of your face. You started to suck on it, bobbing your head up and down, satisfying him, as he threw his head back in pleasure.

He couldn’t wait any longer, he just longed to fuck you hard. He pulled you off your knees, taking your hand into his as he pulled you into the bedroom, pushing you back on the bed as he lifted up your dress over your head. He traced his fingers over your thigh, placing soft kisses as he went reaching your pussy he pulled down your black lace thongs off, you flicked them off your legs. He placed two fingers in between your slit, running up and down slowly, “wet eh?” Pushing his finger into you, slowly going in and out,

“Tommy.” You breathed. He smiled before pushing a second finger and going a more steady pace, pulling them out and sticking his thick shaft into you, thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You started to arch your back, gripping at his hands, and he started to increase his pace, beginning to thrust at a rapid pace.

You pulled back, and pushed him back onto the bed, sitting on top of his erect penis, slowly bouncing on the tip, every few bounces pushing it all the way in. He threw his head back, mouth just ever so slightly open, “y/n” he stuttered.

You instantly started to ride him, his body almost non existent, starting to twitch at how close he was becoming. “Make me cum,” he edged you on, “please.”

You give him a smirk, before increasing the pace, he gripped your thighs, rocking you as you took the lead. Bouncing on his cock, was making you very close, bouncing as you both came to the high, falling into his bare chest, both of you breathing heavily attempting to recover from the love that you both had made.

-

Following the weeks of the murder of Billy Kimber, you noticed a drastic change in how people treated you. People would always still mutter a hello, however would step out of your way, and you were close to being feared just about as much as Tommy himself.

You were walking Into the shop, placing your coat down as you went to make a cup of tea before starting the day. You noticed Polly staring at you, “what are you looking at pol?” You laughed slightly, turning to face her, cup of tea in hand.

“Come here,” she motioned towards you, cupping your left boob into her hand. You furrowed your brows, wondering what the fuck she was doing, “your pregnant. It’s a boy.”

You were in total disbelief, you stumbled back into a chair closest to you, “fuck sake.”

“Tommy’s?” She asked, and you gave her a look of disgust, “yes obviously it’s Tommy’s.”

“For fuck sake”, you moaned, just as Tommy himself walked into the shop. Placing a kiss on your cheek as he walked past into his office, you rolled your eyes at pol who raised her eyes brows in response. Sighing following him into the office, “morning.”

You sighed, “got something to tell ya.” He placed the bit of paper that was in his hands down, turning his full attention onto you. “eh, I’m pregnant”

His eyes went wide, “are ye really?” He smiled, quickly getting up and making his way over to you, taking your hands into his.

“Boy.” You could barely string a sentence together, you knew he would be happy but with how rocky everything was recently you were slightly unsure.

“Boy eh? Someone coming for my crown.” He repeated, “this is great news, now go home. No woman of mine will be working here while carrying my child”, he ordered.

He placed a kiss onto your lips, soft, sweet, “I love you so much, you have no idea,” he muttered to you.

“I love you too, and baby boy,”

“And baby boy,” he repeated, a wide smile spread across his face.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Brahms's Lullaby ~ Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Note: Why do I love Brahms? Fuck if I know. Anyway, this is what happens when a a meek, cute girl moves away from her old life to turn the page and find herself once again...And yet, her dark past quite literally comes back to haunt her.

'That's one huge manor...' Y/N thought to herself, the back of her neck straining as she scanned it from the bottom to the very top of the roof. The grip on her luggage tightened as she gulped in anxiety, and after taking a few deep breaths, she entered in this house, and immediately got greeted by the elderly woman who was the mistress of the house.

Y/N wasn't sure if it was her who was just nervous about the drastic change in her life, or if the woman was simply incredibly intimidating, but hey, as far as she was concerned, this woman won't be staying with her, so she will be all alone in the house, taking care of a child...How bad could it be?

Oh wait. Y/N hates children. They are so loud, bratty, obnoxious, entitled, rude...And the list could go on for ages, but she couldn't loiter in her mind any longer, and instead, she had to memorise where each room was, and what instructions the woman was saying.

She couldn't believe it, but she was glad she chose to wear a pair of comfortable sneakers, for she kinda got tired going up and down the manor...But what could she do anyway?

The kitchen got introduced to her, the woman told her to keep the leftovers in the freezer, told her about Malcom the delivery boy and how he's the only one allowed to bring her stuff. Weird, but what could she do? P'haps the child has a very strict routine that they must stick to, otherwise they'll feel weird and uncomfortable. Who knows?

And then, she showed her the music room, and while she wasn't paying much attention to the woman who turned on the music on the radio rather loud, Y/N looked around, inspecting the musical instruments, especially the piano, and the music sheets neatly displayed - "Brahms's Lullaby" it was called.

"Oh, is the child a fan of Johannes Brahms?" Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, as she gently traced her fingers over the keys. "Yes, he is. In fact, the child is called Brahms." the woman spoke a bit sharply, looking her up and down with eyes that almost seemed...Judging, for some reason. "What a lovely name. When will I meet little Brahmsy?" she asked, and as soon as she used that nickname, the woman's jaw got set, and Y/N could swear she was gritting her teeth in anger at her. "...Brahms. His name is Brahms. You will meet him right now. Come on." the woman went on ahead and opened a room, where a doll was sitting in a chair, neatly dressed like a gentleman, while next to him, crouching, an elderly man, who she could only assume was the woman's husband, the master of the house. "Oh, my dear Brahms...This is Y/N, she is here to be your new nanny. Miss L/N, this us Brahms, and he will decide whether he accepts you or not." ...a doll? She...Has to babysit...A doll? Well...The pay is good, and she's veeeery far away from her old home, so...No new beginning happens within your comfort zone, right? "Hello, Brahms, it's great meeting you. I hope we'll get along well." with a sweet smile on her face, Y/N crouched down if front of the chair and took the little hand of the doll, shaking it carefully. "...Fine enough. Now, could you give us some time alone? Brahms will decide now." with that look on her face, while the old man looked at her with pity, and...Relief, maybe? Y/N exited the room, only to see a man standing in front of her, wearing an amiable smile. "Oh, hello there, you must be the new nanny. I'm Malcom, the delivery boy. Well, delivery man. Nice to meet you." very charming... "Ah, yes, I've heard about you. My name is Y/N, nice meeting you as well." she replied politely, although she could sense the flirt he was failing to put forward. "If you want, some day, I can show you around the town. It's small, but kinda pretty." he continued in the same manner, and Y/N replied with simple answers, until finally, the woman opened the door widely, with an even wider smile. "Brahms has decided that you are suitable to be his new nanny, congratulations." how the human behaviour can change so drastically, doing a whole 180, in a split second. "Thank you so much for accepting me, Brahms! I'm sure we'll get along well!" Y/N clapped her hands together to her chest in a cheerful manner, as the elder man left as well, allowing his wife some more farewell words with the doll. "Here, I made you a simplified list of rules you must follow. You don't have to wake up at 7 in the morning every day like my wife told you, but you must make sure all of these are taken care of, alright, miss L/N?" the man asked, handing her the paper which she attentively read. "Yes, of course, I will do as instructed without fail. Thank you for having trust in me with your dear Brahms. Have a lovely trip and I hope you get a well-deserved rest!" Y/N wished them, and for a split second, she almost thought the man's eyes flashed with shock and sorrow. What was going on anyway...? This family is...Peculiar, to say the least. Well, no matter, she will be paid weekly, and with the pretty generous amount she earned while working as a doctor, she should be able to afford anything she'd want, so she won't get bored.

And so, the Heelshires left, and she was all alone with the doll - Y/N decided to make her new bedroom to her liking, as much as possible, with Brahms sitting on a nightstand, as she was humming whatever tune that went in her mind, and swaying carefreely.

"You know, Brahms? I wasn't expecting you to be a doll. But frankly, I think this is better. Children are annoying...But you? You're really nice. And you're not loud or obnoxious. I think we'll be great friends." speaking to a doll...I guess that's how far in my loneliness I've gotten. Tragic, really...She thought as she realised how much of a crazy person she'd look like, were someone to see her. "Since it's already evening, let's go make some really good dinner, and then we can play the piano a bit? Maybe even watch a movie together?" she picked up the doll and went to the kitchen, and looking in the fridge, then at the utensils available, she put together a nice dinner, and put it split in two plates, one for her, and one for the doll, and to keep away the boring silence that hung painfully throughout the house, she put on some LoFi music on her phone, and ate, feeling more peace now than she ever did. "Hmmm...I know your mum told me to put the food in the freezer...But it's better eaten while still warm. I don't think you'll like it if it's stone cold...So, I'll leave it here, on the table, and see how it is. If you don't like it, and you want me to put it in the fridge, just tell me, and I'll do as advised." ...Just tell me? JUST TELL ME? Girl, are you out of your mind?! As if a doll could speak...

After she washed her plate, fork and knife, she picked up the doll once again, and went to the music room, putting the doll on the piano, and cracking her fingers, she let them glide over the claviature, creating a beautiful melody echo through the room, and maybe Y/N didn't realise, but she had a glowing smile on her face, and she visibly relaxed and felt at ease, as if she was flying through the fluffy clouds.

"I haven't done this in so long, I'm surprise I'm not rustier. I hope you liked it too, Brahmsy. Now, let's go to be. Do you want to sleep in my room? Come on, I'm a bit anxious to sleep by myself in this huge, creepy house." she mused as she got to her room, carefully putting the doll on her pillow and after going to the bathroom to change in her cutesy Unicorn Pusheen nightgown, and turning on her laptop, she put on Harry Potter, one of her comfort movies, and cuddling with the doll, she gave it a little kiss before getting engulfed in the story once again, and falling asleep without realising.

Everything was peaceful in the house in the morning, until Y/N reached the kitchen to make some light breakfast, only to find a paper on the table, with beautiful cursive writing in ink on it.

"Warm is better, thank you :) "

Frankly speaking, it freaked her our enough to get a panic attack and barricade herself in her room for the whole day, her bedroom locked and too afraid to leave that place for the whole day.

Oops.

After this, days on end, and then weeks passed by uneventfully, as Y/N took care of Brahms with no problem, Malcom came by to give her the groceries, the pay and anything that she'd order online, she'd chat with some old friends, would watch movies, would go out to plant flowers and tend to the garden, would dance around, happy to bask in the warm Summer sun, would read whatever books she likes, with the doll in her lap, and she realised that she never felt more relaxed and free in her life.

It was pretty cool not having to work for money, huh?

But one day, when she was out in the garden, barefoot and with a cute, flower dress on, her long, beautiful hair, accessorised with a colourful flower crown, and she was dancing to the music on her phone, she noticed a figure somewhere from the forest. It was unmoving, almost as if it was staring, and it startled Y/N. It startled and frightened her so much that she quickly picked up the doll and went inside the house, making sure all windows and doors are properly locked, and the drapes are closed, so nobody could get in.

That night, she kneeled on the bad, an upset frown on her face, as she felt her eyes watering slightly, looking down at the porcelain doll of the little boy.

"It's moments like this when I hoped you were human, Brahmsy. Not a child...But a man. I'm scared...I'm so scared...I don't like being alone. There was some creep outside in the forest, and it was staring at us. What do I do, Brahmsy? What am I supposed to do...?" as she felt a few tears streaming down her face, she sighed, hanging her head down, raking her fingers down her face in mild desperation. "...Who am I kidding, you're just a doll, you're not human. Why the hell do I even bother. I'm going to die here, sooner or later..." her voice was filled with dread and resignation as she got under the covers, clinging onto the doll as if her very life depended on it.

Since that very day, she continued seeing the silhouette of a tall man, standing there, menacingly stalking her every single day, from different places, until she heard the phone ring, and reluctantly, she answered.

"...Hello? Who is there...?" she muttered, gripping the phone anxiously, awaiting and answer. "You don't recognise the voice of the man that made you feel good every night?" her breath stopped completely hearing that awful voice she hoped never to hear again. Instead of answering, she slammed the phone down.

But it rang again.

And again.

And again.

Until it drove her mad and she disconnected it completely.

It wasn't like anyone would call her anyway, and if they wanted to contact her, then they could text her on her private phone, or on social media.

Why can't she just get some peace anywhere? She just wanted to get away from all hell she was put through at home...But now, it seemed like Hell was inclined to follow her to the ends of the world.

The stress and fright from this increased when she received multiple pictures of herself from either outside the house, or even inside, which is when she realised the stalked from outside was, in fact, the one who called her on the phone. It was her horrible ex.

And one horrible night, as she gripped on the doll to dear life, walking down the corridors of the huge manor, checking for the thousandth time that everything is locked tight, she heard a noise.

What was she supposed to do...? She couldn't run out of the house, everything was locked...And could she hide? Not really, she was sure he'd check all the rooms without fail.

So...What could she do except try to hide in her room?

She waited in her wardrobe, knowing very well that, if he were to get inside her bedroom, he would check every nook and cranny, but even so, she felt safer in a cramped, tight place, than outside in such an open room.

Mere seconds felt like outright centuries, she heard the door slam open, making her jump in fright, her hand to her mouth, so she'd muffle any sound she'd potentially make from her hyperventilating. She knew, it would be long before he checked the wardrobe, but gosh...The anticipation made her anxiety skyrocket.

Until it finally happened.

Y/N found herself being dragged from inside her safe place by the hair, thrown to the ground, but not once did she let go of the doll that became some sort of a comfort object for her.

"So that's where you were, Y/N! I missed you! It's been a while, hasn't it?" oh no, that overly sweet voice...It's nothing but poison. It was so bad that her bottom lip started quivering with fear as she tried to crawl away from there, but obviously, to no avail. "Wheeeere are you going, darling? Didn't you miss me? Come on, give me a hug!" he grinned, grabbing her and trapping her in his arms, and she couldn't help but tremble in disgust and fear as she felt his hands roaming in places it shouldn't. "Why aren't you talking to me? Why aren't you saying anything? Come on, let me hear you voice! ...DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT!" ah, his facade crumbled much faster than expected, and that aggressive scream in her face as he roughly pushed her in the wardrobe door made her whimper and wrap herself around the doll, trying not to let tears fall down her face and just...Praying for all this to be over...To be just a nightmare..."What the fuck is with that doll anyway? Why do you cling on it, and not on me? Give that here." but she didn't let go, and seeing how she was opposing him, he forcefully grabbed her face before slapping her before snatching away the doll from her arms. "Sheesh...It's so fucking ugly. No wonder you stay with this, it's the only thing that would stay with someone like you. So ugly, dumb, annoying...You should be grateful that I'm here! Nobody in this world wants you! You're worthless and you deserve nothing. Do you hear me? You ARE nothing! Better thank me nicely for coming all the way here for you! Nobody would bother doing ANYTHING for you!" he yelled at her, as she cradled her face, crying, but also fearing being seen crying, remembering how bad it would get. "Don't her Brahms...Please...Please don't hurt him..." she begged and pleaded over and over, but it only seemed to ignite more anger in his eyes. "You only beg me with that sweet voice of yours...To save your stupid...Thing? Really, Y/N? You're pathetic. You're stupid. You're disgusting. Fuck you and fuck your stupid doll!" and with that, the jerk started slamming the fragile porcelain doll on the wall, ignoring the desperate pleas from the girl. "NO! NOOOOOOOO! No....! Brahms, no...! What has he done to you..." Y/N crawled to the place where the doll's porcelain head was slammed apart, and she let tears fall over as, with shaky hands, she tried to piece together the overly-fragmented head, only to get pulled back by the hair and slammed on the ground, as he pushed himself upon her, his hands grabbing at her exposed flesh, her light nightgown offering close to no protection from the lecherous predator, and her weak, noodle arms, just like before, offered no resistance to his significantly stronger, bulkier built, and no matter how much she tried to fight back, she knew...She knew that struggling never helped, no matter how much she tried. It never did. And it only made it hurt more.

But then...Before she knew it, a loud noise, like that of an explosion, or destruction, came from somewhere in the room, startling the poor girl enough to make her scream in fright, while the predator jumped to his feet looking at the hole in the wall...

Only for a pair of hands to slowly creep out of the wall, tredging along the wooden walls, and then, a head wearing a porcelain mask creepily got out, followed by 2 legs and a body. It seemed to be a man, very tall - In fact, taller than her ex - , but while yes, his dramatic entrance startled the two, the man only got angrier, ready to fight the intruder, while the petite girl only got more frightened by the commotion, dragging herself in the safest corner of the room, shaking, guarding her head with both her arms, hoping again and again that this was all a nightmare, and it would end already - It was beginning to look so much more incredible, like a weird fantasy movie...This can't be real, right?!

"Y/N! Help me!" the voice of a child called out her name, almost strangled and desperate, and peeking at the brawl on the ground, she noticed her ex trying to strangle the stranger, whose head was leaning, his eyes fixated on hers.

He went out of the wall as soon as she got attacked...He was trying to protect her...Maybe? So...She got up, trying not to attract the attention of her ex, and taking ahold of the lamp on her nightstand, she brought it down hard against her ex's head, making him groan in pain...But he didn't fall. He didn't faint, like you see in movies. Instead, he got up, glaring at the meek girl and snatched away the lamp, throwing it away.

"You fucking bitch...Now you've done it." his voice was so dark that she was sure this was game over, so she bolted out of the room as fast as she could, but the labyrinthine house was impossible to navigate, and before she knew it, she found herself in a dead end, with no escape.

However, instead of seeing her ex with the wrath of a raging bull, she noticed the stranger slowly making his way towards her, his shoulder slouched, his dirty, once white, tank top now splattered with fresh blood, as is the rest of his outfit. But his hands were up, almost as if to say that he 'surrenders', as he stepped right in front of the trembling girl.

"Please don't kill me. Please don't hurt me. Please, please, please, I will leave you alone, I will go away, I will do want you want, please don't hurt me." even her voice was shaky, her arms crossed to protect her face, and her eyes closed in fear, so she didn't notice the curly haired man slowly crouching down in front of her, his head tilting slowly, before he gingerly grasped her wrists, pulling them away with such gentleness that she never knew. It was so weird for someone to be so careful with her body...With her...That she opened her eyes, doe-like, looking at the man's wide eyes that peered through his mask. "I am Brahms." but this time, his voice wasn't like that of a child, but not did it sound rough and hoarse, like her ex's. It was soft and delicate, masculine, but not too much. It was soothing. And what Brahms once saw to be the most frightened eyes, remembering how scared Bambi was when his mother died, yet now, they had more of a curious spark. "I won't hurt you. I promise. Don't leave." the once tense girl visibly relaxed under his touch, as he let go of her wrists and letting his knees touch the floor, he leaned forwards, between her legs, to get closer to her, and touched her face with both of his arms, wiping away her tears, surprised at how soft her skin was...Is it was a flower petal feels like? He remembers overly descriptive books where women are seen as different delicate things...A flower, a fawn, a butterfly, a nightingale, the Moon, and so many others...And he could finally understand why. "You are safe now." he continued, thinking it would make the girl smile, but instead, even more tears leaked down her face, and she threw her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her, his body flushed to hers...And he stood there, stiff, shocked at the situation he was in.

What was he supposed to do now? Touch was so foreign to him...But he loved it so much! It was so warm, it made him happy! He wanted the girl to be closer and closer to him. He remembers what she did daily to his doll - What was it called...A cuddle? - Yes, he wanted that. He NEEDED that.

He hated that man touching her - He was hurting her - Only HE can touch her. He deserved to die. He deserved to fuck off. All he has to do is get rid of the body, and the rest can go on as it always has been - Except, instead of Y/N cuddling the doll, she will cuddle him every night, and she will kiss him.

"Thank you, Brahmsy. Thank you. Thank you so much." she continued thanking him over and over again, but he didn't answer. Instead, his hands slowly made their way on her waist, then went to the curvature of her hips, then to her thighs, and without any warning, he lifted her up, indirectly forcing her to glue herself to him even more - Not before hearing her cute squeal of surprise - And he carried her to one of the guest bedrooms, shivering a bit as he felt her warm breath on his bare neck - It excited him, but he didn't understand really what it was - But it was enough to make him bite his lip behind the mask and his grip on her thighs strengthened a bit, under the pretext of making sure she doesn't fall by mistake.

Luckily, he reached the bedroom and closing the door behind, he got in bed, holding her close as she stood in his lap, so close that he could feel her rapid heartbeat slowing down little by little. It was no misunderstanding, she was getting more and more comfortable around him. He was her protector, and he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her ever again. She was his. Nobody else's. Only his.

They stood like that for a while, just holding each other and calming down, before Brahms turned the both of them to the side, and he hugged her tightly to his chest, playing with her hair, not letting her go for the whole night. His embrace was warm, and Y/N felt so safe - As never before, not even in her parents' home. She felt...Good.

The next day, she woke up still in Brahms's arms. She wasn't sure if he woke up or not, but she leaned to plant a soft kiss on the forehead of the mask, as she raked her fingers through his dark, curly hair, but before she knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around her torso, hugging her close to his chest.

"Good morning, Brahms. Did you sleep well?" her sleepy voice was so cute...He wanted to wake like this every day...As an answer, he merely nodded. "I'm happy to hear that. Come on, we have to eat breakfast, then take a shower...And after that, we can do whatever we want. Sounds good?" she asked, getting up and holding his arms, urging him to follow her. "No shower!" ah, the childish voice again, I see... "Then...How about I shower with you? I have some cute rubber duckies, if you want." she tried to appeal to his inner child, which seemed to pique his interest. "...Only if you wash me." he muttered, making the girl chuckle. "Okay, sure, sure. Let's eat something first. I think there's some milk and cereal." she remembered how much she loved to eat that every morning before going to school, when she was little.

She prepared two bowls and they ate in silence, until Brahms muttered that he wants to hear the music she usually puts when eating - And grinning at him, she put on LoFi music once again, which seemed to make the boy happy too.

After that, they went to the bathroom, and while Brahms waited for the tub to get filled, Y/N went to get the clothes in the washing machine, while getting some fresh clothes for the both of them. Apparently, he actually had other clothes, he just didn't want to bother washing or changing...For who knows how long...

As Brahms got in the tub, only briefs on, playing with the duckies, Y/N kneeled by the tub, taking the flower-scented showed gel and the sponge.

"Get in the tub too." Brahms put his arms on the tub edge, leaning his chin on them, looking at her attentively. "We don't have much space in the tub." she explained, but he had none of it. Instead, he rose from underneath the water, picked her up with a weird ease, and got her in the tub, not before splashing her, so her nightgown was soaked so she couldn't protest anymore. "...Fine, you got me. Let me clean you, then." she shook her head with a sigh as she heard him chuckle, gripping her wrists and pulling her to sit on his lap. Did he really like it that much, she wondered. "Can I shave your chest and neck, Brahms?" she asked as she trailed her hands over his chest, shoulders and arms, scrubbing with a sponge, one hand always finding its way on either her hip or her leg. The answer came in the form of a nod, and she reached to the sink to get a shaving blade and very carefully, making sure not to irritate his skin, or cut him by mistake, she cut down the overgrown, stinky, unwashed hair. In the end, his skin was finally clean and soft and smelling like roses and vanilla. "Let me sit behind you, I have to wash your hair." he seemed pretty exited, feeling her legs on either side of him, his head leaning back so her fingers could work miracles - He felt in heaven - He was so spoiled, and he loved every second of it. The shampoo smelled really nicely too, he had to admit. But her fingers massaging his scalp...Ahhh, it was so perfect, he was almost sure he'd fall asleep. "Let me wash you too!" he said, and in a split second, he could feel the girl's body stiffen, her eyes going wide, and her face...It was beginning to turn pink...? Was she...Blushing? "Ah, uhm...Well...Y-You can wash my hair, if you want?" she was stuttering! So cute! So cute, in fact, that he pinched both her cheeks, and they felt like marshmallows. "H-Hey, stop, that hurts." she pouted as he teased her. He loved that. "Yay!" Brahms cheered as he got her back glued to his chest, his hand gingerly tracing her neck, making her lean her head back, just as he did...But why did he like the sight of his hand wrapped around her neck? He didn't want to hurt her...But the visual was getting him feel weird things.

He followed the same routine as she did to him - Massaging her scalp, putting shampoo, rinsing, then this...Conditioner? Oh, it smelled nicely...And this is called...Hair mask? Ah, this is coconut scented! And she is smiling! She has a kitty smile! She looks like a cute little kitty!

After the bath time was over, Y/N wrapped him in a bathrobe, and while he wasn't paying attention, she quickly took off her nightgown and put another bathrobe on tying it tightly, and guiding the man back to their room, so she could use a hair dryer to dry both their hair, before brushing it neatly, so they could dress up...And he insisted she dressed in that cute, flowy, flower-patterned dress

"There, all good. What do you want to do now, Brahmsy? Do you want to go in the garden and see the flowers?" she asked, a bright smile on her face, both her hands holding his, and he could see her eyes were basically glimmering, pleading him to go out with her...But he hated the outside...Hmmm...

He grumbled a bit, but ultimately, he let himself be dragged outside - He hissed a bit, as if he was a vampire getting burnt by the sun, but after a while...He didn't find it that bad...? And the flowers in the garden were so pretty...!

"Hey, Brahms, take off your shoes and socks. Feel the grass. It will make you feel so calm and peaceful...Here, how do you feel?" she asked, intertwining her fingers with his. "It's...It tickles." he muttered, looking down and wiggling his toes to get used to it. "Come sit down with me. Watching the clouds is really relaxing." she said, helping him sit down, then laying on their backs. Instead of staying apart, however, Brahms pulled her close to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "...But it's kinda boring..." he muttered, as he started kneading her arm up and down, massaging it from sheer boredom. "Look, Brahmsy, that cloud looks like a bunny, don't you think?" she put her finger up in the air, pointing to one of the clouds passing by. "Ah! You're right! And that one looks like a dragon! And that one looks like a butterfly! Look, Y/N, it's so pretty!" his boredom dissipated quickly and it got replaced by excitement instead - Very wholesome, the girl thought as she looked at the person next to her getting so happy over such simple things.

They stood outside until evening came, and they could watch the beautiful sunset, the sky painted with the most gorgeous shades there are. "Let's get inside, dear, it's getting cold. We don't want to get sick, right?" she smiled at him, only for him to hang his head down, and then he took off his cardigan and put it over her shoulders and pulled the girl between his legs, her back glued to his broad, warm chest and his embrace made her feel so warm and at ease. "Brahmsy...?" she asked softly, tilting her head up, before feeling his chin on top of her head, but she was met with silence. "The stars are pretty. You are pretty. Y/N is the prettiest, brightest star. Y/N is my star. I love my star." his soft voice was heard, almost whispery, and after a few more seconds, she felt the softest, sweetest kiss on her hair, then on her temple and on her cheek, before his chin found its place back on her head. "I love you, Brahms." she said, with teary eyes, intertwining her fingers to his, pulling his arms closer to her and squeezing his hands. "And I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

Needless to say, that comment made the man giddy and happy, for he, too, felt happiest now than he ever did before. When they felt tired, Brahms picked the girl up and got her back to their now shared room, dressed in their sleeping wear and cuddled, yet this time, Y/N was holding him, his head resting on her chest, as she played with his hair, soothing, and humming a lullaby to help him sleep.

It was Brahms's Lullaby.

[ererokii]

Pretend I Am || Zhongli

note: hi! This is super indulgent for some reason because I just wanted to write this so bad. Thank you @reddriot and @etegomanere for betaing!

Warnings: spoilers for archon quests (?) angst, insecurity, identity crisis

WC: 5.1k

Synopsis: After his first love joined dust once again, Zhongli can’t help but believe she’s still here, through you.

Staring into a mirror wasn’t the same as it was before. An image was put into your head, your mind playing tricks upon tricks that got you dizzy just thinking about it.

Many tales of the God of Dust were passed down from generation to generation. Your family seemed to be fond of her stories, especially hearing about the creation of the Guizhong Ballista.

The more you heard of her, the more you wanted to be her. She was your idol as a young child. A woman building something was not commonly heard of at that age, but it was possible.

Now at the ripe age of 24, you despised hearing of her.

Glaze lilies.

How horrid, yet so beautiful. Delicate shades of blue sprouting up at you, with a deeper meaning behind the petals that saddened you. Staring down upon them, you were drawn to them despite having harsh thoughts of these flowers. When the sun went down and the moon took over, you would be home and have glaze lillies in your vase by the window.

Amber eyes would stare at you from the hallway, drinking in your appearance. The funeral consultant, Zhongli, would look on with a rather perplexed and sorrowful expression. The amount of times he found you with Glaze Lilies by your side was enough for a pain to form in your chest.

And that’s how it started. Something as simple as a flower was able to ruin your own image.

Accidentally slips of the name would be heard, causing your head to perk up at the sudden change. Not long after, formal apologies would be sent your way, gloved fingers would intertwine with yours, thumbs rubbing your knuckles.

It felt as if you weren’t enough. Hearing her name felt like a spear being thrown through your heart, ironic because the one saying her name was Rex Lapis himself.

Many times Zhongli would go on a tangent, speaking about the era eons ago; the two gods ruling over Guili Plains. It never bothered you, but by the way he spoke so highly of her, how his voice got more soft to the point where it sounded like he was whispering; you knew he wasn’t over her.

And all you could do was listen with a sad smile and nod your head to the things he spoke about.

In Zhongli’s eyes, you were beautiful, ethereal, and intelligent.

Just like Guizhong.

-

Your words seem like idle chatter in the back of his mind as he peers over at you from the sofa in the main lounge of your shared house. Your back to him, hands moving to grab things. There’s a slight downward curve to his lips, his gloved finger tapping away at his knee as if concentrating.

His golden eyes take notice of the dress you’re wearing. A shade of white with intrigue designs at the bottom. The forsaken flower that seemed to the base of his problems, shined like gold in his vision.

With slightly widened eyes, he leans forward, his hand balled. His calm breathing changes to something shaky, a small pant leaving his mouth. His vision becomes cloudy, tears threatening to spill past his lower lids. The Archon wants to reach out and grasp, wanting to make sure she’s safe forever.

But dreams could hardly become reality.

“Zhongli,” she whispers, a concerned look plastered on her face as she turns around to gaze at him. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He recognizes the sleeves from her dress; something he made poked fun at her for being too big. But for some reason, he can’t see her features. All he can take notice is the Glaze Lilly tucked behind her ear, holding a strand in place.

He’s unable to say anything and blinks, the tear trickling down his face as he stares one more time.

“Zhongli,” you call out for once more, taking a seat beside him on the sofa. “What’s wrong, my love?” you whisper, cupping his cheek.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is raspy, eyes looking down at the floor. “I’m sorry..”

“W-What are you even sorry for? What did you do?”

And he doesn’t tell you. He composes himself and says he’s out for a walk, alone.

From that night on, he never brought up what happened. But you weren’t stupid; you knew what was going on.

It was growing harder for you to stare at your reflection. It felt as if your face was a lie— like you were being lied too. The longer you gazed at the mirror, the more you got confused. In the eyes of everyone, they see a young adult woman with unique features that could make her desirable to any man in Liyue.

But in your own, you couldn’t even see yourself. All you could see was the stem, leaves and petals of a Glaze Lilly. No matter where, no matter what, it was there.

She was there— someone you looked up to in your childhood years.

Your fingers hesitantly stroke the glass of the mirror, feeling the cold underneath your fingertips. They trace the outline of your cheek, to your eyes, to the curve of your nose. It wasn’t you.

“Who are you pretending to be?” you whisper, taking a step back as it becomes clear.

Staring back at you was a faceless woman, though she wore a frown identical to your own. Her clothes were drastically different from your own. Gold and white silk robes adore her upper body, the only thing your eyes can grasp. The woman seemed strangely distant, something that you couldn’t quite comprehend, something that wasn’t you.

Your hand shakily lifts to your face, your skin warm to the touch. Your chest heaves slowly, deeply inhaling as you exhale, pinching the skin of your cheek. It feels all too real.

Your hands travel over your shoulders to your chest; the clothing of your night time wear does not feel the same as the silk robes she is wearing. It feels too real, yet the person in front of you threw your sense of reality for a loop.

You admire your hand, staring at the palm and the back. It looked as if you were first staring at your limbs like you never have before.

“Guizhong,” you whisper, one hand gripping the counter of the sink, your body leaning forward to stare closely. A yellow stem catches your attention, eyes gazing at the flower in her hair. Mesmerized, you place your hand on your head, feeling for the petals.

In the reflection, she has a petal in between her fingers, rubbing it gently. But you— you’re rubbing nothing but a few strands of your hair. Disappointment runs through your veins, hand dropping back by your side.

Your mind is swirling with thoughts that scare you. The feeling of not being able to recognize yourself was driving you up the well. They were hallucinations, you knew that. You wanted them gone.

You wanted to be able to stare at yourself, to truly be able to do that and speak with confidence and say it’s you.

Now you aren’t able to do that.

Who are you?

-

You never told Zhongli how you felt about yourself; you didn’t want him worrying. Chances are he probably will never know.

A night out was something you desperately needed and that, Zhongli gave you. Not one for fancy things, you told him just going to Wanmin Restaurant would be enough for the two of you.

It was back to the good days when you first got with him. Laughter was shared between the two of you, looks of love and adoration was sent your way. His hand resting on your thigh, giving it an occasional squeeze as he speaks about the interesting history about Liyue (even though you practically knew everything already).

When it’s your turn to speak, you speak with confidence. He loved hearing the words effortlessly flow from your mouth. You knew how to hold up a conversation and draw someone in.

Not to mention how extremely intelligent you were. You talked about inventing things that no man has ever thought of but never brought yourself to do so. Maybe there could have been a weapon to protect Liyue from monsters now with the Archon gone.

“And then if that’s even possible...” you trail off, a sparkle in your eyes as your hands are lively, emphasizing your points. Zhongli can’t help but pay more attention once you talk about inventions. Maybe you could build something like the Guizhong Ballista? But then again, she was one of the smartest women in his lifetime.

He takes his eyes off the woman beside him for a second, watching the waiters pass him with trays of delicious Liyue delicacies being served to other customers. He glanced back over, freezing in his spot.

Guizhong continued to talk, letting out a sigh of defeat, her head hanging forward that showed her being displeased. “It seems almost impossible at this point.”

Instead of getting emotional like the last time, he lets out a hum, then chuckles. “You’re an intelligent woman,” he tells her, looking down at their plates of food that’s almost wiped clean. “I’m positive you’ll manage it.”

“You really think so, Morax?”

“Huh?” That catches his attention, his head snapping back over to the woman. “What did you say?”

“I said you really think so, Zhongli?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, lips pursed ever so faintly as you shift in your seat. “Are you okay? You seem out of it.”

He’s unable to answer, staring down at you with a frown. From your view, he looks disappointed. “Forgive me, I don’t mean to make you repeat yourself but...did you say Morax?”

You’re confused. You have no idea what he’s talking about.

“No,” you start, tilting your head to the side faintly, “I didn’t say Morax...maybe you’re hearing things. We can go back home if you’re not feeling good.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes for a split second before reopening. “Maybe I’m a little tired. It’s okay, darling. I’m fine really. Let’s just enjoy ourselves for the night.”

The calm and collected man did not seem okay, but you decided it was best if boundaries weren’t pushed tonight. “Alright,” you say with a small smile, grabbing his hand, squeezing gently. “If you say so.”

“I know so.” He leans closer, his hot breath against the shell of your ear, the hairs on your neck standing up. “You seem to doubt me on many occasions. Why is that?”

You scoff lightly, rolling your eyes as you turn your head to face him. “Oh stop it. You know I never doubt you.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so,” you say, copying his words moments prior; cupping his cheek and stroking his skin with the pad of your finger. “I love you, Zhongli,” you whisper, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss. His eyes flutter close, his hand dropping to rest on your waist, reciprocating the kiss.

And I…

That little incident of him hearing his old name did not go unnoticed. Throughout the day you would catch him staring at you like he was lost. His mouth would be slightly parted, eyebrows furrowed to the point where a small wrinkle formed in between them. Whenever you called him out on it, he would lightly shake his head to get his sense of reality straight again before brushing it off.

“Zhongli? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, my love.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Of course this worried you to no end. Maybe he was tired?

Maybe he was looking at someone?

Someone who wasn’t you.

-

A night stroll was something you both enjoyed immensely. The soft light of the moon gazing down at you, lighting up the dirt path of Dihua Marsh. No words were spoken between the two of you, rather enjoying the serene silence.

Your eyes focus on the trail in front of you, the leaves of the Sandbearer tree wisp in the cool air of the night. As you venture forward, you lightly kick the pebbles that rest by your foot, watching them roll forward or to the side. You earn a chuckle from the older man beside you; his eyes focused straight ahead.

There’s no definite place you’re headed too. At this point, you might as well be stuck here for the rest of the night.

At this time, monsters roam around, but tonight feels different. It feels as if you don’t have to watch every empty space of land to make sure nothing comes at you. There’s a churning in your gut, but you can’t put your finger on it.

Your eyes catch onto the river on the left side of the trail, the reflection of the moon evident in the rippling water. “That’s pretty,” you state softly, looking up at your lover, “don’t you think?”

“Mhm. I do believe it’s very beautiful,” he says, voice gruff and firm. His ponytail moves with every step he takes, the auburn color at the tips glowing slightly— something that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“This area used to be pure, untouched by wandering monsters, bearing their hands on any living thing. That of course was what happened before the rest of the Gods decided to take seat upon the divine.”

Divine was Celestia. You heard numerous stories told by storytellers that stay in the small restaurant in Liyue. Each story was unique— not like the other. Many citizens of Liyue often got into bickers when it came to telling the ‘true’ story.

The God of Salt’s people refused to call the Geo Archon by his name. Morax was basically poison to them. They believe Havaria was murdered out of sheer jealousy. But of course, that wasn’t true.

When you first heard the story by none other than him himself, you were in awe. Despite the brutality and casualties placed upon god after god and innocent citizens, it left you with nothing but questions.

“Man is known to let their greed take over every ounce of them. Of course, me being ruler over Guili Plains at the time, I had no choice but to protect my people...then the death of Guizhong–” He stops talking, tongue peeking out and licking his lower lip.

You take notice where you’re at now.

A small field of Glaze Lilies.

You watch his shoulders rise slowly as he inhales deeply before exhaling, letting his head fall back as he turns his face to the sky, eyes closed.

“I’m sure you remember me speaking about the Memory of Dust correct?” You nod to his question, following him quite closely as he begins to walk once more, hands behind his back.

“She gave it to me a few months after we met. It’s something no mortal can handle. Even I wasn’t able to open it. I spent months on end, trying my best to open the mystery that was contained inside. It was truly a challenge. But of course, she was a woman with extreme intelligence. Guizhong was the brain for the two of us.”

And thus Zhongli continued to speak highly of her. He shared the moments when the God of Dust. Cloud Retainer and himself would meet up for tea and lunch in Mt.Aozang. He spoke when they would take walks together in Dihua Marsh, walking through the glaze lilies; listening to her sing at the blooming flowers.

Hearing him talk about his previous lover set a fire within you. Insecurity ran through your veins when he would smile, bringing up something else that came into his mind. It made you feel as if you weren’t enough at this very moment.

But, it made you feel loved.

A warmth blossomed in the pit of your chest, your body feeling light and relaxed. The way his eyes sparkled to the way he gestured— everything just seems so perfect. Your lips curled up in a smile as you gazed up at him lovingly, your heart skipping a few beats to the nervous feeling in your stomach.

You were in love.

It was as if he was praising you. You were the intelligent woman, the most beautiful being in Teyvat all those years ago. Generous, kind, thoughtful. Each of those words, you thought it was for you.

You were going deeper and deeper into a hole you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of. Love was something that was meant to be cherished, but was also the more cruel thing a human being can go through.

Love made people blind, and you were one of love’s victims.

“She sounded amazing,” you comment, running your hands through the spot of glaze lilies you’re currently sitting in, the cool green grass rubbing against the palm of your skin.

“She was extraordinary.”

You hum in return, closing your eyes as a cool breeze whooshes by you, goosebumps littering your arms as you shudder under the cold. With the wind, the blades of grass danced under the air, the nearby flowers swaying.

Zhongli peers down at your seated form with the flowers. He watches with intent eyes, looking at the way your hands hold the plant, careful as if it were a form of porcelain.

He can’t help but feel sad as you stroke the blue petals with the tip of your finger, a faint smile on your lips. He pondered to himself; why were you staring up at him with a dumb founded look of love? Surely he wasn’t saying anything great at that moment.

He can recall the way you stared at him with half lidded eyes, like you were dozing off in your own dream state.

It throws him for a whirl. These past few weeks messed with his head— more than anything has in his life.

“Glaze Lilies were her favorite, huh?” you spoke up, bringing it closer to your nose, sniffing as the aroma filled your senses, a pleased sigh passing your lips. Your fingers mess with the stem, no thorns popping out from it.

“They… yes indeed they were.”

It’s silent for a moment before a hum breaks the silence.

Sitting in a small field of Glaze Lillies in Dihua Marsh, you hummed softly to yourself as you become one with the flowers in your mind. If all of Teyvat was silent enough, your melody could reach all ears; the young and the old.

A sheer screen of white flashes before Zhongli’s eyes, blinding the archon for a split second before his eyes snap open, a small pant leaving his lips.

It’s no longer night. The sun has risen for the day, the rays shining down on him.

His arms feel slightly heavy as he gazes down, notice the black and gold lines littering his arms; the color of Geo glowing with each second. He checks his palms then the back, taking notice of the white robe he now wore along with his slightly baggy pants and no shoes.

Unsure, he slowly lifts a hand to the top of his head, feeling a sharp pole coming from under the hood. His horns stood up, tall and proud for everyone to know that this was Rex Lapis.

It’s quiet among the trails in Dihua Marsh. Something catches his eye as he turns his head, noticing the small traces of civilization.

“Odd...everything was in ruin after the war,” he mutters to himself, the dirt rubbing against his bare feet.

Instead of being near the field like he was moments ago, he’s rather far away; the patch of flowers in the distance. Morax is confused as to how he ended over here but decided not to comment.

With each step he takes, the rocks buried in the ground poke at his feet, making him wince faintly in pain. He most definitely recalls wearing shoes before coming out in the open.

Everything now seems to be beautiful, at peace. Nothing was out of the ordinary, the old statues were up, not a single crack on them.

The walk seems to last a millennia to the God of Contracts but eventually reaches the green patch that leads to the blooming flowers.

The first thing he takes sight is the clothed back of what looks like a woman who happens to be sitting in the field. The second thing he notices is a flower of Liyue that rests in her hand.

As he gets closer, his ears catch the melody the woman is singing. It tugs at the strings of his heart, yet drags him deeper into the hole of curiosity .

The red baggy robes are the things he recognizes on the spot. The sleeves are far too large for this lady, the white belt that is loosely wrapped around her waist that gives the idea of carelessness; but the way she moves, the way her voice reaches his ears.

There’s no doubt in his mind.

He gets closer and closer with each note she hits before he’s only three steps away from her. His pupils are dilated, his hand reaching out to grasp.

It’s only seconds until he feels a droplet trickle down his face, dropping to the grass underneath him. One tear turns into two, then three until he’s quietly crying behind the woman, remembering every note.

His arms that glowed have now dimmed, faded from its bright color. His head is hung forward, shoulders slugged as he lets out a shaky breath, bangs brushing against his forehead.

“You know, you don’t have to stand right there and stare.”

“P-Pardon?” Morax stutters, lifting his head up to see the woman’s head turned faintly to where he can see the outline of her nose.

“I said,” she started, her voice soft yet demanding, “you don’t have to stand and stare like that. You can approach me too.”

“My mistake,” Morax clears his throat, one hand wiping away the clear liquid from his cheek. “I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

She lets out a laugh that makes his heart flutter. “You didn’t scare me. I was able to sense you when you were back there by the old tree. You have a very powerful presence, Morax.”

“I’ve been told that before by old friends of mine.” He peered down at her, taking in the shape of her nose. “Might I ask, what’s your name?”

“My name?” She asks, not giving him what he wanted. “And why might you need that?”

“Well shouldn’t every god know one another?”

She’s silent for one second before nodding. “I suppose you’re right.”

“My name is—“ she tells him but he doesn’t quite catch it. He asks for it once more but does not hear it again. Morax rubs his ear gently before noticing that she’s standing up; back to him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Morax. I think we’ll get along just fine,” her bare feet move in the grass blades, her body beginning to turn.

The wind gets knocked out of his chest, lips parted in shock. A face he’s been trying to remember for eons— isn’t the same as it was.

Her eyes sparkled, a gentle smile on her lips as she approached him. Her features were unique, something that looks awfully familiar but cannot put his tongue on it.

“Don’t you think?” Her head tilts to the side, lifting a Glaze Lily in front of their face. His bright eyes can’t even stare at the plant, fixated on her face that he seemed to see every day of his current life.

“I…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer me just yet, Zhongli.”

“What?” He asks in a whisper, voice barely audible to her ears. “What are you talking about?”

“I know, Zhongli.”

There’s a dull ache in his frontal, a hand clutching his forehead with a wince, eyes squeezed shut.

So many things hit him like a meteor. His head is spiraling, his heart feels as if it could burst out of his chest at any second. All he wants to do it lay down on the floor and let everything wash away. That seems like the best option.

“Zhongli...”

His eyes flutter open, adjusting to the now dark setting of Dihua Marsh. Clear liquid cascades down his face as he quickly scans the area. The old traces of civilization were now gone, the area nothing more than flora and fauna; the statues broken down.

“Zhongli.”

Your voice catches his attention, your body standing right in front of him, holding a glaze Lilly in front of your face.

It clicks in his brain for only a second when he sees the tear slipping down your face.

But the thing that throws him off the most is that beautiful smile you’re wearing.

Smiling through the pain as you told yourself many times in the past month. Your sad eyes aren’t even staring at him, rather looking at the petals that seemed to weigh as much as the rocks that surrounded the area.

Seeing your current state set off a small alarm within him. His hand as if automated too, reaches out and cups your cheek, a gloved thumb rubbing against the soft skin.

“What’s wrong?”

“This whole time–” Your voice is shaky, unstable as you steer your gaze to stare into his golden eyes. “–I was confusing myself to no end. Every night I would walk up the mirror and try to figure myself out but I never could. When I closed my eyes, I couldn’t see anything but this...this flower. It was all I saw.”

When you spoke, your smile never faltered. In all honesty, it was starting to get him a bit frightened at how calm yet broken you were.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Maybe you’re just tired?” he suggests, worried about your wellbeing. “You might be stressing yourself too—” You cut him off with a shake of your head, reaching up and cupping both of his cheeks, the stem rubbing against his skin.

“When you close your eyes… I know who you pretend I am.”

At this moment, his vision is blurry as more tears form before slipping past his lower eyelids. He’s unable to see your face, blinking the tears away, but more form in their wake. He’s unable to see you.

“I don’t understand what you mean...”

“I know who you pretend I am, and it’s okay.” Your lips brush against his own for a second, your tears mixing with his own.

Through his tears, he catches a glimpse of your face. To him, you look devastated. Your lips are down in a frown, your head hung forward with your body hunched just a tad, hands by your side. To him, you look done.

But you, you’re far from it.

The circumstances of the now don’t affect you as they did when you first caught onto the strange behavior. The longing glances, how he would spend his hours of the night trying to open the dumbbell that contained her wisdom. Not to mention the slip ups of her name being said rather than her own. Even in his sleep, you could hear him calling for her once in a while.

“I’m not upset. It took me a while to accept it but...I’m ready.” You bring the flower to your nose, taking a whiff then presenting it to him.

Once again the archon stares at you with a dumb founded look, something that was strange to see on him. He can’t say anything as you look forever different in his eyes.

It’s like your body was split in half, making two completely different people. The right side staring at him was Guizhong. His first lover and former ruler of the Guili Plains. Her eyes were sad with a smile, her body stiff as all she could do was stare at him.

The left was his current lover. Someone who went through months of denial, confusion and hurt. Your eyes shone as you offered nothing but a flower and your love and devotion to him.

Two women that happened to be one.

Yet one outshined the other.

“I’m ready to be who you want me to be.” Your hand runs up his face, tucking the stem of the flower behind his ear that now takes a seat in his black hair. “No matter how you see me as, my love for you can never change.”

Zhongli feels his heart flutter at your words and the small laugh that slips past your lips when you catch his look. Yet each time he closes his eyes, your face becomes blurry before going normal. Your clothes change, and so does the style of your hair. Everything changes once he closes his eyes to get his reality set straight.

I know who you pretend I am.

“Even if I’m not Guizhong, I’ll be her for as long as you need...until I die. I’ll always be here, Morax,” you whisper, gazing at his lips before pressing yours against his. Your arms slither around his neck, cradling the back of his neck.

Morax melts into the kiss, his arms encircling your waist bringing you flushed against him.

In his mind, he’s standing in Guili Plains with the sun shining down at him, the God of Dust currently in his arms as their people cry in joy that they found a safe place to live— two caring gods to watch over them forever and protect them from harm's way.

All the worries were thrown out the door as the now is most important to him.

But now, he’s standing in a field covered with the most beautiful flowers known to man, their petals swaying with the sudden harsh wind that hits against him and his lover.

After eons of waiting and in sorrow, Morax now has what he desired the most once the chaos of the Archon War was finished. To hold the one most important close again.

Unbeknownst to him, a single tear slips down your face as you begin to revel in the new identity you gave yourself. Pain will continue to surge through your veins but you could care less.

If Morax was happy, you will continue to be happy for him.

For you are Guizhong, the God of Dust. Lover of Morax.

I love you, Morax.

And I love you too, Guizhong...

taglist: @reddriot @kaqinq @thicmitten @katsuhera @novvabeam @patt-writes-stuff @etegomanere @tspice283 @bonitoge @mysticalchocolate @alexisskywalker @nyangorogoro030303 @frassycassy (add yourself to the Genshin taglist HERE)

[novaiya]

Diamonds and Rust - Arthur x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: It’s been six years since you left it all behind; the Van Der Linde gang, the outlaw life and Arthur Morgan. Since then you’ve gone straight, becoming a rancher and a wife. What will happen to all of it when Arthur comes bursting back into your life, bringing with him all the feelings and desires the two of you once shared?

Words: 3,274

Warnings: smut, female reader, pregnancy.

A/N: I’m very, very proud of this fic and I really hope you guys like it as much as I do. I wrote the entire thing in basically one sitting (blame it on excitement and inspiration). The idea came to me after listening to Joan Baez’s song Diamonds and Rust (and that is of course where the title comes from). Give it a listen, it’s a beautiful song! If you prefer, you can read it on AO3 here.

Well, I'll be damned, here comes your ghost again - Diamonds and Rust

You knew he was around as soon as you heard about a big group of people, men, women and children, passing on wagons through your town. The shopkeeper in the general store said that the group looked like bad news, the look with which they eyed everything and everyone belonging only to people who were running from something. On another day, you were at the train station, posting a letter, when you heard one of the postal workers say the name “Tacitus Kilgore” while rummaging through a bin. That sealed the deal for you, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he found you.

For the next few days you couldn't do anything but wait, expecting him to barge back into your life at any moment. Your husband noticed your absent-mindness, and tried to inquire, but you waved him away, blaming your mood on overworking.

Your husband didn’t know your past. You told him that you ran away from home when a group of outlaws attacked your house, killing your parents and stealing anything worth selling. That wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. What you omitted to mention was that later when you had nowhere to go, another group of outlaws found you, took you in and became your new family. You spent the next few years with them, moving from place to place, robbing, killing, and stealing. It was there that you fell in love for the first time.

Shortly after you joined the gang, you and Arthur became a great team, and later on, a strong couple. As the time went on though, you realized that you couldn’t live on the run forever; you wanted a family, a stable life, a house with a kitchen and a bath. You shared your feelings with Arthur, and he promised you that everything would change, that the two of you would run away, to Mexico, or maybe California, and start a new life. The new life was always at the end of “one last score,” which never seemed to come.

After yet another similar conversation, you realized that if you didn’t leave at that moment, you never would. The moonlight casted its light on Arthur’s sleeping face as you looked at him one last time, burning the image of him into your memory. Without turning back, you mounted your horse and left.

Although seeming asleep, Arthur was awake the entire time. He felt you leave the cot, stand next to it for a few minutes and then leave. He heard the hoofbeats in the quiet night, becoming softer and softer until they completely disappeared. He wanted to go after you, bring you back, but he realized it would be selfish. What you wanted, what you deserved, he couldn’t give.

.

It's been a week since you heard the name “Tacitus Kilgore” in the post office,   and Arthur still hasn't shown. You let yourself relax, thinking that maybe it wasn’t him in the first place, or maybe he has forgotten about you. It’s been six years after all.

Few days later, your husband had to go take care of his mother couple of towns over. He asked if you wanted to go with him, but you declined; someone had to stay and take care of the ranch, protect it from cattle rustlers and wild animals.

You helped him load up the wagon, making sure to pack extra clothes and food for the trip. You kissed him, the kiss being longer than what was necessary for a trip that would probably take only three days at most.

The wagon disappeared in the tall trees as you stood at the entrance of your ranch, waving your hand until there was no one to wave to. The cold, fresh morning air filled your lungs as you took a big gulp of it. You turned on your heels, heading back inside and preparing for a day of work.

Your day was mostly spent tending to the cattle and cleaning up. When the sun started to set, painting the sky a mix of purple and red, you went into the main house and prepared dinner. You pushed the food around on the plate. The suffocating emptiness of the house made you once again think about expanding your family. The time was perfect; the ranch was making money and the house was the right size with two extra rooms sitting unoccupied and being used for storage. But, it seemed that it wasn’t for you to decide; you and your husband have been trying for months now, yet nothing was happening.

Trying to muffle the thoughts in your head, you got up from the table and took your plate to the sink, leaving it there to be cleaned tomorrow.

.

The cotton nightgown felt cool on your skin as you changed into it. The oil lamp on your bedside table was just bright enough to illuminate the clock on the wall, indicating that it was far past your bedtime, and if you wanted to get anything done tomorrow, you should go to bed right away. You sighted, getting ready to go under the covers when you heard a knock on the front door, as sudden as thunder on a sunny day. You froze, your body trying to decide whether to fight or flee. You carefully left your bedroom, mentally cursing when the floorboard creaked under your feet as you inched closer to the front door. Another knock came. Your eyes flew to the shotgun by the door. Your breath came out shaky as you were preparing to grab it, open the door and shoot straight through whoever it was.

And then you heard it, his voice saying your name. You felt like you were drenched in cold water, six years worth of bottled up emotions and feelings flooding straight through you. Without thinking, you opened the door, meeting face to face with his blue eyes.

"Arthur."

.

The only thing illuminating the living room and the two of you was the fire from the fireplace. You could feel the heat from it kissing your bare arms. You went into the kitchen, bringing back one shot glass and a bottle of whiskey. You poured a glass for Arthur, placed the bottle on the table, and sat down on the couch next to him.

He downed it in one go before silence fell over, nothing but the occasional sound of wind howling outside.

"Beautiful ranch you got."

"Thank you," you said, keeping your answer short and not looking at him.

You could feel the weight of his stare on you; it’s been six years since he last saw you. You've changed so much, and at the same time, haven't changed at all. You still kept your hair the same length, still had the same longing gaze in your eyes, yearning for more in life. He saw that you still had a scar on your hand, the one you got when an O'Driscoll pierced it with his knife. Arthur said it would fade with time when he was bandaging it. Looking at it now, he realized that things don’t fade away so easily.

His eyes lingered on your hand for a moment, noticing a ring on your finger, the gold band shining brightly in the dimly lit room, taunting him.

"So, you got married?" he said, his voice laced with venom as he spoke the last word.

"I have," you replied, casting your eyes down to the golden band. "Couldn't wait for you forever." Your words pierced right through him, leaving yet another wound he would need to tend to later. For the past six years, he held a naive, wishful hope that when the time would come, you’d be there, waiting for him. The idea, as absurd and foolish as it was, kept him hopeful for the past six years.

"What's his name?"

"Don't," you said, turning around to Arthur for the first time since you sat down. "Don't do this."

The two of you fell silent once again, and you used that moment to look over Arthur. You could see the traces of the person you loved six years ago; he still had the same scars scattered across his face. His eyes, although sadder now, still had the same color to them. His arms, the ones that held you on many nights, still had the same muscular shape.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, catching your eyes. "It was my fault the things ended up the way they did."

You didn’t say anything, casting your eyes downwards, so he continued.

“I was awake, you know, the night you left.”

You gulped down, the memories of your departure from the camp filling your mind.

“I should’ve never let you go.”

"I should’ve never left." The words left your mouth before you could process them. You have promised yourself to never vocalize these thoughts, the thoughts that a part of you that never left him, that have been longing for him for the past six years, felt.

The atmosphere in the air shifted. You could feel the change in Arthur's eyes and his demeanor. He reached out and took your hands in his, running his thumb over your knuckles and your golden band. His other hand reached up to you, cradling your head and bringing the two of you closer. You could feel his breath on your lips, smelling of the whiskey you poured him a few minutes ago. Your mind was on fire. For a moment, you felt that you were six years in the past, sitting on a bed in a crummy hotel room in some beatdown town. The law was on your tail, but you didn't care. Nothing mattered when you were with Arthur.

He pressed his lips against yours and in an instant, you forgot where you were. Your hands moved on their own, reaching and waving your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss. He groaned against your mouth, his hand leaving yours and moving up the curve of your body, over your hips and your waist, stopping around your chest. You felt him palm you over your chemise, and for a second, you felt your mind clear. The guilt came in flooding. You felt his tongue lick over your bottom lip and you winced, breaking the kiss and trying to get away from him, pushing yourself deeper into the couch.

"I can't do this," you said, more to yourself than to Arthur.

You felt his hand on your knee, hot against the cool skin. You wanted to move, wanted to slap his hand away, but you didn't. His hand inched higher up your leg, reaching the end of your chemise.

Arthur looked at you, his hand still on your thigh. "You tell me to stop and I will. I will leave and never bother you again."

You hesitated for a moment, battling with yourself till you finally said, “Stay.”

.

He covered your body with his, pinning you against the couch. His lips moved against yours in a dance that the two of you knew well, having rehearsed it for years and years before. One of his hands was back on your thigh, massaging the skin as he moved dangerously close to your heat. You felt his fingers run over your clothed slit, pressing against your clit and making you push your hips towards him.

His lips left your mouth, moving to your neck, kissing down your throat and to the crook of your neck. You could feel yourself getting wet as he kept kissing you all over, his fingers drawing lazy circles over your clothed clit. He removed himself from you and pulled off his suspenders. You sat up, your fingers reaching out and working on the buttons of his shirt before throwing it on the floor. You ran your hand up his body, through his chest hair and stopping over his heart. You could feel it beat wildly against his rib cage.

You felt hazy as he kissed you once again. In a minute, your chemise was on the floor, joining his shirt in a pile and leaving your top half naked to him. He laid you back down on the couch, sitting on his hinges between your spread legs. He made sure to burn this moment in his memory, the image of you spread under him for what was probably the last time.

He pulled your drawers down, revealing you completely to himself. You felt like you should cover yourself, not let a man that wasn't your husband see you like this, but this wasn't just another man, it was Arthur. Being like this with him felt natural.

He paved his way down your stomach with kisses, finally reaching your glistering cunt. The first touch of his tongue against your slit made you moan, and you instinctively reached out with your hand, waving your fingers into Arthur's hair. He kept going, lapping at you and pushing all the buttons he knew would have you coming apart in minutes. You threw your head back, moaning his name when you feel him push a finger in you, his tongue turning its attention to your clit. You could feel your release approaching when he added a second finger, picking up the pace. The movements of his fingers were deliberate, working in tandem with his tongue. You started to move your hips in time with his fingers, your body giving in to your carnal desires.

Your toes curled and your whole body shuddered as you came. Arthur kept going, heightening your pleasures until it all became too much and he retreated. The sight of his lips, wet with your juices, made a fire ignite in your belly once again. You pulled him down, crashing your lips against his, moaning at the taste of you.

He was grinding his hips against you, the bulge in his pants hard and heavy. You broke the kiss, reaching down with shaking hands towards his pants, popping the button open and taking out his cock. He moaned your name, closing his eyes as you wrapped your fingers around him. You ran your hand up and down, relishing in the sound of his debauched voice moaning your name. After a while, he took your hand away from his length and kissed over your knuckles. Letting it go, he pulled down his pants, the last article of clothing joining the others on the floor.

He sat in his naked glory between your legs. He was just as you remembered him; big, strong and muscular. The air around him was filled with virility. Your primal urges filled your mind as you wanted nothing but to be filled by him. He sensed your longing, seeing it in your eyes, and smiled.

His lips found yours once again, kissing you so much that you couldn't think about anothing but him. You felt the tip at him at your entrance, slowly pushing in. Your hands found his biceps, holding on to him as he pushed deeper, stretching you around his shaft. He stilled when he was all the way in, trying to compose himself. For a moment, all that could be heard where the sounds of your combined breaths, haggard in the quiet living room. The light from the fireplace illuminated your naked bodies.

Finally, he moved, pulling halfway out of you before slamming back in. You clung to each other, your bodies molding into one. Your legs wrapped around his waist, letting him deeper into you as your hands clawed at his back, leaving red marks behind. The feeling of him inside you was intoxicating; he was made for you, hitting all the right spots, the sheer girth and length of him filling you perfectly. His lips were on your neck as he thrusted in and out of you, taking in your scent and the taste of your skin under his lips.

Arthur couldn't get enough of you; his eyes raked over every part of your body, taking it all in. You could feel his hands everywhere, holding on to your hips, massaging your sides, cupping your breasts. He wanted to feel every part of you. His touch was inebriating, heightening your pleasure to an unimaginable level.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, and so did Arthur. His movements became sloppier and out of rhythm, his desire for peak overwhelming.

He moaned your name, bringing your attention to him.

"I'm gonna cum," he said breathlessly, "where-"

You didn't let him finish, cutting in and saying, "Cum in me", not thinking about the repercussions of your words, your mind high on desire.

He dropped to his elbows, crashing his lips against yours as his movements became slower but rougher. You moved your hips meeting every one of his thrusts. The feeling of your tongue against his, your hands on his back and your warmness tightening against his shaft all became too much, and he came with a moan of your name, spilling his seed inside of you. The feeling of him coating your walls drove you wild, and you came a moment later, your legs shaking.

The weight of Arthur over you felt like a warm blanket, keeping you safe and shielded from the world outside. You could feel his staggering breath on your neck as he tried to bring his breathing down. You held each other like that for a few minutes, not moving. Two sweaty bodies, entangled in each other.

At some point in the night, the two of you moved to the bedroom, soiling the bed that you and your husband shared with your combined moans and desires.

You spent the rest night in Arthur’s arms. He held you tight against him as he told you about his travels and the state of the gang. You told him about the ranch, and how fulfilled you felt by the work. Both of you tried to avoid the subject of marital status.

You fell asleep to the beat of Arthur’s heart, your head on his chest, his in your hair.

In the morning, the two of you had breakfast, and he stayed till the evening, helping you with some of the chores around the ranch, playing family that the two of you never had a chance to become.

You watched him drive away on his horse, following the speck of him with your eyes all the way over the plain till it completely disappeared. You stood by the entrance of your ranch for a few more minutes. Out in the distance the chickens chirped. You still had to milk the cows and go to the general store. Breathing out, you looked up into the sky before turning back towards your house and your life.

.

Few months later.

You stood at the top of a hill, overlooking your ranch with your husband next to you. Cold wind blew through your hair. Winter was coming. You had to start making preparation for the colder months; make sure the cattle were healthy, create a water plan, add feeders and forage among other things.

Another rush of cold air made you shiver and pull your shawl tightly over your shoulders. Your husband's hand found yours, interlocking your fingers and making you look at him. He smiled at you. his eyes full of love and excitement, before turning back towards the ranch. You held your gaze on him for a moment longer, studying his features, before too turning towards the pasture, one of your hands in his, the other on your growing belly.

[biaswreckingfics]

Liminal: Part 1

Pairing: EXO x Female Reader

Genre: Witch!AU

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Some strong language

Summary: Magic. Murder. Mystery. You don't know when this became your life, but your choice in the matter is long gone. Someone is after you, someone is killing witches, and when a coven approaches you and tells you you're one of them? You're sure they're crazy. What's so magical about a girl stuck working in a greenhouse?

------------------------------------------------

Junmyeon swipes up the newspaper that Chanyeol had thrown down on the table with a sigh. Kyungsoo watches the anger take over his face as he reads the article they have all already had the displeasure of seeing.

Another senseless murder.

Another witch dead.

Everyone in the room shares the same frustration. The same anger and helplessness that is fleeting across Junmyeon's face at this very second, and they have no idea how to stop it.

This is the sixth body that has shown up in the past two months. The police think it’s a serial killer, but they have no real idea of what's happening. All they keep managing to do is get in the way of the people who actually have a chance of solving the murders - and they needed to be solved quickly before anyone else is killed.

None of the covens or elders can figure out why this is happening. What would someone gain from killing witches? Even worse, what would someone gain from killing witches that didn’t practice magic?

That is part of what shocked Kyungsoo. Not only were witches being slaughtered, but there were entire lines of witches hidden from the covens. Sure, he had heard of people going into hiding after the war centuries ago, but he hadn’t realized how many there were or that they were still in hiding after a couple hundred years.

Did those who were killed even know they were magical or was that knowledge lost to them a long time ago?

It was a surprise to the elders too. When the first few deaths occurred, none of them realized it was witches being killed off. The only reason anyone figured it out is because an Elder works on the police force. Kyungsoo didn’t know if it was his instincts or something about the way they were murdered that caused red flags to go off in the Elder’s head, but if it wasn’t for him, they still wouldn’t know. He raised concern, and others began tracing back the deceased familial lines, ultimately discovering it’s their own being murdered.

“What should we do?” Seoyeon quietly asks.

“You carry on with what you’ve been doing.” The High Priestess says as she sweeps into the room. “You keep perfecting your skills, and let the Elders keep tracing family lines.”

Jongdae watches her from across the room, already shaking his head as she speaks. “That’s not enough. We need to find these other hidden witches before whoever is killing them does.”

“How do you suppose you’re going to find someone you don’t even know exists?” She asks calmly, clasping her hands in front of her as she comes to a stop next to Junmyeon. When nobody offers her an answer, she continues. “Running around like a bunch of blind mice isn’t going to solve anything. Obviously, report it if you see any suspicious activity. Otherwise, let the Elders handle this for now.”

Her words frustrate some of the members, but they leave no room for argument. Besides, only fools would argue with their High Priestess. Though, something about her words sends a thought through Kyungsoo’s brain.

He has noticed suspicious activity lately at a place that he frequents quite often. At first, he thought it was just paranoia because of the murders, but now he thinks it’d be stupid to ignore. Especially when someone’s life could be at stake.

“The greenhouse,” his deep voice rumbles, causing everyone to look at him. “I’ve noticed odd people hanging around there, and they only started coming once the murders began. I thought it was in my head, but now I’m not so sure.”

He ignores the way his cousin’s eyebrows furrow and focuses solely on the High Priestess, who nods at his words.

“I’ll check into the employees that work there. For now, continue going there to keep an eye on things.”

------------------------------------------------

You hum to yourself as you bend down and check the sage plants for any bugs. There’s only about an hour left of work, and you figure this is the quickest way to pass the time. Plus, you didn’t mind this part of the job. It’s mindless and lets you escape into your fantasy world that is always quietly calling your name.

“Did you know that some people use sage to ward off evil?”

You jump when you first hear the deep voice next to you, but a smile quickly grows on your face. Kyungsoo. One of the greenhouse’s most consistent customers and definitely one of your more favorite customers. His monotone voice would make you think he’s bored, but you could always hear the passion in it when he talked about plants.

You straighten up to meet his stare. “Is that why I get the random terrified customer that comes in asking for it?”

The smile immediately falls from his face as he processes your words. “What?”

“I’m joking, Kyungsoo,” you tell him as you hold back a laugh. “Besides, aren’t there specialty shops for that?”

“Probably.” He shrugs his shoulders before a curious gaze takes over. “So, do you believe in things like that?”

“In evil spirits?” A small laugh escapes from you. “No, not really. Ghosts, demons, magic… I don’t believe in any of it, but if someone comes in here looking for sage to protect themselves, I’m definitely not going to stop them.”

Kyungsoo nods at your words, but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. Either lost in a world of magic and evil or just in a daze. You glance past him to make sure everything else in the greenhouse is going okay and notice another customer watching you.

Changmin. Someone who only recently started coming to the greenhouse but wasted no time in trying to get to know you.

“Do you need any help Changmin?” you ask, causing Kyungsoo to look over at him.

The two make eye contact for a moment, and you curiously take in the sight. Did they know each other? Because the vibes you’re getting aren’t exactly friendly.

“I do, actually.” Changmin finally says, ripping his gaze away from Kyungsoo to look at you.

“Okay. One second.” You tell him, focusing back on the man in front of you. “Did you need anything else, Kyungsoo?”

He eyes Changmin a little longer before turning back toward you. “I’m good. Thanks. I’ll see you around, though.”

You nod and watch him walk away before making your way over to Changmin. His brown eyes still watch Kyungsoo until he’s out of the store, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

“What’s up?” You ask in an attempt to get his attention.

“How long have you known him?” He asks, leveling you with a stare.

You jerk in surprise at the unexpected question. There’s no obligation to answer him, but you can’t deny you’re curious why someone you barely know would ask that.

“He’s been shopping here for a couple years. Why?”

Changmin slowly nods before looking back in the direction Kyungsoo had left in. You study his side profile, taking in the locked jaw and intense stare. They had to know each other, and not in a good way.

“Changmin?”

He studies you for a moment before saying, “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.”

Your mouth parts slightly as you try to take in his words. Who just says something like that, and why did he think he could say it to you?

A smile grows on his lips as he takes in your expression. “Just some friendly advice.”

“…Right.” You finally find your voice, though a weird feeling fills you. Something about this entire thing feels off, and you don’t want to be dragged into it.

“Well, thanks for the help.” He winks at you and heads toward the entrance.

A minute passes before you find your bearings again. That entire encounter was awkward, and what’s more, you never even helped Changmin, so you didn’t know what exactly he was thanking you for.

Pushing the last five minutes from your mind, you pick up a nearby watering can and start giving some of the drier plants a little bit of water. You follow the same monotonous routine as you normally do and sigh. You’re so bored… and not just here but in general.

Working at the greenhouse is fun, and it’s refreshing to be surrounded by nature and warmth every single day, but it isn’t enough. You crave excitement and adventure. You want to travel the world and experience all that life has to offer, and you know you won’t find that here in the greenhouse.

You want more.

As your night wraps up, you turn off the lights and begin to head out, turning to lock up the greenhouse before you go. It’s the same routine that you always have, but something about tonight feels different. Something in the air feels different.

Brushing off the odd feeling, you throw the greenhouse keys in your bag and begin the journey home. It’s nights like these that you’re grateful you only live a couple blocks away. You get to tune into your thoughts and let your mind wander in the peace and quiet of the night, but tonight, that odd feeling remains.

You glance over your shoulder to glimpse the empty streets. Vehicles parked along the road for the night and a few trees scattered along the sidewalk greet you, but that’s all. No other human being catches your attention; however, you still can’t shake the feeling growing inside of you. The feeling that you’re being followed.

Quickening your pace, you try to remain calm and clearheaded. The odds that you’re being followed aren’t very high, but the recent string of murders in the city has you feeling on edge anyway. You debate if you should continue going home or if you should go somewhere else, but there’s no public place between the greenhouse and your apartment, so you continue on your path.

It’s probably just paranoia, especially since it’s nearly all the city can talk about. The news, the papers, social media… it’s everywhere, and that’s why you assume the odd feelings are just in your head. You’re psyching yourself out… but that still doesn’t stop you from feeling a sense of relief the second you get into your apartment.

Locking the door immediately behind you, you take a deep breath before letting out a breathy laugh at your actions. They were warranted, but you still felt a little silly. You turn on the lights and move to drop your bag on the table near the door. Before you can take any further steps into the apartment, your phone rings and you phish it out of your pocket, barely glancing at the caller ID because you already know who it is.

“Hey, mom,” you greet her.

“Did you make it home okay?” The worry is clear in her voice, so you avoid any sassy responses and move to sit on your couch.

“Yep! Safe and sound.”

You’ve grown used to the nightly phone calls you’ve been getting from your parents over the past couple of weeks. Ever since the news broke the first couple of murder stories, your parents have been worried sick about you, even more than usual. You’ve been trying to keep them calm and not become frustrated by their actions because you understand. You’re their only child, and you live alone in a dangerous city, but sometimes you really want to forget about the horrors that exist on the other side of your apartment door.

“Good! Make sure your door is locked!”

“It is mom.”

You hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. “You know we just want you safe, sweetie.”

“I know, and I love you for it.”

“Love you too, baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You let out a soft laugh as you hang up the phone and drop it on the couch. Turning your head towards the window, you take in the city lights and listen to the soft sounds of the still bustling city that slip through the glass. Your mind can’t help but think about the odd feeling you had when you left work. The feeling that you were being followed. Was it paranoia as you suspected, or something more sinister?

The following days prove to be just as boring as usual, and after your spooky walk home a few days ago, you welcome it. For once in your life, you welcome the quiet, boring life you lead. The only difference you’ve noticed over the past few days is the more frequent visits of Kyungsoo and Changmin. It’s like every time you turn around, one of them is there. It’s almost eerie how they manage to do it.

Kyungsoo is a welcome distraction. He often talks about the plants you have in the greenhouse and similar ones he thinks you should talk your superiors into growing. He often makes comments about magical herbs or ones that’d be used in rituals, and you have to laugh. It’s funny to you how into magic he is, but you can tell he’s passionate about it, so you let him continue telling his stories.

Changmin, on the other hand, seems more concerned about Kyungsoo than you or the greenhouse. You often catch him watching Kyungsoo from a distance, and you know Kyungsoo can feel it because he has caught him several times himself. It’s odd how Changmin doesn’t even bother trying to hide it, and things take a really weird turn when Changmin approaches you about him directly.

‘Didn’t I warn you not to trust that guy?”

The small shovel you’re holding in your hand drops back into the pot as you stand up to greet Changmin. “Hello to you, too.”

His eyebrow quirks up as you ignore his previous sentence. “Hi. Did you not hear what I just said to you?”

“I heard you just fine. What I’m not hearing is an explanation.” He gives you a confused look, so you elaborate. “This is the second time you’ve told me not to trust Kyungsoo, but you’ve yet to give me a reason. Kyungsoo has been nothing but nice to me while you, on the other hand, keep sending him death glares across the greenhouse and telling me not to trust him.”

He studies your expression for a moment before nodding. “I just thought I’d help you out. You’re a nice girl. Maybe a little too nice. Didn’t your parents ever teach you that looks can be deceiving?”

Confusion causes your brows to furrow as you try to figure out how on earth you should even respond to that. This man that you barely knew, not only is telling you not to trust someone but is calling you naïve directly to your face. Who does stuff like this?

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs his shoulders, “maybe watch who you befriend.”

You meet his stare for a moment before saying, “Yeah… I’ll do that.”

For the rest of your shift, all you can think about is how relieved you are that Changmin is gone. The man is starting to creep you out and why he felt like he could tell you who you could and couldn’t trust really bugged you. The two of you are friendly but not friends. You barely know him, so why does he think he can come up to you and say things like that?

“Don’t forget to turn out the lights!” Your coworker reminds you as she breezes past towards the door.

“I got it, don’t worry. See you tomorrow!”

She throws you a smile as she exits the greenhouse, and you try to focus on the last-minute things you need to do, but your mind is elsewhere. Sighing, you toss your work gloves into a bin by the counter and move to grab your purse. You’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.

As you walk out of the greenhouse and turn to lock up, you get an eerie sense of déjà vu. You lift your head up and look at the area around you. The sight that greets you causes a bad feeling to work its way up your spine.

People are scattered all over the place. On the sidewalk on each side of the greenhouse and across the street. They stay half-hidden in the shadows. Not enough to show their faces, but enough that you can tell they’re there.

You take a deep breath and try to keep calm while you watch the shadows. There had to be 10 to 15 people around you, and that’s enough to set off your alarm bells because you’d usually only see maybe four people maximum when you closed.

The way they all stand still as they watch you causes your heart rate to spike. You stare at the wooden door in front of you and debate on running back into the greenhouse since the key is still in the lock, but you know that’s not going to stop them from whatever it is they plan on doing. Something tells you they’re here for you and that they won’t stop until they get what they want. You don’t know why, but your body is screaming it at you.

You needed to find a place with people, or at least, a busy street, and there wasn’t any toward your apartment, so you pull the key out of the lock and head in the opposite direction. Your steps are slow as you come close to one of the people leaning against the building next to you. The girl doesn’t move as you pass her, and though you try to find her eyes, it’s like she leans back deeper into the shadows, making it even harder to see her.

Once you pass her, you pick up your pace and almost swear when you hear footsteps behind you. You knew this was going to happen. Now, you just have to be quicker than the rest of them.

Quickening your pace to a jog, you force yourself not to look behind you. Every time the person looks behind themselves in a movie, they fall and bust their ass. That would not be you. However, something else tries to force its way inside your head…

What if these people had something to do with those murders?

You force yourself into a jog, noting the wind has noticeably picked up. Good. Maybe they’ll get tired of going against the wind to follow you. You smile at the thought until you feel the wind push against you even harder.

You stumble a little at the force of it but try to keep going. You ignore the harsh whip of it against your face, but it stings enough that you question where the heck this wind even came from. Was it even supposed to storm today? You could’ve sworn the forecast said sun all day when you woke up.

An even harder gust of wind slams against you, and you find it nearly impossible to move your body. Chancing a glance behind you, you see the people that are following you having an even tougher time. It’s like they’re somehow getting even more wind than you are.

What the hell is going on? You’ve never experienced wind like this. It’s almost… unnatural.

Lightning arcs across the sky, being immediately followed by thunder, and all you can think is “great, a freak storm, that’s exactly what you need right now”. You look up at the sky and feel your face scrunch in confusion. There aren’t any visible clouds, so you’re not entirely sure where this storm is coming from.

More bolts of lightning streak across the sky, lighting up the road around you until suddenly one of the bolts hits a streetlight behind you. The thunder that accompanies the bolt is monstrous, startling you into turning around and searching for damage.

Smoke comes off the light that had just been struck, but before you can process it, another bolt hits the light across from it, sending two of your followers stumbling. You jump back as more bolts begin hitting the road, and that’s when you realize the lightning isn’t following any basic laws of science. Tall buildings, other streetlights, plenty of metal objects surround you, and instead, the lightning hits the ground, bypassing everything. Even odder, the bolts only hit the ground around the people behind you, none of them near you.

Momentarily stunned by the odd storm, you realize this is the perfect distraction to get away. You turn back around and begin to fight against the wind to move. At first, it feels like you’re cemented to the ground, but ever so slightly, it becomes easier to move. You push harder, fearing that if it’s easier for you, it’ll be easier for your followers to move as well.

Wetness suddenly hits your face, distracting you and causing you to look back up at the sky. Rain too? Of course, it makes sense, but there weren’t even any clouds thirty seconds ago. The sky opens up moments later, dropping so much rain on you that you’re drenched instantly. It pelts against you almost painfully, like thousands of needles being jabbed in your skin, and you cry out before you can stop yourself.

Turning your head towards the buildings alongside you, you search for a place to hide out. You can’t stay in this rain any longer, and when you glance behind you, you notice most of the creepy people fleeing the storm, making your sense of urgency dwindle. What you need to do now is find shelter, then as soon as the storm lets up, you can go get help.

Taking a step towards the buildings on your side, you notice a shape approaching you and you immediately tense up. The creepy people didn’t leave like you thought. They just went around to trap you instead. You quickly back away as the figure moves closer to you and notice it’s not as hard to move as it was. The wind is starting to let up as is the rain, allowing you to see the person approaching you.

You blink a few times as you take in his sudden appearance.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Come with me,” he urgently tells you, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You look between his hand and his face as you try to push past the startling confusion you’re feeling. What the hell is he suddenly doing here, and why does he want you to go with him?

“Please! We don’t have a lot of time!”

The urgency in his voice has you looking over your shoulder. You didn’t have a lot of time? Is he talking about those people? How would he know about anything that’s going on?

“Where?” You turn back to him and shout to be heard over the rain.

“Please, just trust me!” He yells, looking behind you.

You send one more peek over your shoulder before glancing down at his hand. Changmin’s words telling you not to trust Kyungsoo work their way into your mind, but you squash them. You barely know Changmin, and a part of you feels like you can trust Kyungsoo. He, at least, feels safer than being out on these streets alone at night.

Taking a deep breath, you place your hand in his and allow him to pull you back in the direction he came from. The two of you run toward the end of the block, and then he pulls you around the corner, where you see a black car already running and waiting for you.

He opens the backdoor, and without question, you jump in. You look up as you find your seat and come face to face with another man. Your movements halt, but Kyungsoo jumps in after you, blocking your only exit. You look up to the front of the car and see two more unfamiliar men in the driver and passenger seats.

Oh. You fucked up. There’s no possible way jumping in an unfamiliar vehicle with three strangers and someone you barely know isn’t a fuck up.

“What the hell, Kyungsoo?” You turn and hiss at him.

“Calm down. Everything’s going to be okay.” He tells you as he places his hand on your arm.

You immediately move away from him, not wanting him to touch you. “Like hell it is!”

Tearing your gaze from Kyungsoo, you look at the other men in the car, and that’s when it hits you. Not a single one of them is paying any attention to you. They’re all concentrating on something behind you, outside of the vehicle. You take a moment to study them as they focus on whatever it is they’re doing.

Next to you is a thin man with brushed-back hair. You see his eyes focusing on the trees as they almost violently sway, and you assume he’s as curious about the wind as you. In the driver seat is a shorter, muscular man. He stares out at the rain like he’s almost in a daze, and an unnerving feeling begins to prod at your skin. Lastly, in the passenger seat is another man, but his face is turned away from you. All you can tell is that he’s looking up at the sky like it holds all the answers.

Slowly, you turn to face Kyungsoo, who’s looking out the back of the car in the direction you came from. He must feel your eyes on him because he quickly turns to face you. You try to find your voice to speak, but the most that comes out is a whisper.

“What the fuck is happening?”

Before he can answer you, you feel movement from your side, and you immediately snap your head in that direction. You meet the cautious stare of the man next to you, the one who was watching the trees, and blink a few times before you realize how quiet it has gotten.

Reluctantly, you pull your gaze away from the man and look out the window, noticing the storm had disappeared as quickly as it came. The night is now silent and eerie. The trees no longer sway, the rain no longer drops, and the lightning is long gone. You sit frozen as you try to figure out how any of this is logically possible until you realize that it’s not just the man next to you that is focused on you. The two men in the front are as well.

You turn to look at Kyungsoo, the only one you know. “You have about five seconds to tell me what the hell is going on.”

He searches your face a moment before nodding. “You’re in danger.”

You quickly open your mouth to argue with how absurd that sounds, but he holds his hand up to quiet you.

“Those people are after you, and they’re not going to stop until you’re dead.”

Tagging: @haveanotherkpopblog @iibonniee @making-me-blush @monbabyzshoebill @jay-scenarios @svmmi-viv @quaaacky @lunaselenamoon98 @moonlightcandy00 @kpop---scenarios @baekhyunsdangerouswoman @bellapinkrose @sanaxking