#rural villages wHO DID THIS TO YOU

[ent-is-undecisive]

These villages are fucked up, man

[featherymainffins]

Why you all got ok mothers leave some for the rest of us

[canichangemyblogname]

Algerian boxer Imane Khelif is a cisgender woman, you absolute freaks. The International Boxing Association never did a karyotype test on her; they only tested her testosterone levels. She was disqualified from competing due to antiquated, misogynistic and patriarchal regulations that require women to present according a Platonic ideal (a perfect form) of Womanhood. She is a cis woman; she did not undergo “male puberty,” you genitalia-obsessed weirdos.

She grew up in a rural Algerian village and overcame numerous gender barriers to get where she is. Her father forbade her from boxing because he didn’t approve of girls playing the sport, and he actively prevented her from practicing. She would be actively prevented from boxing again in 2023 because a panel of men deemed her not “woman” enough because of arbitrary rules about how much testosterone a “true lady” should produce.

Imane Khelif’s life story is one of overcoming adversity put in place by the arbitrary rules the patriarchy imposes upon women to keep men as men and women down.

Also, it is literally illegal to be trans in Algeria. Algeria does not allow people to change their sex on official documents or undergo medical or hormonal treatment to transition. Y’all are freaks who hate queer people and women. Leave Imane Khelif alone. Leave trans women alone. Leave women alone, period.

[hedgehog-moss]

I offered to give the florist a hand with her deliveries again, like I did on Mother's Day, and doing it on All Saints' Day was a different and quieter experience; I liked it. The florist's husband and I went around putting flowers on graves in various local graveyards for people who don't live nearby and can't visit the graves themselves; sometimes we had a graveyard map and the right grave was marked with a little X, so there was an interesting treasure hunt aspect to it. Sometimes there was no map, only indications given by the customer. The customer is not very good at giving indications. When you're looking for the grave of someone named Bernard and your post-it note says it's the first grave on the left when you enter, but this grave says 'To my beloved grandmother', you just have to trust your instinct telling you that Bernard is elsewhere.

Another person indicated that there was a statue of a rooster near their relative's grave, but my earnest rooster search turned up nothing. (Me: "Is it possible that they mistook a real rooster for a statue?" Florist's husband: "Everything is possible.") Another level of difficulty was a village graveyard where almost everyone had the same last name, and there were several Jeannes. (Florist's husband: "Are there any other indications?" Me: "Yes. The note says the tombstone is made of grey stone." "(deep sigh)" Me: "These Jeannes already have some flowers—should I give the flowers to the Jeanne who doesn't have any?" "That's not how it works.") (😔)

But all in all delivering flowers in rural graveyards on behalf of faraway relatives of the deceased is a picturesque and peaceful activity, and you can discover interesting old-timey names. I was telling a friend earlier that doing this full-time was possibly my dream job: you get to be alone but feel close to humanity; it's calm and gives you time to think, and it's the right amount of challenging (to find Bernard). Too bad it's only really needed on All Saints' Day. I don't like driving but I could picture myself walking around with my donkey carrying baskets of flowers, going from village to village, being greeted like an old friend by graveyard cats. Crossing villages by foot involves a daunting amount of small talk—so I would travel & work at night. On nights when there are no flowers to deliver I would be content to skulk around my graveyards, waiting to be summoned. (My friend, clarifying: "Your dream job is 'nice ghoul.'")

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König

Probably can't write a full series for this but for now HEADCANNONS

He initially moved to a residential/suburban area because of his need for privacy. He couldn't stand being in barracks provided because it's too close for comfort and there's just too many people and not enough room

He grew up in a rural village which he would really, greatly prefer but his job doesn't allow him to have that amount of space and no neighbors. The upkeep would be too much

While he doesn't have the full amount of space he'd like, it's enough to keep him busy when he's not deployed and grant him the piece of mind he needs

When he's home and in his 'residential/domestic' mode, he's not wearing the mask. That's a quick way to signal him out and lets be real, it sets off red flags. He'd rather not have the police called on what looks like a very suspicious man, thanks.

Not wearing the mask is also a good way for him to come off of 'work' mode, where he can just be himself, no covering that up.

Plus it's for safety. He knows he's taking a risk by living off of base and he's a man with many enemies. Wearing something trademarked to him in an unprepared environment is a dumb idea and is a great way to end up six feet under

His front yard is pretty minimal but he has a lovely garden in the back. Half the reason he settled on the house that he did was because of the mature trees in the backyard that reminded him of home

When you moved in, König - as much as he didn't want to, made the move to introduce himself. The main motivator wasn't out of politeness but rather necessity. Since he's away for so long, he gives out his personal number and email just in case something happens with the house

He's genuinely surprised when you react positively and even ask if there's anything he'd like you to do when he's away (like collecting his mail, watering any plants)

He's so stumped by that, not having expected such hospitality, that when you ask for his name as you enter in his contact info, his brain short circuits. He tells you it's Kevin, because it's the first K name he could think of that wasn't distinctly Germanic.

Also he doesn't want to bring anyone into his work life. He moved out into the suburbs for a reason. König is who he is on field, that's his callsign. And, once again - safety reasons. If he went around, telling people who he was, he's asking to get another target painted on his back

Though you two initially don't really talk much, you still wave when you see him or wish him a good morning. Even if he's blunt and usually brusque, you never mind it and always try to make polite conversation while respecting his boundaries and need for space

Seeing each other in the mornings becomes routine. You're up for work while he's up tending to his garden (it's better to water early morning, he insists)

He's slow to warm up but when he finally does, he's surprisingly talkative

He really opened up to you because you showed express interest in his garden and flowers alike. You always listened to his advice or would ask specific questions to get him talking and when it came to explaining things, he could talk and talk and talk

The moment he was won over though was when you asked if he'd like help weeding his garden. Taking care of it was therapeutic to him (as tedious as it might be) and wanting to actually come over and spend time with him, even if it was a "chore" made him feel something that day

Being allowed into his yard, his botanical sanctuary, is as great of an award as you can get

He finds it significantly easier to talk when his hands are busy and when there can always be things to talk about (mainly his plants, he's so proud)

You learn of his plants, the fact that he's a private contractor (he conveniently leaves out the military part), and he'll start to actually talk about himself instead of avoiding questions for once

If it weren't from exertion reddening his face already, he's sure he would've turned as red as his tomatoes when you inquired about the off handed comment about his miniatures collection

No one had ever asked him about them - or actually taken them seriously. He's used to people making fun of such hobbies

But not you, you embraced him

Seeing your face light up with amazement and hearing your specific comments about the details he made in replicas of things such as his hometown and some of the fairytale stories he liked as a kid officially had his heart feeling the warm, fuzzy feelings that he usually ignored

The next morning, he was already planting your favorite flowers in his front yard 🪻

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

[fingertipsmp3]

I’ve got a pokemon that’s been in a gym for over three weeks and one of the three people defending the gym with me has fed it so many berries that it’s at 3/4 health again. Why are you prolonging my suffering???

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 11.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries, mentions of rape and abuse, mentions of breeding, mentions of death

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Things are about to take a turn, can you guess what's next?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

„Well... that sure was... something.“, Mitsuki says while staring after y/n.

„Tsk, I've told you she's got fire.“, Katsuki tells her smugly.

Part of him understands y/n's anger. Hell, he's angry with his mother too. He can't imagine what it must be like for y/n when people talk over your head. Katsuki knows that y/n isn't stupid. He's sure she figured out that this argument was about her. It's not like his mother tries to hide her disgust about y/n.

Suddenly, the entrance to the tent shifts and Katsuki half-expects y/n to enter the tent again. However, it's Kirishima who pokes his head into the tent. The red-haired man seems to shrink a bit when he spots Mitsuki.

„Uhm, hey chief, hate to interrupt but our scouts have returned from the kingdom. You might want to hear what they have to report.“, Kirishima informs Katsuki.

Katsuki gives him a firm nod and follows him outside. His mother is close behind him. Together they walk to the war tent. It's where the maps are and where the tribe plans its raids and strategic maneuvers. On their way there, they come face to face with multiple injured men. They're taken to the healers. Many of them are unconscious or clutching very bloody wounds.

„What happened?“, Katsuki wants to know but Kirishima only shrugs.

„Don't know any specifics only that the mission must've gone wrong.“, the man tells his leader. Katsuki scoffs. While his men often got injured due to their reckless fighting style, the sight is worrying.

Upon entering the tent, the men inside stiffen and give Katsuki and Mitsuki a sign of respect. Nobody dares to say a word.

„So?“, Katsuki barks, „What happened? Why are my men bleeding to death out there?“

A man in dirty armor stands up. He's not looking too good, actually. Katsuki guesses he's been with the scouts.

„We've been scouting out an area East of the mountains. It was a bit more inland, deeper into Todoroki's territory than usual. It's a rural area far off from any havens or big rivers so we didn't expect to run into any trouble. We were looking for small settlements that we could attack in the next few months.“, the man explained.

„And let me guess, you did run into trouble?“, Katsuki follows up and the man nods.

„Yes, we've just scouted out the area and landed to discuss which settlements would be the best to attack during our next flight when we were ambushed by Todoroki's soldiers. In all honesty, we didn't see them coming. They were hidden from the sight above and even upon landing, our dragons weren't alarmed.“, the man continues.

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows. Their dragons usually can smell prey from miles away. It's strange that none of them sensed the enemy. Moreover, it's quite the same as when y/n and him were ambushed by those bandits. Is this a coincidence? Or is there a connection between the two incidents?

„And then what? Don't tell me our mighty dragon warriors lost to a few mere human soldiers?“, his mother interrupts his trail of thoughts. The scout suddenly looks really pale.

„Well, there were just too many of them. We have no idea where they suddenly came from. We tried to fight them, but it got clear pretty quickly that they overpowered us in numbers. That's why we retreated.“, the man explains in a squeaky voice.

„Retreated? Since when do we retreat? We fight till death! We are warriors!“, his mother's voice booms to through the tent. All men looked at their feet not daring to meet their former chief's eyes.

„We've lost enough people the last few years. We can't afford to lose further tribe members by being reckless. You made the right call.���, Katsuki tells the men and indirectly puts his mother into her place. His mother scoffs and mutters something about cowards under her breath.

„So, how did the king know we'd send scouts to this place? Do we have a traitor among us?“, Kirishima changes the topic.

„The question is did he know or is he simply strengthening his forces?“, another man chirps in.

Katsuki isn't sure about that. They already noticed that there is a stronger military presence throughout the kingdom. He's sure that his tribe's attacks play a significant role in that. In the past few years they've raided more paces than they usually would. They've grown bolder, more desperate, and moved further inward. It might be that the king mistakes their raids for attempts to see how far they can get, to see if they can weaken the kingdom and overtake parts of their territory. Maybe the king doesn't see that these riots are due to the weakened state of the tribe, to ensure their survival.

Or maybe the king senses an opportunity to end the Dragonblood tribe once and for all. Strategically speaking, it wouldn't be a bad idea. The tribe lost strength and if there would be a fitting time to get rid of them once and for all, it would be now. Katsuki did his best to keep the plague a secret and make the tribe look strong on the outside. However, somehow some information must slipped through the cracks. It might be due to outside contacts like Deku or Uraraka. Katsuki refuses to believe there might be a traitor among them. The last thing they need is a riot.

Katsuki's quiet while his men start yelling and fighting in front of him. His mother nudges him. Waking out of his trance, he notices how his men are almost about to start a fistfight.

„Silence!“, he yells and his men freeze before letting go of each other and straightening their posture. 

„How many did we lose?“, Katsuki asks calmly.

„About 13 and counting. We don't know how many make it through the night.“, the scout tells him.

An eery silence befalls the tent. It's too many lives lost. Not even four children have been born this year to replace them. Plus, these children were born weakly and maybe won't live until adulthood. If this rate continues, the tribe will be gone before the end of the next decade.

„We need to bring in more women.“, Denki says into the silence. 

„Why that? These women only give us weak children! If any at that!“, another warrior comments. Some murmur in agreement. Kirishima looks conflicted and is very careful when he starts speaking.

„Maybe we should consider hiring men from other tribes. If they and their families settle with us, it will improve our situation from a strategic point of view.“, Krishima carefully proposes.

Immediately, men start speaking over each other.

„Bring in outsiders? No way, we can't trust them!“

„These outsiders can't compete with our strength!“

„They will piss themselves just at the sight of our dragons.“

„Silence!“, Katsuki yells once again. The volume comes down again and everybody looks at their leader expectantly.

„We're of dragon blood.“, Katsuki declares, „It's already humiliating that we have to mix our blood with those of commoners. At least that offspring will have some of our ancestors' strength in them.“

„Then what do we do?“, another man asks. Katsuki staightens his posture and lets his eyes wander through the tent.

„We lay low for a while. Scouts will fly in smaller groups. We stay on the outskirts of the Todoroki kingdom. Also, we should scout other kingdoms as well, such as the Yaoyorozu kingdom.“, he declares.

„What about raids?“, a man asks.

„We only hold small raids. Our focus will be bringing in as many females as we can. Leave gold and treasures behind. We only focus on the resources we really need.“, he tells them.

A murmur goes through his men. They don't like holding back. Katsuki understands them. There's no feeling more empowering than letting fire rain on an enemy and taking their treasures. But for now, they will have to focus on more important things.

„Kirishima, send a small scouting party to the Yaoyorozu kingdom. And get me that damn Deku here, goddamnit!“, he orders and pushes himself off the table he was leaning on.

„Now, get the hell out of here!“, he yells at his men. His men rumble and reluctantly leave the tent. Kirishima gives him a worried glance before leaving his friend and his mother alone. When they're alone, Katsuki turns to his mother.

„Do you understand now, Mother? Why I can't wait until one of our own is of age?“, he tells her.

Mitsuki stays silent in response.

~*~*~*~

Y/n's a shadow. She slips in between the tents trying to stay out of sight. Somehow it feels forbidden to seek out another woman. Luckily for her, the warriors of this tribe seem to hold a conference. It makes it easier for her to find her way back to Nadia and it also means that Nadia's husband won't be looming over her and they might just have a minute to talk.

When y/n found her way to Nadia's tent, she stands in front of it inconclusively. She's not sure how to make herself noticeable. It's not like they have a doorbell. Y/n takes a deep breath and decides to carefully enter the place. She pushes the fabric at the entrance away and pokes her head into the tent.

„Nadia?“, she softly calls out to the other woman when she can't see the other woman in the darkness of the tent.

Suddenly, there's rustling and the shuffling of feet. Nadia's face appears in front of y/n and she immediately grabs y/n's arm pulling her into the tent.

„What are you doing? Are you crazy? You can't just walk around in the middle of the day!“, Nadia whispers. Y/n gives her a bewildered look.

„What do you mean? Are you forbidden to go outside?“, she asks the pale woman.

„Aren't you?“, Nadia asks back carefully. 

Y/n thinks about this for a moment. Actually, she's not sure. It's not like she could understand Katsuki even if he told her about a rule like that. Then again Katsuki didn't seem too pissed when he saw her walking around earlier. He didn't even chase after her when she left his tent. Y/n shrugs.

„I don't know.“, she answers the other woman truthfully.

Nadia shakes her head in disbelief.

„You need to be more careful.“, Nadia tells y/n. Y/n furrows her brows.

„Why? What are you afraid of? Does your husband really forbid you to go outside?“, y/n rambles desperate to get some information out of Nadia.

Nadia looks into y/n's eyes for a few seconds silently before stating: „You really don't know anything, do you?“

It sounds accusing as if it's somehow y/n's fault that nobody tells her anything. At least not in a language she doesn't understand. Also, she doesn't think that Katsuki is the explaining type of guy.

„No.“, she tells Nadia calmly, „That's why I'm here. I don't understand what is happening. Please tell me everything you know.“

Nadia sighs deeply and then waves for y/n to sit down at a chair. She makes some tea before joining y/n. The women stay silent for another moment. Y/n is itching to pressure Nadia further. Before y/n can open her mouth, however, Nadia carefully asks:

„Do you know why they've brought you here?“

Y/n looks into her tea cup. It's a difficult question. She assumes that Katsuki brought her here because he liked her. A dreadful feeling starts to form in her stomach. What if that's not all? What if Katsuki has further plans for her?

Nadia takes y/n's silence as the answer.

„They brought you here for breeding.“, Nadia tells her without any emotions in her voice.

„E-excuse me?“, y/n asks taken aback. It's a word she has heard farmers use for cattle but never in the context of human beings.

„Have you seen any women around here? Probably not. It's because they're all dead. They bring us here so that we bear their children.“, Nadia explains.

Y/n stares at the woman. She puts down her tea cup. That... can't be right. No, Katsuki wouldn't do that. Of course, there was some tension between them and she's sure that if she'd let him, Katsuki would fuck the living daylight out of her but... not because of that. Because of... what actually? Love? Y/n almost has to laugh at that ridiculous thought. They've known each other for a couple of days. She's sure Katsuki is fond of her, but it's not love. Yet, a hopeful little voice says in the back of her head. Y/n shakes her head to get the thought out of her head.

„That's ridiculous.“, she tells Nadia. The woman leans back in her seat.

„A normal person might think like that. But these aren't normal people. They're monsters, barbarians who don't care about anything but themselves.“, Nadia answers. She sounds bitter.

„I'm sure Katsuki doesn't think that way“, y/n thinks out loud. Nadia's head whips upward.

„Katsuki? As in Katsuki Bakugou? Don't tell me you'll be married off to him!“, Nadia says in horror.

„I'm not sure about the marrying off part...“, y/n trails off.

„Did he put you into fancy clothes and paint and showed you off?“, Nadia asks. Y/n nods silently.

„Then he takes you. For himself or for one of his men, I don't know. Not that it would matter anyway. They're all the same.“, Nadia states.

Y/n crooks her head.

„Tell me Nadia, what did these people do to you that you think so lowly of them? So far, Katsuki wasn't cruel to me.“, y/n asks carefully. Nadia swallows hard.

„They attacked our village. When they've slaughtered most of the men, they rounded the women up. Some of us were chosen and taken to their camp. The others... I don't know raped or killed or both.“, Nadia says in a shakey voice. Clearly, the memory is hard for her.

„You've been taken here against your will?“, y/n asks even though she should be able to guess the answer.

„You weren't?“, Nadia asks again in disbelief. Y/n shrinks under her gaze. She feels as if she should feel ashamed for going with Katsuki.

„I didn't have much of a choice.“, she decides to reply. Nadia starts looking at her hands.

„Neither did we.“, she continues, „We've been brought back here. The men who chose us presented us to the chief who... I don't know, gave them his blessing or something like that. And then...“

Nadia doesn't finish the sentence. It sounds as if she's choking. Y/n doesn't see any tears glimmering in the dusk of the tent.

„Then what?“, y/n whispers breathlessly. She wants to know, even if it's horrible

„Then, the man who chose me took me back here. Violated and abused me right there on this bed.“, Nadia whispers back and points to the bed on the other side of the tent.

„Ever since then, I'm forced to live here as his wife or something. He continues to hurt me, to... He's not a kind man. I'm scared of him. Of him, of this place, of everything.“, Nadia whispers. 

Now, y/n sees the shimmer of tears on the other woman's face. She's at a loss for words. What can you say to a woman who is a victim to such terrible crimes? Y/n just bows her head and stares onto her own hands.

She's been blind. Blinded by Katsuki. By his strength that saved her. By the security his presence promises. She's heard the stories of the Dragonblood tribe. Was she really stupid enough to believe that they were all lies? She's seen what Katsuki can do to a few grown-ass men. Murder, abduction, and rape are all she connected to this tribe for years. After a few days with Katsuki and y/n lost all common sense. Mostly, she feels ashamed for not questioning this whole thing further. What kind of person just rides off with a strange man and his firebreathing beast? A stupid one.

„I'm really sorry.“, y/n whispers and takes Nadia's hand. Nadia grips her hand tight.

„Don't be. It's better you're prepared for what happens next.“, Nadia tells her.

Y/n doesn't have the courage to tell her that Katsuki isn't like that. Then again, could she say these words with confidence? She starts to realize that she doesn't know Katsuki at all. Maybe he is that kind of person. He seems to allow his men to commit these acts. So he either approves or doesn't care. Either way, it's bad.

„How many others are there? Women they've brought in?“, y/n asks Nadia. Nadia shrugs.

„I barely leave this tent. I'm too afraid and it's too cold out there anyway. The others probably feel the same, so there is no real way of knowing.“, Nadia tells her.

„You can't just rott here!“, y/n exclaims, „We should contact the other women. It's best if we stick together.“

Nadia looks up at her with tired eyes. Her posture is slumped. Y/n thinks that she looks a hundred years old right now even though she's not much older than y/n herself.

„Y/n...“, Nadia starts, „I can't. I'm too afraid and too tired. You don't know what it's like to do this day in and day out. Never knowing in what kind of mood he comes home.“

Nadia looks exhausted. As if she's already given up on everything and anything.

„Nadia, I'm sure we can do something!“, y/n tries to motivate her. 

The pale woman doesn't answer her. She just stares into her tea cup. Everything about her looks dull, y/n thinks.

Suddenly, there's clamoring outside. Voices of men and clashing of metal can be heard. Nadia bolts up.

„You need to go. You can't be here when he comes back!“, Nadia panics and grips y/n's arm. She pulls y/n onto her feet and starts pushing her out of the tent.

„Wait, there's still so much...!“, y/n starts and is interrupted by a sharp hiss by Nadia.

„You need to leave. Now. Or we're both not safe. Don't come looking me for a while. It's too dangerous. I'll find you soon“, Nadia spits out and pushes y/n completely out of the tent.

Y/n stares at the fabric in front of her. The last part sounded like a lie. She's sure Nadia won't try to find her and start something. She's too much in survival mode.

~*~*~*~

It's already dusk when y/n is pushed out of Nadia's tent. Men light torches next to their tents and along the paths around the settlement. Keeping Nadia's words in mind, she tries to avoid the men. Most of them, however, don't pay attention to her or only give her curious looks. No one yells at her or tries to drag her back to Katsuki's tent. It makes her wonder how seriously Nadia's explanations should be taken.

Y/n wanders aimlessly around until the sun has set completely and only the torches illuminate the settlement. Men retreat to their tents and the smell of food lingers in the air. Just then, y/n notices how hungry she is. She only had a small breakfast before the presentation. She was too nervous to get much down. Nevertheless, she doesn't want to return to Katsuki. At least not yet.

Her head is pulsing with information she can't really process. She hoped that visiting Nadia could help her navigate this place somehow, to better understand Katsuki and the others. However, Nadia confused her more than it helped. Her own perception of Katsuki and the tribe is so different than Nadia's. 

Y/n considers trying to find other women. There must be others that speak her language. Nadia said that multiple women from her village were taken. But since most men returned to their homes, y/n doesn't dare to just open a random tent and peek into it. She promises herself to look into it tomorrow.

When her hands and feet grow too cold, y/n decides she must go inside soon. Somehow she's not ready to find Katsuki yet. Sleeping a night separate from him would be best. Close proximity to Katsuki makes her mind and emotions unpredictable. She needs to clear her head and find a focus.

Unfortunately, she doesn't know any place to go. She considers looking for the tall red-haired man but then again it's likely he settled down for the night as well. And there's no way of telling what his tent is. 

So, the only place she does know is the great red's den. Y/n shudders at the thought of having to cross paths with all the other dragons in order to get there. Y/n figures that if they didn't attack her earlier, they probably won't attack her now. She's probably just a fly to them.

The path to the dragons' living space is not as lit as the rest of the settlement. Y/n steals one of the last torches at the outskirts of the settlement. The path is uneven and y/n stumbles over her feet a couple of times. The darkness doesn't bother her. Her people often camped in forests or mountainsides. She's used to hearing strange noises at night or walking in the darkness of the night in order to pee. When she's at the gorge's entrance, she halts for a moment. In contrast to earlier, the place lies in absolute silence. Maybe all the dragons are asleep?, she thinks before taking a deep breath and entering the dragon-occupied territory. 

Luckily, she remembers the path to the great red's den well so she walks at a fast but quiet pace. She keeps her eyes low, focused on the path. It's best not to make any eye contact with a dragon. Especially not one of the scary black ones. Her eyes flicker up when she's close to the den. Y/n lets out a shaky breath in relief. She made it!

Suddenly, a hot stenchy breath hits her shoulders and face. Y/n freezes in her step. Don't look, don't look, she tells herself. Another hot steam hits her face. It's hotter than before and closer. The dragon must be right beside her. How did she not notice a giant lizard crawling up on her. 

Y/n hears the giant creature shuffle closer. Go away, go away, she prays in her mind. A huge, scaley snout shoves her shoulder. The pressure pushes her over and y/n lets out a loud yelp before dropping to the side and letting go of her torch. Instinctively, she tries to shuffle away from the creature that now completely comes into view. It's a green one. Y/n is sure that the beast must have a bilious green shade in broad daylight. A color as poisonous and deathly as the breath y/n is forced to smell. 

The dragon is smaller than the black ones, maybe even than the blue ones. In contrast to those and the great red, it has no horns at the side of its head but a row of sharp spikes from the middle of its head all the way over its spine to its tail that is crowned with two longer, crescent-shaped spikes. Cunning red eyes watch y/n's every move. If y/n wasn't panicking, she probably would've thought that they looked similar to Katsuki's eyes. The pupils of the dragon are formed into fine slits and y/n is sure it is focusing on its prey right now. The prey being her of course. 

The creature snarls at y/n and snaps at her. It's enough to make y/n yell out in fear. However, it's clear that the dragon did not intend to truly catch her in between those sharp teeth of its mouth. It's playing with me, y/n thinks. But not in the cute way that the small ones did earlier. More like a cat playing with a mouse. Making it dance and bleed before snapping it in two. It's cruel and befitting for a dragon, y/n thinks. 

It kind of makes her angry, too. Clearly, this is an intelligent creature. It makes her sick to the stomach thinking about that this is how she's supposed to die. I can't fight it, y/n figures. And I shouldn't provoke it either. My only chance is to make a break for the red one's den. 

Y/n tries not to advert her gaze. If she looks into the direction of the den now, it'd be a dead giveaway. She tries to collect herself, to even her breathing. She closes her eyes for a second and tries to set her intention. When she opens her eyes again, she's met with the burning red ones of the dragon. She gives it a determined stare. I'm not going to back down, I'm not going to die, she recites in her mind over and over again as she slowly stands up keeping her posture bowed and small. She takes one deep breath before starting a sprint in the den's direction.

She can hear the yelping sound of surprise behind her and the massive stomps of the beast following her. Suddenly, electricity lies in the air. For a moment the air seemed to become cooler. Y/N's heart starts racing. She's felt this before. Right before the great red burned that man into ashes. That's it, y/n thinks while quickly sliding down in a sad attempt to dodge the fire.

However, the flames don't reach her because suddenly the great red is standing right in front of her spewing its own fire. Y/n turns back and sees the fire of the green one meet the red one's in a firestorm. Seeing it side by side, y/n thinks that the green dragon's fire has a hint of blue in it in contrast to the red one's fire which is just a glowing red and orange. The green one cannot keep up with the red one's firepower and retreats. The red one throws an eardrum-busting roar after it. Y/n's hands race up to her ears protecting herself from the sound.

Small fires still smolder on the ground when the red dragon resumes its fighting stance. It turns to y/n and she's sure the look the great red gives her is angry. She's so sure about that since Katsuki has the same wild, untamed look in his eyes when he's angry. The red one snarls at her and retreats into its den. Y/n doesn't wait a single second to follow it inside.

„I'm really sorry for just showing up here, you know“, she rambles, „I don't want to go back to Katsuki and I didn't know where else to go. You see the situation is really complicated and...“

Y/n stops her spewing of words mid-sentence. What even is she doing here? Talking to a dragon? Y/n drops her arms to her sides. Suddenly, she feels exhausted and desperate and just... done. This day has been so frustrating. Y/n stares intensely at the ground.

What am I even doing here?, she thinks. Like literally, what am I doing? Following a total stranger who has a terrifying reputation back to his tribe of brutes and warriors? Walking straight into dragon territory? It's like all my logical thinking has gone out of the window since the moment I met Katsuki.

Y/n feels hot tears pour out of her eyes and down her cheeks. 

This is so stupid. I'm so stupid.

Maybe it's wrong to blame Katsuki for this. Maybe her making bad decisions started when the world started to fall apart. When the sickness took first her mother and then her father. When her brother left. Why didn't she follow him? Maybe she couldn't have joined the military but she would've made a fine nurse. Why on earth did she think she was better off alone?

Her tears hit the ground. She tries not to let out any sobs. Somehow showing weakness in front of the dragon is humiliating. Nonetheless, she can't help but cower to the ground. She remembers the first day with Katsuki. When she was all alone in the woods and the weight of everything that had happened started to crush her down. She feels the same right now. Only like ten times worse. At least back then she could've had the chance to return to the kingdom, find her brother, do something.

Right now, she's stuck. Her actions are so very limited. She can't tell these people what she wants or doesn't want. Also, she's sure that Katsuki and that blonde woman couldn't care less about what y/n wants. Katsuki didn't even ask her if she wanted to come along. He just assumed and put her onto the back of his dragon. He also didn't ask or even attempt to explain to her what happened this morning. When suddenly three strange women stripped her down and dressed her up like a playdoll.

Maybe Nadia's right. These people do not care about her or the other women. Maybe they do only care about producing children. Maybe that's what Katsuki wants. Maybe him liking her is just a plus point. A little extra he gets because he's the big scary leader.

Y/n pulls her hair at the roots. She lets out a choked scream. She's angry and desperate and so, so frustrated. 

Suddenly something nudges her foot. It's one of the little red dragons from earlier. It looks up to her with almost puppy-like eyes and it nestles its head against her leg like a kitten. Y/n lets out a raspy breath she didn't notice she was holding. Furiously, she rubs her eyes.

How silly, she thinks, it's not like crying will help it. She pats the little one's head and suddenly another little one appears on her side. Before she can help it, she's getting tackled again. This time, they're softer than before. Competing for head pats rather than trying to sink their baby teeth into her arms and legs. It's like they are sensing y/n's bad mood and trying to cheer her up.

A giggle rises in y/n's throat and she tries to swallow it down. As she tries to give each of them a head pat, the great red moves over to her and nudges her with its snout as well. Y/n knows better than to touch it without permission. She gives it a small smile however and she believes seeing something like content in its eyes.

Eventually, the little red ones grow tired of tackling y/n and set to rest against the great red. The bigger dragon shifts its wing like it did when y/n and Katsuki looked for shelter under them during the rain. Y/n takes it up on the invitation and slides in between the little ones. She leans against the red's tummy. While the little dragons fall asleep around her and even the great red's breathing starts to slow down, y/n stays wide awake in the darkness.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight @nutellaenjoyer @musicbecky @miacitocco @cassouandco @penguinlovestowrite @sleepykittycx @bakugouswh0r3 @xxjesshuxx @helenamaximoff @ssssssws-world @k1tk4tkatsuki @gh0stgirl333 @anon-mouse223 @bexxs @i-am-ms-rebel-heart @wannabeisekai @spragaraga @faemagic88 @kolakoke @faetoraa @cax-per @willy-the-witch @stardream14 @jiyuu-da @mintytalesblog @sparklyoperaroadpie @musicbecky @maria-patricia @mistermemister @katsukismrs @l0kisbitch @bakukiriswife @rebel-loves-anime @drink-water-456

@gold24fish @notsaelty @kolakoke @all-in-the-fandoms @deftonianfr @faemagic88 @l-bozo-l @maria-patricia @alicecil87 @darlink-xoxo @novthewolf @berryvioo @leelee28901 @angie-1306 @miniaturebouquet @skibbiescoober @weebperson2003 @spragaraga @fudo-aki @stillcrazystacey @bakkusimpp @itsiambaby @lynnsqueendom @jinx-nanami @teddyinks @hello0815 @dualinstinct @megapintofmilkshake @potatocatsan @beansofskittles

[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[milswrites]

Hobbies Part 8.

~Azriel X Reader~

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: you know the drill - angst

Sometimes one of the hardest things to do when you’ve been hurt is to carry on living.

Y/N was no stranger to sadness. Growing up an orphan is difficult enough as it is, growing up a female orphan means your life is destined to fail.

But Y/N had always had a different outlook on life. She had always been an optimist. Positive that she would break the cycle and forge a place for herself in the world, even if she had been born into an unforgiving one.

And she had. Her ability to charm and influence people with her warming smile and kind nature had enabled her to climb her way up and into society. She worked well enough to have had her gentle disposition noticed by Helion who was more than willing to welcome her into his court.

Y/N had built herself a great life, one worth being proud of, yet now she found it crumbling around her. It’s hard to imagine that one person who had been in her life for such a short amount of time could change the trajectory of it forever. But Azriel had.

Y/N was simply the fool for allowing it to happen, knowing that he would eventually one day have to leave and return to his own life. Which he was more than happy to do without so much as a goodbye, not even leaving behind a damn letter.

Y/N had found that the well from which her tears flowed from had run dry. She refused to allow herself to mourn what could have been. If he hadn’t have been gracious enough to bid her the goodbye she deserved then he clearly wasn’t the man she thought he was. She would not allow herself to waste away over a man who had no interest in her.

So Y/N did what she knew best, survived. Once she had escaped from the meeting with Helion she had retreated home, overwhelmed by her emotions as sobs wracked her body. The tears from the shock of the shadowsinger’s unexpected departure eventually subsided and with swollen eyes she began to pack for her next job.

The easy option would have been to beg Helion for some time off work while she recovered from the shock of the events that had unfolded. But her broken heart willed her to move and take action. To leave to the rural villages that Helion had said required the attention of the Court. A break would be good for her, an opportunity to clear her mind and do what she was good at. Making people happy. Even if she wasn’t feeling it herself.

With no time to waste, Y/N packed her bags for the long trip, eager to leave when dawn made its appearance. She could at least be thankful for her lack of sleep the night before which was now taking its toll on her body, allowing her to drift off into a fitful sleep rather than mercilessly letting her stay awake with her thoughts. Her dreams, a cacophony of wings and shadows.

When morning finally arrived she was gone. Leaving her emotions and problems behind as she slipped on the smile she had become so accustomed to wearing.

~~~~~

Azriel had woken in his bed. Cassian must have brought him here last night, his last memory of the previous day had been his brother hugging him in Elain’s garden.

The knowledge that Y/N was gone weighed heavy on his chest, but what hurt more were the words of her neighbour who had recalled the state Y/N had been in. The state she was in because of Azriel who had failed to be there for her. Who had left her waiting.

He knew he had failed her. Azriel could try blame Rhysand for whisking him away all he liked, but the truth was that he should have returned to the Day Court as soon as his brother had winnowed him away. He had been too late to react.

Azriel was a coward. He had dedicated most of his life to a woman he would never have and then spent the past few months pining after another that he wasn’t allowed to have. And yet when the most perfect being alive had crashed into his life with no strings or rules attached, just an instant overwhelming attraction between them, he had blown it.

He had done what he had sworn not to do and torn away Y/N’s cauldron-blessed smile and led only pain in its wake.

Upon being home at last, Azriel discovered that his life here was awfully dull. Had it always been this way? The same monotonous routine day in and day out. Train, work, eat, sleep and repeat. He longed for something to do to fill his time and someone to enjoy it with. There being only one person who he wished could fill the void that had grown in the days since he had returned to the Night Court. The one person who he had no idea where in Pythian they were.

In a desperate attempt to find Y/N, Azriel spent most of his time eagerly waiting for his shadows return. His shadows which he had sent to scour the Day Court for Y/N. He wasn’t sure whether it was their inability to find her, or some disgust at what their master had done to her, but every night they returned with no news of Y/N or her whereabouts.

So Azriel continued living. A stranger in his own body as he continued to live the life he once had, not the one that he was allowed a taste of before it was ripped away from him.

He attempted to keep himself busy, to find something in this Court that brought him the joy he had felt in the past few weeks with Y/N. The rest of the inner circle were stunned to find Azriel baking in the kitchen one morning, seething in anger at his poor excuse of a cake. Not wanting to further upset the male who had already been so down, Cassian forced himself to eat the cake with an overly enthusiastic grin on his face, hiding his gagging which had resulted from the revolting texture. His bad acting didn’t even crack a smile on the shadowsinger’s face much to the General’s disappointment.

Azriel knew his friends were concerned about him, especially after his breakdown in the garden. They were all aware it was due to this mystery woman that Azriel had met during his time in Day, however, Azriel refused to share anything about her and they couldn’t understand why.

It took several days for Cassian to realise Azriel wasn’t going to open up about it, that he would tell his brothers about her if and when he wanted to. Grateful for his friend, Azriel welcomed Cassian’s silent and unquestioning company whenever he tried something new. It wasn’t Y/N and it didn’t heal his aching heart, but the knowledge of his brother being there for him was enough for Azriel to get by. One day at a time.

Two weeks had passed since Azriel’s not so joyous return to the Night Court. He had adjusted to being back in his home but the Y/N sized hole in his heart still existed. He wasn’t surprised the pain was still present, Y/N was his once in a lifetime type of love and Azriel had missed his opportunity.

He was sulking in the kitchen when Rhysand tentatively approached him. The same way he has been doing since his return, as if he expected Azriel to disappear once more only to never return. “Oh Az! There you are I’ve been looking for you” He said upon his approach, “Helion’s sent over a few of your things I must have missed.”

“You didn’t miss anything though?” Azriel frowned at Rhys’s words, wondering what Helion could have given Rhysand seeing as all his belongings had been brought back from Day court upon his arrival.

“Oh? Well they’re in your room if you want to check, I can always send them back to him if they’re not yours” his brother replied shrugging his shoulders as he exited the kitchen.

Curious, Azriel readily made his way to his bedroom, entering to see two items he didn’t recognise on his bed. A painting and a gift wrapped in black and tied neatly with a velvet bow. He approached his bed, heart rate increasing and tears welling in his eyes as the image painted on the canvas came into focus.

An inky black sky, littered with stars that Azriel could have sworn were twinkling, glowing warmly on the page like a lit candle. The beautiful skyline below of the Court he had come to care for, because it was the home of the woman he loved. He needn’t ask who painted this picture, the image a perfect copy of the same scene that was burned into his memory. A token from the best night of his life. With shaky hands, Azriel lifted the painting to appreciate it in all its glory. Scared to remove his eyes from the piece, he kept them locked onto the delicate strokes as if he stared at it long enough he’d be able to crawl through the canvas and escape back to that night. That he’d be given a chance to fix what had been broken.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat on his bed and admired the painting, but soon his attention was drawn to the wrapped gift which seemed to tug at his chest, calling him to it.

Tremor still present in his hands, he delicately pulled apart the bow and slowly opened the wrapping as if afraid to tear it. The dark paper fell away to reveal a cobalt blue tunic, decorated with silver thread that poured over the piece like liquid moonlight. A matching pair, Y/N’s dress and a tunic. His tunic.

Azriel took the time to run his scarred fingers over each whirl of thread that constructed the familiar lines of an Illyrian tattoo, making sure not to miss a single stitch out of fear of not showing the item the respect it deserves.

Once this task was complete he sped to the mirror in his room, stripping himself of his old black shirt and pulling on the tunic. Hands running down the soft material as he appreciated the way it looked on him, the way it was made for his body.

That same strange tug in his chest panged as he observed himself in the mirror. Not wanting to ignore its presence, or because he couldn’t control the need to interact with the strange sensation, he tugged at his chest as if pulling on a long thread.

Pulling and pulling until something inside of him finally released and it felt like his heart had burst open. His world exploded into violent shades of pinks, yellows and blues, the garish colours that he associated with Y/N. Azriel felt as though his senses had come to life for the first time, the vanilla scent of Y/N that emanated from the tunic was driving him wild.

Azriel had spent centuries longing for a mate, a need which had only grown greater when his brothers had found theirs. And now it had clicked for him too. The cauldron had tied him to the ethereal beam of light in his life. His beautiful smiling Y/N. She was his. His mate.

Azriel looked back to his now panting form in the mirror and crazed, frenzied eyes stared right back at him. He knew what needed to be done. Where he needed to go. And so Azriel left to go and find his mate.

Part 9

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Hope I’m starting to make up for all the tears I caused 😭

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

[hanaeriin]

蘇枋 ノ LONGING FOR THE HOLY NIGHT.

⋆˙⟡ featuring. god!suo hayato x fem!reader

⋆˙⟡ synopsis. you returned to your hometown with news of your engagement with your long-term fiancé; it was the happiest day of your life. However, everything changes when you encounter a small shrine dedicated to the god who seemed to be infatuated with you, and he seems to have known you ever since childhood...

⋆˙⟡ content. wind breaker (nii satoru) , yandere!suo , potentially ooc , spirited away , kidnapping , mind sensitivity (manipulation) , supernatural , horror.

⋆˙⟡ word count. 2.7k ,, sign up for taglist!! ,, m.list.

⋆˙⟡ note. my longest fic to date...my entry for pixelcafe's spooktober!! you don't want to know how many times I wrote the sentences for this one ahhh...special thanks to my sister, @marizuki for proofreading this!

For how much time has it passed?

Since your arrival, the moon in the sky has remained stationary. Time appears to stand still within the area, but signs of life are still detectable. This strange occurrence begs the question: Who is responsible for this? The person sleeping beside you is the same deity you used to play with during your childhood days. Someone you once considered a friend is the very person who has confined you in this place.

How did this come about? To do that, we must turn back time a few hours...

You returned to your childhood hometown, a modest village in the Japanese countryside where you were raised. You hadn't visited for years, but when you returned to the area, you shared news of your engagement and were pleased with their happiness for you. You let out a disappointed sigh as you realized you were alone, wishing you could have brought your fiancé, but he was busy working on an important project.

“Thinking about him more makes me even more excited to return home now~” you chuckled, a soft blush tinting your cheeks. With a skip in your step, you hummed your favorite tune while sitting on the bus stop's metal bench, leaning against the wall, eagerly awaiting the bus.

“Let's check, when is the upcoming bus scheduled to arrive?” After sitting up, you search for the bus schedule, and when you find it, you let out a surprised gasp, “Woah, not for another hour!?”

In the rural area, it takes approximately fifty minutes to reach the closest train station, with buses operating only every hour. Certainly, being in a secluded location implies there are no establishments, such as cafes or restaurants, where you can relax and pass the time. You wouldn't want to remain there for an extended period when it's bitterly cold outside, especially if you happen to be dressed in thin clothing today. To be truthful, what options do you have while waiting for the bus to come?

“Oh, I know! I can visit the shrine!” you exclaimed when he suddenly came to mind. You should be able to go to the shrine. It was within walking distance after all, and you used to spend a lot of time playing there as a child. You now wonder if he has forgotten about you.

“I hope that Suo has been doing well since I last saw him...” You muttered, picking up your things, and started walking on the roadside. It's been a long time, so it's time to go and visit. Perhaps Suo would be pleased to hear about your engagement.

Upon reaching the shrine, you will find the cherry blossoms in full bloom. At the center stood a small shrine, ancient wooden buildings showing their endurance over time, surrounded by pink cherry blossom petals, creating a beautiful sight.

“Suo!” You shouted his name as you did in your childhood and a gust of wind rustled the cherry blossoms replied. Flower petals gathered in front of the temple and a figure appeared; a young man in a white nagagi kimono, black hakuma, and a dark red haori. One eye was covered by an eyepatch and he flashed you the same smile, asking, “You called?”

Approaching with his hands hidden behind his back, he said, “It has been a while, Dove.”

“Suo! You didn't forget about me?” You had a smile on your face.

“Naturally, I have not. I'm amazed by how beautiful you've become since I last saw you,” He said, tilting his head as the strong wind swept through his long reddish-brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. He appears... extremely heavenly.

“Oh, thank you so much...” You smiled in response to the praise, cheeks blushing as you looked away.

“You never came back, so I thought you'd forgotten about me”

“I could never forget about you! You're my most important friend...”

“Friend, I see...”

You failed to observe his shift in tone and expression when you turned away from him, with your back towards him, “I've been living in the city for a while now, it's been ages since I returned home...”

“I feel somewhat comforted that the town and shrine remain unchanged...” You smiled, evoking memories of your days playing together. How the two of you engaged in various games like hide and seek, tag, and others, practically inseparable whenever possible. One day, when you tried to introduce him to your mother, you realized no one else could see him except you and that he was a god upon seeing your mother's horrified expression.

Since that fateful day, your mother has prohibited you from going to the shrine out of fear that you would be taken away, but you couldn't erase your first love from your memory and decided to sneak there against her will.

You were convinced that your mother was simply concerned because she couldn't see Suo. You trust that he would never kidnap you because of the gentle way he treated you, making it hard to imagine him doing something so ungentlemanly.

“If I may ask, what is the reason for your return?” He gazed at you with kind eyes.

You spun around, your face beaming with joy “I had some big news for my parents and wanted to share it with you too... I'm going to get married!”

“...” He had a puzzled expression as his smile disappeared.

What was the reason for him making that expression? However, his frightening expression quickly disappears, and the familiar smile reappears, “Oh? Congratulations.”

“Um, thank you?” Was it just your imagination? You couldn't tell.

“What does he like?”

“He's a very pleasant man to be with and excels at his job. He always prioritizes my happiness and he is a bit shy, but I adore that quality in him.”

“He sounds like a wonderful person.”

“Haha, yep!” You returned the smile, perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You were happy to see him acting normally, but then he surprised you by asking “What is his name?”

“His name?”

“I am a god, did you forget that? That is why I can pray for your happiness.”

“Really?! Uh, my name is (name) (surname), and his name is...”

“...(last name) (first name)” He grins with assurance and places his hands in front of your face, blocking your view with them while murmuring, “...You will be happy now” And suddenly, you lose consciousness.

Upon opening your eyes, you immediately realized you were situated under a large, ancient cherry blossom tree. You quickly sat up, scanning your surroundings, but you couldn't spot the shrine nearby. Suo appears before you and confirms that it was not just a dream.

“...W-where are we?”

“A universe exclusively designed for us”

“What are you talking about!?”

At that moment, you recall something your grandmother had told you ages ago.

“Once you are caught in his grip, there is no way to break free because his name is like a spirit. Pay attention, dear child...you should never reveal your name to him, as he is not a human.”

A feeling of shivers traveled down your back as you gazed up at him in fear, “W-Were you the one who just spirited me away?”

“You gave me no other option. Otherwise, you would have returned to that man” He sighed, hands at his back, gazing at the cherry blossoms tree, “It was determined a long time ago that we would wed.”

“You marrying me..?” You gasped with eyes wide open.

“Have you forgotten?” He gave you a confused expression.

Oh, now that he mentioned it, that did bring back some memories, back when you used to promise him that you would marry him in the future. However, the promise lost its significance as you eventually forgot about it. But for him, he could never let go of that memory. Not ever.

“I'll never allow anyone else to have you,” He grinned, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. It was only then that you realized you had mentioned both your and your fiancé's names to him, and you exclaimed, “Did you also spirit him away?!”

“Who?”

“The person I am engaged to!”

“Oh, him? I would not lay a finger on him as long as you are by my side.”

.

.

.

And now we have returned to the present. Looking at where Suo lay peacefully sleeping beside you, with his long eyelashes resting gently on his cheeks and the soft rise and fall of his chest indicating he was in a deep sleep, you saw a chance to slip away.

‘This is my opportunity to escape!’ You stand up silently before hurriedly leaving the shrine to get away. You turned to look at the wooden buildings with a sad expression in your eyes, uttering, ‘I'm sorry, Suo,’ gripping your shirt before swiftly running away to put some space between the two of you.

The silence outside is unsettling, only the sound of your footsteps and panting can be heard. While running, you looked back multiple times to check if anyone was following you, thinking, ‘I need to escape before he notices I'm gone!’ You dashed past numerous torii gates, with only the moonlight illuminating your way, leading you forward until eventually, you spot a glimmer of light.

Oh...!! Finally, you can go back home now! Without hesitation, you jumped straight into the pool of light. The bright light caused a temporary blur in your vision, but it quickly cleared up, revealing only the large Sakura tree in front of you. When you glance back, the Torii gates are no longer in view. It felt like you had suddenly appeared there out of nowhere, causing you to stagger back in shock, “H-How?”

“Dove”

“Eeek!?!”

Upon hearing his voice, you immediately spin around. Suo stood by the tori gate, gazing with disapproval as he asked, “Where have you been? I was searching for you...” His eyes shift towards your shaking form, your face blanching as he suddenly appears in front of you. He held your hand and pulled you close, wrapping his other arm firmly around your waist, asking, “You weren't trying to escape, were you?” Once more, his face displays an identical grin as you remain in his embrace, trembling.

The love of a god is pure and powerful. Escaping such love is not a simple feat.

His arms encircled you while he was asleep, ensuring that you wouldn't escape from him. He lovingly runs his hands through your hair, grinning and saying, “Your hair is incredibly soft.”

“Is that so?” It feels good for some reason, and you are beginning to feel at ease.

“A dove symbolizes peace” He reaches out to you, gently placing his hand on your cheek, looking kind “That's what you are to me... peace”

So, that is the reason he never used your actual name when speaking to you. You didn't pay attention initially when he began using that name, but despite his kind words, you couldn't help but question if he would have taken you away sooner if he had known your real name. You were frustrated with yourself for doubting it any further and revealing it without hesitation. Suo appears to be completely unaware of your emotions as he continues to talk about his past memories.

“As soon as you saw me, you would quickly come running towards me.”

“Is that true?”

“Mhm, you were prone to falling and shedding tears frequently”

“There's no need for you to recall that either!” You blushed and began to stutter as memories you had buried resurfaced, making you wonder if you were such a sensitive child in the past. You can't remember much, but upon reflection, you realize that every time you tripped and fell, Suo was there to lift you. He comforted you, reassuring you not to shed tears while patting your back.

All you can remember are happy memories, you can't recall any bad memories with him at all. Wasn't he always kind to you? He isn't the type of god who would behave in this manner...if you communicate with him, would he comprehend?

“Suo,” you murmured, gazing up at him gradually.

“What is it?” He responded with a questioning expression.

“You're special to me”

“I love you too, (name)”

“If you love me, then please let me go”

He stood motionless, his hand still caught in your hair, gazing at you intently, “Do you... prefer the other world more?”

As your heart beats faster, you remind yourself that you mustn't let fear take over. With the prospect of an eternity here looming, you meet his gaze with resolve and express your feelings quietly. “I wish to return, to be with my fiancé at home. I wouldn't be content staying here.” His lips stayed silent, yet his eyes expanded briefly.

“I'm sorry, but I hope we can remain friends so please don't make me hate-” Just as you were going to end your sentence, you gasped as gentle lips met yours, ‘A kiss?!’ it was a tender kiss that lightly touched your lips. Then he leans in and kisses you more deeply.

He retreats, gazing at you with such fondness yet his eyes look lonely, “No need to speak further. I understand...”

Does he understand your feelings...? What's the deal with that kiss then...

He runs his fingers through your hair once more, “(name), please be happy,” his grin fades as tears flow, he cups your face while you close your eyes tightly and cry. In the next instant, a sudden burst of bright white light dazzles your eyes and before you know it, your awareness begins to fade, “...Hm? "What...?”

Upon waking up, you discovered that you were situated beneath a large cherry tree near the shrine, pondering, “How did I end up here??” You scrutinized your environment, experiencing deja vu as if you'd forgotten something important, wondering if your purpose here was to pray. Your emotions about the situation were a jumble, you have no recollection of anything from arriving until waking up under the tree, “I must have dozed off here by mistake...”

.

.

.

That evening, you returned to the city where you both reside with your fiancé. You were getting dinner ready as you awaited his return, giggling and humming happily while beginning to chop green onions.

DING DONG

“Ah, he's back!” You cried out, placing the kitchen knife onto the cutting board and then shutting off the stove. After that, you quickly walk to the door, still wearing your apron, and greet them with a smile as you open it, saying “Welcome back!”

“I'm back” He grinned upon seeing your frown, you were still adorable despite the upset expression.

“You're late!” You sulked, feigning annoyance.

“I'm sorry, I had to stay late at work,” he said, drawing you near, his hand resting on your lower back as he kissed you on the lips. You gazed at him, confused as he laughed and said, “You look good in that apron.”

“I-I...uhh thanks?” You stammered, turning pink.

He kissed you once more, this time on the tip of your nose, causing you to quickly avert your gaze, feeling embarrassed. ‘I don't recall him being so daring...’ Was it all in your head that he, who never used to be so openly loving and complimentary towards you, was suddenly behaving this way? His personality couldn't suddenly transform overnight.

You attempted to banish that uncomfortable sensation from your thoughts, as you plaster on a cheery smile and say, “Listen! Today I returned home and shared the news of our engagement with everyone!“

“How did everything turn out?”

“Everyone was filled with joy! They would love to see you, you should join me in visiting them next time.”

“That's great, let's plan our next meeting shortly, Do-(name)”

“Now that your parents have given us the green light, nothing can stop us now...”

“Uh-huh!” You vigorously nodded “It's hard to believe... that we'll be together forever.” You hid your face in his chest, feeling a bit timid to meet his gaze, unaware of the confident smile he wore.

So, are you truly able to be with the person you love now?

The love of a god is both pure and powerful.

It's difficult to completely break free from that love...

⋆˙⟡ taglist. @hayatoseyepatch , @ryescapades , @the-original-skipps , @stunies , @nyxypoo , @ambiguouslady42 , @kaq3yma , @pixelcafe-network , @interstellar-inn + @play5withsquirrels ("no blog found")

- ˕ •マ . . . ownership of hanaeriin !! please do no steal, repost, copy, modify , plagiarize or translate any of my works on any platforms.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that take place in a small town, rural area as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

🏡 I'll Fly Away by @juliusschmidt

(E, 122k, childhood friends) Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not

🏡 Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(M, 113k, lighthouse) As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

🏡 Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule / @baroness-elsa

(T, 93k, magical realism) Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

🏡 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

(NR, 88k, historical) 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

🏡 ocean tides you home (series) by @justanothershadeofblue

(M, 88k, Eroda) Harry is a lonely and depressed popstar who sailed out of his hometown on Eroda years ago to chase his dreams. He comes back to the island only to find his shining childhood best friend Louis just as cold and dreary as the island they grew up on.

🏡 Into the Weeds by kair0sclerosis

(M, 87k, secrets) Following the whispered words of a stranger, Harry Styles finds himself in the small town of Peri Ridge. It’s a town nestled within overgrown forests, raging rivers, and ominous mountains- full of unkept secrets, the aura of freedom, and lost people seeking to be found.

🏡 (Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

(E, 86k, Northern Exposure au) Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

🏡 Full Moon Dreaming by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 43k, soulmates) Louis has given up hope of dreaming of a person, resigned to living a life devoid of that kind of all-consuming love for another and receiving the same in return. But when a new neighbour descends on Louis’ beloved Hanson Bay and moves into the other beach house, could all that be about to change?

🏡 The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus

(M, 39k, HTTYD au) Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism.

🏡 Something About Liminal Spaces by @kingsofeverything

(E, 34k, age difference) Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

🏡 It's the Climb by @lululawrence

(NR, 25k, Hannah Montana au) Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer.

🏡 It's Coming on Christmas by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 23k, girl direction) When Harry Styles gets a call from the caretaker of a bakery in a small town in Vermont, she jumps at the chance to get out of Boston and run her own shop.

🏡 Naked & Proud by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

(E, 18k, songwriter Louis) In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

🏡 Between the forest and the field by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 16k, meet cute) the one where Harry recently moved to a village and his shy dog picks Louis' dogs to play with at the dog park. A fluffy cottage core AU.

🏡 Won’t Let You Down by noellehenry / @noellehenry-original

(M, 15k, inheritance) In a matter of weeks, Harry’s world turns upside down. Suddenly he’s the owner of a farm and B&B, gets involved in illegal trading of unlabeled bottles and has to deal with his everlasting crush on his sister Gemma’s best friend, who has returned to Woodville…

🏡 You Tilted My Hand by @taggiecb

(G, 12k, photographer Harry) Harry Styles arrives in Avonlea, Prince Edward Island for his first day of a coveted and prestigious summer internship at the Avonlea Chronicle. He's quick to realise that he's out of place in the little band of journalists as he's an art major and they didn't choose Harry to be part of the team!

🏡 Babe, There's Something Lonesome About You by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 8k, witch Louis) Louis is a hedge witch, who lives a lonely, solitary life. He's quite happy with his shop in Door County, selling New Age magics to the tourists. 

🏡 Warm Chilling by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow

(G, 7k, neighbors) Louis moves into a cosy cottage in the English countryside with his dog Clifford to look after his great-aunt's animals.

- Rare Pairs -

🏡 Grundy County Incidents (series) by @haztobegood

(T, 10k, Harry/Louis/Nick Grimshaw & Zayn/Liam & Niall/Greg James) 25 years, 7 friends, 3 relationships, 1 rural county

🏡 Something Good (And I Don't Just Mean Your Chips) by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(T, 9k, Harry/Nick Grimshaw) Nick's uncle's will left his seaside cottage, his fishing boat, and all the contents of both to Nick. Coming off the back of months of very poor life choices, a brand new start in a Yorkshire seaside village seems the last remaining option for Nick

[mxtxfanatic]

Wei Wuxian the Girls Girl

Usually in a danmei, I am used to seeing the main male characters only really interact with male characters. Even nameless background characters are more likely to be boys and men than girls and women (funnily enough, it's the opposite gender ratio in baihe). In mdzs, though, Wei Wuxian interacts with girls and women, and he interacts with them often! He knows how to put them at ease:

They wore bamboo baskets on their backs, linen shirts, and straw shoes; they had the rustic, earthy appearance of rural villagers from head to toe . Among them was an almost delicate and pretty young woman with a round face, who had perhaps walked under the harsh sun for too long and wanted to sit in the shade and drink some water. But when she saw the donkey tied to the tree, braying and stomping discontently, and the wild-haired lunatic with red and white pigment smeared all over his face sitting next to it, she became frightened and wouldn’t approach. Wei Wuxian had always considered himself protective and caring of women, so seeing her state, he moved to create space for her and went to bother the donkey. Only once the travellers saw he was harmless did they relax and come near. ... The cultivators had now rested enough and were preparing to take off. Before they left, the round-faced young woman took a half- green, half-red apple from the basket on her back and passed it to Wei Wuxian. “This is for you.”

—Chapt. 6: Pride I, fanyiyi

Some of the women were old and some were young, but all grew nervous when they saw an unfamiliar young man approaching and looked as though they wanted to toss aside their baskets and flee inside. Only after Wei Wuxian said a few smiling words did they gradually calm down and shyly reply to him. When he pointed at the slab of rock and asked a question, all of their faces turned uniformly pale, and only after a great deal of hesitation did they begin to answer him, stammering and gesticulating. All the while, they refused to look at Lan Wangji, who was standing near the stone, any more than necessary. Wei Wuxian listened attentively, one corner of his mouth uplifted the entire time. Once they were finished and the subject changed, the women returned to their original color, gradually relaxed, and smiled at him artlessly.

—Chapt. 33: Flora I, fanyiyi

He knows how to harmlessly charm (or annoy lol) them to get something out of them, but also repays the kindness:

As though he hadn’t just fought water ghosts and fled from the mouth of a watery abyss, he calmly and confidently shot flirtatious smiles at the river’s two shores. “Sisters, how much for half a kilo of loquats?” He was very young, and had a bright, dashing appearance that glowed with vitality and spirit: veritably a frolicking peach blossom chasing after the flow of the river. A smile bloomed on the face of a woman nearby, and she pulled up her bamboo hat. “Oh, you little charmer, how about I give you one free of charge?” The notes of Wu in her voice were pure, sweet and soft like sticky rice. From her lips sprang touching melodies, filling the ears of those who listened with fragrance. Wei Wuxian cupped his hands and said, “Naturally, anything Sister wishes to give to me, I want!” The woman reached into her basket and felt for a round golden loquat, which she tossed toward him. “No need to be polite. It’s for your good looks!” Swiftly, the boats sailed toward each other, the hulls brushing by as they passed. Wei Wuxian turned, caught the loquat head on and grinned. “You’re even more pretty!”

—Chapt. 17: Elegance VII, fanyiyi

When Lan Wangji lifted his head again, he even saw Wei Wuxian pull out something from his robes and give it to the woman who had spoken the most. ... “If you ask someone a lot of questions, you have to give them a gift to thank them for their trouble. Originally, I was going to give them some silver, but they got scared and didn’t want to take it. I found that they liked the smell of the rouge. They didn’t seem as though they’ve used that type of thing before, so I gave it to them.”

—Chapt. 33: Flora I, fanyiyi

Lan Jingyi waved his hand. “Quiet! What happened to Wei Wuxian? What did that devil do? Did he kidnap her?” he said urgently. “No, not that,” Lan Sizhui replied. “He specifically set off for Tanzhou from Yunmeng to see the Lady of Ephemerals. He came to the garden to recite poetry. But every time he did, he would intentionally make a mistake and provoke her into hitting him with a flower and throwing him out. When he woke up, he would crawl back in again and continue his loud and incorrect poetry recitation. After repeating this twenty or so times, he finally saw the lady’s face clearly. He then left and ran around singing praises to her beauty. But he had also angered her so much that she refused to come out for a long, long time. Every time she saw him, she pelted him with a blizzard of flowers—a truly stunning sight...”

—Chapt. 45: Beauty III, fanyiyi

Wei WuXian grinned, “I heard all of them call you MianMian, so I thought that it’s your name. What, it’s not?” ... MianMian’s cheeks flushed, “You can’t call me that!” Wei WuXian, “Why not? How about this: if you tell me your name, I won’t call you MianMian anymore. What do you think?” MianMian, “Why do I have to tell you just because you asked? Before you ask for somebody else’s name, you should tell them your name first, shouldn’t you?” Wei WuXian, “Sure, if you want my name. Remember, my name is ‘YuanDao’.” MianMian silently pronounced the name ‘YuanDao’ a few times. She couldn’t remember if the young master of any sect had such a name. But, judging from the boy’s air and appearance, she didn’t think he was the average disciple. Looking at the teasing smile at the corners of Wei WuXian’s lips, she didn’t know what was going on. Suddenly, Lan WangJi’s low voice came from beside them, “A play on words.” She realized at once that it had been taken from the poetry line ‘its ceaseless bounds yearn for miles and miles on’ and he was making fun of her. She stomped her feet in spite, “Who’s yearning for you? You have no face!” The girls collapsed into a laughing mess, chirping, “Wei WuXian, you really have no face!” “I’ve never seen someone as annoying as you!” “Let me tell you, she’s called...” MianMian dragged them away and turned to leave, “Let’s go, let’s go! You can’t tell it to him.” Wei WuXian shouted from behind, “You can go, but give me a sachet, won’t you?! You’re ignoring me? You don’t want to? If you don’t, I’ll find other people and ask for your name. There must be someone out there who’s willing to tell me...” Before he finished, a perfume sachet flew over from in front of him. It landed right in the middle of his chest.

—Chapt. 52: Courage, exr

The boys responded in the same way, before all nudging at Wei WuXian, “Shixiong, they’re calling you! They’re calling you!” Wei WuXian looked carefully. Indeed, the women had encountered them before while he was leading the group. His mood immediately lifted and he stood up to wave, grinning, “What’s up!?” The boat drifted alongside the water’s currents. The women followed it on the shore, chatting, You boys went to steal lotus seed pods again, didn’t you!?” ... As the two argued, another one of the women called out, “Was it good?” Wei WuXian managed to reply, “What?” The woman, “The watermelon we gave you. Was it good?” Wei WuXian realized, “So you were the ones who gave us the watermelon. It was delicious! Why didn’t you come in and sit? We could’ve poured you some tea!” The woman smiled, “You lot weren’t there when we visited, so we left without going in. I’m glad to hear it tasted good!” Wei WuXian, “Thank you!” He fished out a couple of big seed pods from the bottom of the boat, “Here are some lotus seed pods. Next time you visit, come me and watch me train!”

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

He even hangs out with them unprompted, specifically choosing their company in some cases:

Back in Yunmeng, many girls from the Jiang Clan had envied him because he was going to go study with Lan Wangji. They had said that the Gusu Lan Clan produced generation after generation of beautiful men, and that among his generation, the Twin Jades were uncommonly beautiful.

—Chapt. 14: Elegance IV, fanyiyi

Wei WuXian, “It’s me! Someone who does such a ridiculous thing has to be me. Where did you find the time to come to Yunmeng? If you’re not busy, come up here and have a drink?” A few girls encircled him, all cramped onto the divan, laughing at those down below, “Yeah, Young Master, come up here and have a drink!” The girls were the ones who tossed flowers at him earlier on. There was no need to say who was the person that told them to do such a thing.

—Chapt. 71: Departure, exr

Wei WuXian urged, “Then throw some! If you throw some this time, next time you can ask them if the seed pods tasted good, and you’ll be able to make conversation again!” The shidi were in awe, “So that’s why! What a lesson. You have so much experience with these things, Shixiong!” “You can tell he does this on a regular basis!”

—Chapt. 125: Lotus Seed Pod Extra, exr

And lest we forget his track record of protecting all of the good named female characters at some point or other during the course of the novel: Mianmian against Wang Lingjiao, Jiang Yanli against Jin Zixuan, and Wen Qing against the whole of the cultivation world. Truly a girls girl if ever I've seen one!

[ellecdc]

perhaps r works as a vet or with a wildlife protection agency etc and brings a horse to farrier!remus and he just falls for her bc he sees how much she cares about the horse and her gentle nature and it soothes him 😋

this has been stuck in my mind since my original post re: farrier!Remus so I finally took a stab at it! thanks for the prompt, I hope I did it justice! <3

A Horseshoe for Luck

Farrier!Remus Lupin x Veterinarian!reader who consults with Remus on a case [1.3k words]

CW: fem!reader, situation inspired by a horse who was lost for a few years and when found had severe overgrowth of his hooves (happy ending), don't look too closely at the plot if you're a Horse Girl (gn) thank you xx

Remus heaved in a sigh as he pulled down the long gravel driveway to his latest appointment. 

He’d known there was a new vet in town, which came with a certain level of relief and a certain level of concern.

The rural coasts of Wales were no doubt hurting for Veterinarians (and service providers in general), but the communities were notoriously closed-knit and standoffish to ‘outsiders’ and were completely incapable of keeping newcomers around for any amount of time.  

Every new vet that this village saw came from the city, and every new vet left after a measly year-or-two long stint max. 

He couldn’t necessarily blame them; sometimes it took a local to manage the locals, but this left him with a certain level of distrust.

Too many times has Remus been called upon by the new city-sent vets just to be spoken down to or dismissed entirely because they believed that they knew better.

So, though he knew this vet would probably be much the same - some young, newly minted vet fresh out of school who had accepted the first available job they could find - he also knew that his area was in desperate need of a vet, and that he also had a job to do.

So he dutifully parked his truck and opened the cab to retrieve his tools when a frazzled looking tech approached him.

“You must be Mr. Lupin! I’m Hannah, I was the one who spoke to you on the phone.” She offered quickly. 

“Just Remus s’fine. Was this a wild horse?” He asked, not interested in smalltalk as he followed her towards a large barn. 

“No, not originally at least. The owners have been looking for him for two years and finally found him with a wild herd - managed to bring him back in.”

“Is he sound?”

“His hooves are in horrid condition - the doctor has done a preliminary check on the rest of him but would really like to get him some relief for his feet before she does anything more to him.” 

“And who are they?” He asked as he passed a couple standing outside of the barn doors.

“The owners.” The tech - Hannah - offered quickly. 

“Have they not seen their horse?” He asked, noticing that the tech hesitated before turning down the run where he could hear some activity. 

“They have, but they were very anxious and excited to be reunited with him. The doctor felt that for an animal who has spent the last two years in a wild herd, it might be best to keep the area calm. I - erm, well, are you calm, Mr. Lup- erm, Remus?”

Remus let out a snort and nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m pretty calm.”

Hannah smiled in relief as she turned the corner which exposed a large brown and white paint horse secured in cross ties. Standing at his head where there should be a stuffy city vet in a crisp white lab coat barking orders at various techs and stablehands was simply a woman (a very beautiful woman, Remus had to admit, though didn’t feel it was entirely professional to recognise), wearing dirty activewear with her hair messily pulled back and a stethoscope thrown over her shoulders as she murmured quietly to the horse. 

Remus almost felt bad for the horse when Hannah interrupted your conversation with it to introduce you to Remus. 

You accepted Remus’ handshake quickly without the usual stuffy-city vet hesitation to check for clean fingernails (he worked with the likes of sodding barn animals for christ sake, give him a break) and a warm smile that actually met your eyes as you looked into Remus’ (and into his soul, he was sure). 

“Thank you so much for coming, Remus. I’ve heard great things about you since I’ve arrived, I’m only sorry I haven’t had a chance to make your acquaintance until now.”

“I’ve been eager to meet you as well.” Liar, Remus scolded himself immediately; though, had he known the new vet had been the likes of you? Well, maybe he would have been more eager. “So, the poor lad’s got some major overgrowth?” He asked as he looked at the horses hooves instead of admiring your figure like he’d much prefer to be doing.

“I can’t tell if there’s lameness because of an injury or if it’s just his instability on these hooves of his so I figured a trim was our next best step, but what do you think? Is there something I’m overlooking?”

Remus managed to mask his surprise at your collaboration with a simple farrier (versus what would have usually been orders given in a bored tone before the vet fucked off further into the barn only to come out in the end to inspect his work) by doing a walkaround as he felt the horses legs. 

The horse seemed somewhat tense at the attention he was receiving, but quickly calmed when you began massaging around his neck and murmuring to him in a low, dulcet tone.

Fuckin’ hell, Remus was jealous of a horse. 

“No, I think you’re quite right. Let’s get him onto more balanced footing and then you can work your magic.” He offered after his inspection, earning him a beaming smile from you in the process. 

“Are we shoeing him?”

You tilted your head as you looked over at the horse as if waiting for him to respond. “What do you think?” You asked Remus instead. “A horseshoe for luck?”

And though Remus knew that you knew the shoes would really just provide more strength and protection for the equines hooves, he was not one to deny himself a chance at luck, so he quickly agreed.

“Do you mind an audience, or would you prefer if I left?” You asked then as you backed away from the horse to allow Remus to set up.

He normally preferred solitude; he was in this business because he, admittedly, found the company of animals far more enjoyable than that of humans, but he couldn’t deny that he wasn’t quite ready to have you leave his company yet. 

So you sat - on the dusty, straw strewn flooring - as you watched Remus work; polite conversation inching further and further away from business as the job progressed. What started out as him asking how long you’d been out of school, what made you want to study veterinary medicine, ended up with what brought you here of all places.

“Peace…solitude. I wanted a quieter pace of life and to live somewhere where I could know the people around me instead of just knowing that there were people around me; does that make sense?” You asked then, allowing your head to loll to the side as you considered him. 

“I think so; don’t usually find people running here though…most are running away.”

“Looking for a quicker pace of life?”

“Something like that.” He agreed as he finished up one hoof and moved onto another. 

“But not you?”

“Not me.” He agreed.

“Why’s that?”

Remus paused at that, chancing a look at you and finding that to be a horrid mistake because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to return to his work when you were smiling at him that sweetly. 

“I wanted peace…solitude. A quiet pace of life where I could know the people around me, I suppose.” 

Your smile grew subtly at his rephrasing of your previous words. “Fair enough.” 

The trim seemed to do the trick; the horse no longer showing any lameness in his legs as Remus watched you lunge him around the dusty arena alongside the very happy owners. 

“What do you think, Remus? Did he look good?” You called to him as you handed the lead to the owners. 

“Looked perfect.” He responded simply. 

The horse, you, the rural coast of Wales now that you were here.

He found himself suddenly very happy to have a new vet in town, and hoped to all hell that you outlasted the many vets that came before you.

[bunny-lily]

Tether Me - Prologue

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader Summary: You ran.

It's what you did in life. It's all you knew how to do. You ran, ran, and kept running and never stopped, because if you stopped, it meant you were trapped, chained, a bird with shredded wings in a gilded cage.

So, how did you end up here, tucked away into a little village in rural Japan, falling into the depths of two black holes with no way to escape?

How could you run from this? From them?

…Would you? CW: No y/n | polyamory | slow burn | slice of life | alt au - no curses | fluff | light angst | eventual smut | forgive me, there's internal monologues | I like using big words... | Gojo & Geto are whipped for you | emotionally constipated reader | (most of the tags have been condensed, you can find the full list on my ao3 here) AN: this is just the prologue chapter, sort of exposition. No bois in this one (technically), but I'm posting chapter 1 at the same time as the prologue. As a heads up, my most comfortable place for posting my longer fics like this is ao3. You can find more of my blurb thoughts on there. I'm not the best at tumblr posting, so forgive me pls ;-;

Ch: Prologue | Ch: 1 | Ch: 2 | Ch: 3 | Ch: 4 | Ch: 5 - 1 | Ch: 5 - 2

WC: 9.4k

You’ve always likened yourself to a kite, but less pretty and enjoyable.

Every time you glanced at a kite in the children’s toy section, or watched as thousands flew in the sky during festivals, your eyes stung and something bitter and uncomfortable twisted in your gut. In a way, you saw yourself in them; fragile little creatures tethered to the earth by no fault of their own. So easy to snap – to break.

They were always trapped, chained down, forever bound to either get reined back in after one had their fill of fun, or to fall like tragic angels to the ground when the winds died, and they would once again be unable to travel free amongst the stars where they belonged. All thanks to the threads wrapped around their very bones, far too strong for something that looked so thin and prone to fraying.

Yet nobody ever did release the chains. Who would willingly free their prized, imprisoned bird?

Of those pretty, unfortunate kites, you lamented with them. 

You, too, were pinioned to solid ground. Your wings were clipped, feathers torn from flesh one by one until you were born in a body that could no longer fly. Responsibilities, duties, relationships – they all kept you drowning in a suffocating pile of down-stuffed pillows, filled with plumes that were once yours. They progressively got heavier and heavier, locking your limbs between illusions of comfort and safety, sitting on your chest and flooding your mouth until you choked and gagged and couldn’t breathe.

You were different from kites, sure, beyond the very obvious things. You weren’t a pitifully flimsy, inanimate toy, left forgotten in some closet, awaiting the one day you’d be remembered, taken out, and allowed to taste the breath of deities themselves again. But if you could glide in the wind like they could, oh, nothing would bring you more joy, more solace, even if you were still tied down. All for just a kiss of freedom.

You ached to be detached from everything and everyone. An untethered kite, a fledgling bird learning to fly, a paper lantern that glowed its very joy from within for all to see.

Paper lanterns.

You couldn’t stand paper lanterns, because you yearned so deeply to be one. How wonderful it would be to have a warmth alight inside you as you rose to the heavens, lighter than air. 

You envied them. 

They made you nauseous with longing.

They made you want to stretch your fingers high and try to catch one within your palm like a cascading star.

They made you want to reach your fist past your throat and rip out your heart barehanded, just to make the accursed thing stop pounding so goddamned hard in your stomach as it sank lower and lower with each additional candle that got to join their family of stars beyond celestia. 

Because, for fuck’s sake, you belonged up there, too. Free, flaring, blazing and flickering so spectacularly that philosophers would wax poetic about you for ages to come.

It wasn’t fucking fair for you to be stuck on Mother Nature’s spine like this, burdened by the neutron star in your body that just grew more and more dense, urging you to dive into the ocean and let it snare you into its depths. You didn’t choose to spawn with a spirit disconnected from the flesh that acted as its prison, you didn’t choose to be jailed like this.

So, why?

Maybe that’s one of the reasons you were drawn to kites. You pitied them. You pitied yourself.

You weren’t a kite. You didn’t want to be one, to have your boundless form fettered down. But when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, that’s all you could ever see staring back at you. A kite with faded, worn out paints that barely clung to the tattered paper, feebly held together by thin strips of bamboo that had been aged and mottled from the inside out by time.

You hated paper lanterns. You hated kites. You hated yourself.

As the years dragged on, from the moment your brain snapped into your body with the sudden realization that you were a conscious, living, breathing person, those ugly feelings festered and spread like a fungus that refused to abate even a trace, just a second so you could catch a breath of fresh air that didn’t reek of mildew.

The seconds spanned on for eons without prejudice, destroying your cells at the molecular level with each passing birthday that trudged reluctantly along.

In the back of your mind, the sensation of being asphyxiated by your own feathers that had been shorn away from you etched itself deeper and deeper into your psyche. You became restless, antsy, the variegated world around you fading rapidly. Colors you once saw as a child, before you could latch the inherent sense of wrongness in your chest to a concept, gradually dulled until all you were left with was a world tinged heavily in gray.

The streets you were raised on grew denser, despite the amount of people living on them never actually changing noticeably. The verdant grass of your backyard turned into a dominating presence everytime you laid your eyes on it, unruly and all-consuming, demanding an undivided attention you did not want to give. The orange beams that hung over black asphalt instilled a sense of panic in you that wasn’t there before. 

You used to be fond of walking around your neighborhood in the middle of the night, when you rightfully should have been sleeping. An inverted circadian rhythm suited you well when you were young, unaware that the crushing sensation under your sternum would only get worse. 

Now, though, the thought of straying out where there wasn’t enough light to see straight ahead made sweat form on your chest and palms while your teeth clattered from a nonexistent chill.

Everything caved in on you. Not in a rush, not in a cataclysmic flood. No, you didn’t discern you were fighting for air until you were already gasping fruitlessly. Lost, terrified, unsure, you could only bear witness to the collapse of your own mind.

Then, one day, a soft voice whispered in your ear.

Run.

It wasn’t a threat, not some ominous warning of death looming over your shoulder. It was a suggestion, an offering, an olive branch towards that freedom you coveted. It was salvation. 

Who were you to ignore the hand of deliverance?

The first time you changed your scenery, moved elsewhere, even if it was only a few streets away from your childhood home, felt incredibly liberating. After so long that you had forgotten how it felt, you got the chance to gulp down air as if you had surfaced from beneath the perdition sea after spending your whole existence beneath it. 

Color returned to your world, excitement formed anew, everything felt right. Achromatic wastelands turned into kaleidoscopic meadows, fulgent and lucid. You savored it, reveled in it, frolicked and danced and lived.

…It didn’t last. 

Not long. You exhaled, and it all vanished, sand swept away by an uncaring and spiteful hand.

Once you had become used to the environment, when you no longer had to actively remember where your flat was, or how long it took to get to the store, everything was washed out; water dumped on a painting that had yet to form defined shapes.

That crushing sensation had returned, and with it the reminder that, as much as you wished you weren’t, you were a kite. Tethered, perpetually confined, worn bamboo strips and thin paper threatening to rend under the drag.

Thus, you ran again. A new town, a new city, a new skyline. Euphoria nestled cozily under your breast like a second heart, purring contentedly as it curled up on the nest of blankets it created for itself.

New places, new faces, new people. All of it was fascinating to you beyond measure. It interested you to no end to learn about other human beings; their thoughts, their perspectives, their preferences. What they despised with grit teeth and barely restrained anger clenched in trembling fists; what they loved so dearly that they could never drown beneath the same waves that followed your heels, tide rising progressively. 

They glowed from within, bright and budding and vibrant. Their eyes flickered with life, glazed so clearly that stars sparkled in the depths of their hues. You were drawn to them, a moth to mesmerizing fire.

You felt free. You rode that high as much as you could, for as long as it would allow.

Until a realization struck you with the force of a bullet train one night. A man hung onto your arm, easy laughter shared between the two of you as you let him take you home. Alcohol tinged his breath, but not enough to give him anything more than a slight buzz. He was a total gentleman through and through, and you listened with eagerness as he spoke about his upcoming work project, his excitement palpable with every word. 

His hand linked with yours, fingers intertwined, his warm palm engulfing yours. There was a comfort in that transient window of time, one you held to your heart. It was so unfamiliar, so addictive. And as you stopped before your door, having completely forgotten of your lack of wings, you waited with bated breath for him to slant into you.

A pair of infirm lips, minutely chapped and tasting of wine, pressed against yours, and dread exploded in your gut.

He pulled away from you, lovestruck in the way his eyes shone as he looked into your own, and reality crashed down on you with horrors in three measures, shattering like broken glass in the vortex of your conscious thought.

When you stared at him, watched the way he opened his mouth to speak, you made the connection.

“I really like you,” he had murmured to you that night, nearly shy. Yearning. Hoping.

Paper lantern.

“I want to ask you out properly.”

Tether. 

His words sank into your skin like ice, digging deep, burrowing into your marrow.

Kite.

The illusion of pellucid skies of the richest shades cracked, the lush plains you fantasized of often turned to barren heaths, and all those tormenting feelings came back to choke your breath with a vengeance. Sickly fingers wrapped around your throat, sunk into your mouth, dug past your gag reflex, wrapped around your ankles and wrists until you could barely lift your feet just to move forward. 

You remembered with great disdain what you were. You had managed to sever your thread by running off from the pod you were born in, but it wasn’t a clean cut. The string hung off your fragile wooden bones loosely, just waiting for somebody to grab and yank, to shred your freedom away from you once again, to leave you knotted around a pole to sit like decoration and stay.

You were not free.

You were not a paper lantern. You did not gleam from your soul like he did. You did not pour light from your heart and words and touch.

You’d do anything to forget that, to prove that sentiment wrong, to show the world that you weren’t a rock thrown into a pond. You’d do anything to change the narrative, to force a rewrite. So, you did what you always did.

You ran.

You found somewhere else to live, blipping off the radar unannounced. One moment you were there, the next you had cut your lingering thread an inch shorter, following the wind blindly like a duckling to your next destination.

Each time you settled down somewhere, you had this silent hope: maybe this is where I’ll be happy.

You clung to that hope, fervently ignoring the screeching whisper in your ear that said otherwise. The next place was never the final one. It never would be, no matter how hard you tried to delude yourself into believing you weren’t a lost soul, unable to move on. Some pathetic ghost you’d make, if you weren’t one already.

Whenever you let yourself rest for a heartbeat too long, the rope you had trimmed ever shorter was skimmed too close by too-warm fingertips, and you fled again, and again, and again.

That’s all you seemed to know nowadays.

Perhaps proven now, as you sat on a train in a foreign country, absentmindedly watching rural landscapes race past the window. Your knuckles pressed indents into your cheek, the sensation unpleasant and nearing on painful, though you had stopped paying any mind to it a while ago. Your thoughts laid scattered at your feet, and you couldn’t be bothered to pick them up.

Rather, the white matter of your brain was being filled with the empty, buzzing tune of songs you’d heard a hundred times over playing through your earbuds at the loudest volume possible. It made things easier to manage during this grand, several-thousand-mile-long trip. The less thinking you had to do, the better. It was the absolute last thing on your bucket list, loitering just under the cutoff line, hoping to sneak in a few words you refused to listen to.

You couldn’t let yourself regret this. You wouldn’t.

Not now, not after you’d already dropped everything and dissipated beyond the welkin’s gaze. You had only one place you could go to at all now, and you were already on your way there.

So if you had to blast your eardrums out to bridle the whisper-shouting voices spurned by overthinking, so be it.

Rice paddies blurred by, blending in from one farm to the next. The sun reflected off the waters the stalks soaked in, absorbing the warmth the light provided and feeding the plants with the fruit of life. Somewhere along the way, you had begun counting each field you passed for no particular reason.

You thought it’d lull you to sleep like counting sheep, subconsciously desiring to sink into a dreamless abyss and catch up on the hours that had been eluding you every night for months up to this point, given how far away you still were from your destination. But your cerebrum was not kind to you, and your body refused to succumb to the tempting allure of nothingness.

Thus, you remained as you were, counting paddies as the day never quite moved forward. The sun dwelled high, trying to glare down on you, but it couldn’t get the angle right to invade the shade of your tiny cabin room on the train.

It stayed stuck to the center of the sky, mighty and proud. But then, after what seemed like only a few seconds, you blinked, and suddenly it was hanging off the horizon’s ledge.

With a slight jolt, you realized the train had decreased in speed, and was continuing to lose momentum as it approached an isolated station, all alone in the countryside. You checked the time on your phone, your eyes feeling unusually heavy and sticky. It was only early night, but you were worn down to your sinew.

Right. Jet lag. You had hopped on a plane and traveled to the other side of the planet on a whim, another desperate attempt to grab onto the concept of freedom you craved. It didn’t take you longer than a week to find a small house deep in the pastoral lands of Japan, where mountains wrapped around the valley like a scarf. You chose Japan, if only because you learned the language when you were studying abroad some years ago.

It resided in a town of such a low population, blissfully around 600, it was a wonder you could even find a train that took you this far to begin with. Of course, that meant the house was decently rundown, with a community small enough to consider it unnecessary to repair. You couldn’t care less. All that meant to you was that it was cheaper to buy it outright than rent a more maintained structure. Buying it was a risky move, given your track record of up and ditching the last bed you slept on without any hindrance, but, at this point, you were tired.

You just wanted to be somewhere for longer than a month or two. Maybe owning a house was contrary to your desires to be unbound, with no board to pin your tattered and thin wings to, sure, the pros far outweighed the cons.

Cheap shelter, little to no people, far, far away from anywhere you’d been before. Three for three.

It’d still be a 45 minute drive or so before you actually got to your new residence, but you weren’t in any particular rush. You chose the most isolated place on purpose. Less people, less deafening sounds, less claustrophobic, brutalist structures that loomed higher and higher.

Less chance of being tied down.

With a hiss and a loggy wheeze, the train settled into place, jostling you as you got to your feet and stretched your arms above your head. The muscles in your back and shoulders twinged from sitting in the same position all day, and your legs stung like sparklers, but it was nice to work your joints properly again. After tucking away your phone and earbuds, you tugged your luggage down from the overhead rack with a grunt.

You were hopeful that there’d be taxis outside the station, and that you wouldn’t have to walk to the village. Who knows how long that would take. You’d probably keel over after the first mile. The thought made you snort while you squeezed down the aisle, suitcase with your bag stacked on it rolling behind you, purse strapped across your torso. The conductor – a sweet, older man – nodded silently to you as you disembarked, waving a farewell to you, which you returned. He was nice, you remembered him greeting you when you first boarded. 

He didn’t talk much, just a polite, “welcome aboard,” while the ticket collector pointed you in the direction of your cabin, which you greatly appreciated after hopping off a plane and hurrying your ass over to your required station. You were too spent for conversation.

Leaving the station was much easier than you expected. Unlike your home country, where you could get lost just by turning 45° to the left, Japan seemed to prefer neater environments that were easy to navigate. And, upon stepping out of the building, you rejoiced at spotting a few variously colored cabs waiting along the curb. Outside of one stood a man, roughly in his 50s or so, who waved you over.

“Need help getting somewhere, miss?” He questioned, and you nodded as you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your emails to find the one confirming your purchase of the listing. 

“Yeah, could you take me here?”

He glanced down at your screen when you showed him the address and chuckled quietly. “Well, that’s a surprise. Last time I visited that house was some twenty years ago to take the owner to the station, rather than from.”

You blanched nominally. Twenty years? Had your house really been abandoned for twenty years? The listing claimed it was only ten max, that estate bastard. A sigh left through your nose. Too late to deal with that now, you figured. “I just purchased it.”

The man nodded as he popped open the trunk and assisted you in slotting your luggage inside. “You look like you’ve come from far away. It’s rare for foreigners to choose to live in such a distant location. Not a fan of the city?”

I fucking hate cities.

“Something like that, yeah,” you assented, thanking him as he opened the back door for you. 

You appreciated his efficiency as he wasted no time dilly-dallying around. As soon as he was buckled up in the car, he was on the road, taking you down the last leg of your trip. The world outside the window streaked by in shades of violet and blood orange as the sun hovered on the edge of the skyline, reluctant to rest for the night.

“Ah, apologies. I’m Hayato Kazuhiko, you may call me Kazu, if you prefer,” he quickly introduced himself, and you followed suit. “Why’d you choose this little village of all places? It’s very small.”

You hummed. “That’s exactly why I chose it. I’m not a big…people-person, if you know what I mean.”

The older gentleman chuckled lightly. “My wife is the same,” he nodded as he peeked at you via the rearview mirror. “She had to visit the small town I used to live in one day, and it was love at first sight for us. She was immediately drawn to country life, and we’ve lived out in the neighboring town here ever since.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-five years,” he nodded, and you could see the pure love and devotion in his eyes as he spoke about his spouse. It was wholesome, and softened your heart a sliver. 

He was surprisingly relaxing to listen to. Pleasant voice that didn’t grate on your ears, a few stories shared about his wife, the occasional tale about some significant structure or location. It was calming, in an odd way. He’d point out a shrine or hiking trail you’d pass by, and offer to take you to them one day to teach you its history and meaning, and you actually considered it.

It could’ve been the harmless nature about him. Even as night descended and you could only really see his silhouette, inspecting him reminded you of your father, but…better, for lack of an accurate word. You weren’t afraid that he’d suddenly raise his voice, or take you down a suspicious road – or, hell, back to the train station to send your sorry ass right back to where you came from.

“Mr.–” you cut yourself off and cleared your throat, mildly embarrassed about slipping back into your mother tongue. Japanese honorifics were something you continued to struggle with. “Hayato-san, do you have children?”

He gave a mellow laugh and shook his head slightly. “Please, just Kazu is fine. And I do, three of them, in fact. A younger son, and twin girls about your age,” he estimated roughly.

So the fatherly air to him you picked up on wasn’t imagined. That brought you a form of reassurance you couldn’t distinctly name.

“My twin girls are all the way up in Tokyo,” he continued, chest puffed with pride, “and my son is still in highschool, causing chaos.”

“Chaos?” You raised a brow.

“Yes, but not the type you’d think,” he hummed. “He’s a gentle child, but his kind nature means he’s unfortunately quite gullible and gets himself into trouble.”

A voice, the faint echo of a memory long lost, intoned in the far reaches of your lucidity; someone shaming you for getting caught up in an issue that wasn’t even your fault. Your stomach twisted with dread, and your head snapped to peer at Hayato, expecting to find disappointment shining in his eyes when you studied them through the rear-view mirror.

Except, there wasn’t any.

Concern at most, a crease in his brow as he warred within himself between protecting and helping his kin, or letting the kid learn on his own. There wasn’t any disappointment, or anger, or exasperation. You could see him reminiscing as he stopped talking, focusing more on the twists that followed the mountain’s curve, and all you saw was just…love, and happiness.

The churning in your gut settled, instead replaced with a sense of hollowness. Not the kind that made you sick; rather, it was like you had a gap in your chest where a puzzle piece was missing, while his was filled with a perfectly fitted heart.

Bittersweet, possibly, but only distantly so. You felt happy for someone who was borderline a complete stranger to you, someone you shouldn’t even care about beyond tipping him well for driving you to the middle of nowhere in the dead of night, but you did anyway. 

Maybe I could have had that too, your thoughts mutedly supplied, if I was normal.

Then again, you didn’t want that, not really. Though you couldn’t tell if that was just who you were as a person, or a result of the coals perpetually under your feet, it didn’t change your mind.

Nothing could.

You were sure of it.

Smooth concrete eventually became a densely packed dirt road when Kazu turned off the main path, the car vibrating as the wheels rolled over loose stones and gravel. It didn’t last long, thankfully, as the shabby looking pile of wood came into view, albeit dark since the stars overhead were too dim to illuminate anything much.

“Where we are, miss,” he spoke as you both climbed out of the vehicle and met at the trunk. He opened it to retrieve your luggage, and you pulled your wallet out of your purse and counted off a few bills, wondering what the right amount to give to him would be.

It was hard to translate currency worth when things were valued differently in this country. Your trip abroad was a long time ago.

“Is this enough?” You peered up at him and held out the bills.

He took one glance at them and chuckled deeply. “That’s far too much, really,” he replied as he pulled only two of the strips out of the small stack you were holding. “Be careful with your money while you adjust to the currency of this country. Do you need assistance with your luggage?”

“Oh,” you analyzed the remaining money in your hands before tucking it back into your wallet. You really hoped he took the right amount needed and didn’t undersell himself. “No, I’ll be okay. You got me here in one piece, that’s all I could ask for.”

“Are you sure?”

Your head bobbed as you inspected your suitcase and bag, popping out the handle. “Yes, I am. Drive safe, Kazu-san. Thank you for taking me here.”

His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Please, it’s my job. You are pleasant company.”

“Likewise,” your lips rounded into a smile as you bowed politely. It was small, and you were tired, but it was genuine, the first one you’ve had for a long while. “Goodnight.”

Kazuhiko waved his hand in farewell, bidding you good dreams as he climbed back into the taxi and drove off, leaving you alone.

Your lungs deflated.

The air here was crisper, stinging your throat in a pleasant way as you inhaled slowly. Faint hints of pine and sap drifted across your senses. Nothing indicated any heavy stenches of smog or gasoline or gods know what litters the streets of every downtown city you’d been to before.

It would probably take you a while to get used to, and you oddly didn’t want to, if only so you could admire the fresh fragrance every time you stepped outside. Your muscles relaxed, surprising you as you hadn’t noticed just how tense you were until you were perched outside the front gate of your brand new (old) lodging.

Turning to face it, you groaned upon the realization that it was on a hill. Said hill was tiny, mind you, but a hill nonetheless. You found you couldn’t give much of a shit right now, just yearning to lay down and pass the fuck out for a while. Maybe the rest of tomorrow, too. A few weeks, actually, if you were allowed to choose. A coma sounded wonderful.

“Home sweet home,” you mumbled to nobody in particular as you pushed open the gate and virtually jumped out of your skin at the near shriek it gave. Okay, it had to have been longer than 20 years, that was loud. 

With your heart fluttering rapidly, you made a note to deal with it (and everything else) later and trudged up the incline, almost eating shit and dying when the toe of your boot caught on the edge of a stepping stone. Another thing to add to the “deal with later” list. You had a feeling it would just keep growing exponentially.

Finding the key was easy, for better and worse. It simply sat in the door knob’s lock, very safe and secure and definitely not putting your house at risk of…what?

There was nothing in there, evident when you pushed open the front door, which wailed just as loudly as the fence gate. You felt the blood drain from your face. Sure, the interior was empty, but the house was a wreck. Peeling walls, strange, crusty scent, and a sticky floor at the entrance that made you grimace when your sole pulled off it like velcro. You knew that it was custom in Japan to take off your shoes at the door, but fuck that. Absolutely not. You were not walking in any part of this house either in socks or barefoot.

Everything was virtually pitch black as you delved further in, so you depended on your other senses, and the ability to smell was one you wished you didn’t have. Your nose wrinkled as various rotting odors welcomed you, making you immediately regret going through all this.

Morning. You’d deal with it all in the morning.

Practically sneaking on your tip-toes, you explored the open space, trying to find the room that smelled the least and was passable to sleep in. Granted, there were really only two actual rooms down a hall going opposite of the kitchen besides the restroom and washroom, but the bigger one seemed decent.

At least you had a sleeping bag and wouldn’t be conking out on the bare floor. You went through the motions of prepping for bed mostly by habit, doing the bare minimum seeing as you didn’t have much of a choice. You brushed your teeth with the water from your tumbler, located and unrolled your sleeping bag, and climbed under the rustling top after yanking your shoes off, zipping it up as far as it went. 

Admittedly, the setup was kinda janky, but it got the job done. 

You couldn’t be bothered to change into pajamas.

With your head plopped on probably the least comfortable pillow you had found to bring with you (also the only one that would fit in with the rest of your shit, it was practically a pillowcase filled loosely with sporadically placed lumps of stuffing), you closed your eyes, and your body finally let sleep take over.

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

Morning was not pleasant. Surrounded by the musty scent of gods-know-what, back aching from the restless sleep you got from your pitiful sleeping bag and the hard floor, you were groggy beyond belief and desperate for fresh air. And a massage. And a cigarette.

You didn’t smoke, finding the heavy and pungent funk nauseating, but the temptation was there. You felt you gained a little more understanding of smokers.

Brushing the thought aside, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and rubbed the heel of your palm against the sore spot on the side of your skull. You would have believed someone replaced your pillow with a rock if you hadn’t intimately known that lump of fluff. Or, rather, lack thereof.

Red lines, tender to the touch and tingling a little, were pressed onto the arm you laid on for most of the time you slept, causing you to hiss when you traced your fingers against them. It seemed to be barely past dawn when you reviewed what was out your window, leaving you questioning just how long you slept, if at all.

Figuring you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep anyway, you shoved yourself out of ‘bed’ and groaned when every joint in your body popped and every bone creaked. Hell, you weren’t sure you’d be able to sleep tonight again. Not here, anyway. More problems for future you.

She’d certainly be happy about that. She already had so much shit to handle.

The growl of your stomach reminded you that food was something you needed to consume to continue living. 

Reluctant as you were to do anything, you figured going out by starvation was 1) probably not the best idea, and 2) you wanted to be out of this dingy torture shed.

What was unfortunate was that you, like a smart person, didn’t bring anything more than snack bars and those weird trail mixes with the fruit cubes that you just threw into your bag without much care. It was really the only motivation you needed to walk your sorry self out the door. 

After you brushed your teeth and changed your clothes, of course, being very careful to not let anything touch the floor.

Stepping out of your home through the shabby and creaky door with your purse slung across your chest, you were met with the grandiose sight of mountains surrounding you on every side. They rose high, aching to brush the sky and touch a star, just one, just once, just for a second. Covered in thick greenery, you figured the faint yet present scents of cedar, pine, and other woodsy tones were carried down into the valley from the steep inclines.

You couldn’t see any of these details nearly as well when you were dragging your tired ass to this place with ink covering the sky in a thick veil, but it truly was breathtaking.

Had nature always been this green before?

Having only done some cursory research on the village – namely, population – you didn’t bother giving yourself time to actually inspect photos of the tiny rural town. From what you’d seen anyway, pictures could never do it justice. A velvety breeze brushed against your cheek, prompting you to tuck your hair behind your ear and pivot towards the direction the gale came from.

Your breath left you in a silent ‘oh’, mesmerized by the incredible view of the rising sun you had. It shone valiantly and radiantly through the gaps it had carved out between the towering peaks itself, illuminating the land in shades of brilliant gold with its splendor.

For perhaps the first time in your life, you felt…nothing.

Not a sense of hollowness, nor a void in your chest, no.  A peaceful kind of nothing, as if not a thing in the world could take your mind away from this newfound elysium you found in sharing the morning’s shine with its source.

Invisible fingers caressed your jaw, threading through your hair with the gentle touch of adoration, as if you were delicate.

You hated to be treated like you were easily breakable, as fragile as glass, but this sensation was consoling, rather than degrading. The wind cherished you, not akin to a brittle figurine, rather as someone who was beautiful and worthy of gentleness unsullied by pity or licentious intentions. As if you were someone to be worshipped and revered.

A mother combing her fingers through her daughter’s hair, humming a lullaby only she knew the tune of.

Perhaps it wasn’t impossible to find what you were searching for. You didn’t know what it was exactly, a question without an answer, but it gave you a place to start.

With a deep breath swelling behind your ribcage, filling your soul with air untouched by sickly city pollution you were so accustomed to, you turned and began heading down the beaten dirt path that led into the heart of the village. The early summer warmth was pleasant on your skin, not too hot given the time. It seeped into your cold fingers and made them ache a little less with each minute going by.

While the town you had chosen was visually quite a bit older in style, with smaller structures dotted about reflecting traditional Japanese designs, there were some modernities. Electricity was, fortunately, one of them. 

Based on the fact that you found and bought the listing online, you figured there was likely a way for you to get your hands on some Wi-Fi here, too. You’d probably die without it.

The nearer you drew to the center of the population, the denser the structures became. Not to say they were rubbing walls, but neighbors were only a short few steps away, compared to the distance between your own house and the one closest to it.

Minka houses in significantly better condition than yours spanned either side of the road as the terrain shifted from soil to asphalt. They were beautiful, and you bet that living in that kind of house in this kind of place was either absurdly expensive, or dirt cheap, with no real in-between. You were personally on the latter end of this, which probably wasn’t a good thing. 

Doomed by the narrative once again.

Off in the distance on an elevated surface, you could see what you thought was a Wayo Kenchiku temple, if you had to guess. Its overlapping roofs were a deep green in shade, nearly black. They protected the desaturated brown walls of the building, and you were taken aback by how easy the temple was to see from where you were.

It sat across a wide river, one surprisingly calm as you approached it. It rushed along, springing with glimmering waves that shimmered under the light and frothed white around raised boulders. Despite it coming across as fairly deep, you could see clear through to the bottom, with the water itself being a refreshing shade of clear blue. A bridge spanned the rift, made of sturdy wood that had dark railings protecting either side of you, matching the aesthetic of your surroundings.

The bridge whined under your weight, but didn’t shift, giving you some reassurance that you wouldn’t go crashing through the planks. It led into the most packed section of the whole area, with structures built closer together, bearing a more modernized likeness, while retaining its unique characteristics.

In truth, though you remained apprehensive, the voice that scratched at the back of your skull everywhere you went and pestered you to run, run, run, had quieted. You hadn’t registered it, the silence, too focused on taking in your new surroundings as a serene blanket covered the thoughts that usually pranced wild and free in your cranium, putting them to rest with a whispered mercy:

This feels right.

It didn’t take you long to spot what you figured was the local grocery store. The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside, peering at what products you could see on the shelves and aisles from where you stood. Being an anxious little creature, you double-checked to make sure you had your wallet, as well as the translated bills within. Last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in a place where everybody knew everybody.

Reassured, you chose a random aisle and headed down it, skimming the products to see if any of them appeared even vaguely familiar to you. Besides cans of soup and tubes of Pringles, there wasn’t much for you to grab onto. Sure, there was ramen, but you didn’t have a way to boil water. Cereal and milk, maybe?

Shit, no, you didn’t have any cutlery or dinnerware. Unless you wanted to be a sad raccoon and eat raw cereal straight from the box, but you weren’t that desperate.

Yet.

Mentally crossing out your options as you went through them, you nearly knocked over an entire row of items when you almost ran into an older lady who stood in the middle of the strip, watching you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” You hopped back a foot, raising your hands in front of you placatingly. “I-I didn’t see you there, am I in your way?”

The woman laughed and shook her head, her smile reminding you of a grandmother that’d sneakily give her grandkids candies while their parents weren’t watching. “You’re quite alright, I was actually wondering if you need help?”

“Oh, uh…” Bashfully scratching the back of your head, you glanced at the various bags of foodstuffs beside you and debated your choices. Say no, when it was painfully obvious how green behind the ears you were, or set down your pride and ask for assistance.

Your stomach chose for you, warning you to suck it up and get food before it began eating itself.

The woman’s chuckle was heartier the second time around, her eyes glimmering with mirth as she motioned for you to follow her. Feeling a bit like a scolded child, you trailed after her while she wove her way around her store towards the produce section at the back. She pulled a random fruit from the thunder-rain-shelf-thing (you honestly had no idea what it was called) and rubbed it against her apron before handing it to you.

“Eat,” she insisted.

You blinked rapidly, peeping the fruit, the sign for it, then her. “How much…?”

The lady waved her free hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Eat, I insist.”

You were going to argue further, but a deep cramp in your gut had you sinking your teeth into the sweet and wonderfully-textured treat. As embarrassing as it was, you borderline moaned as you chewed, quickly taking another bite. Whatever it was, it tasted divine.

This time, when she directed you to move with her, you followed without hesitation. “Thank you so much,” you mumbled as she pulled out a chair from behind the counter and urged for you to sit on it.

“It’s nothing, I can’t let you go hungry, now,” she swept away your worries. “You’re new here,” she stated, rather than asked.

You nodded through another bite, waiting until you swallowed before continuing the conversation. “Yes, I got here last night.”

“Oh? Are you visiting someone?”

“No, I moved here.”

Her brows raised. “Really, now? Who are you staying with?”

Mid-bite, you stopped to address the matter. “Oh, no, I’m not living with anyone. I purchased the house just outside the village.”

The way her eyes widened was nearly comical. “That place? Now, that’s a surprise.”

If you had a nickel.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that now,” your lips tugged into a frown and you stifled it with another chomp into the sweet object in your hand.

At that, she simpered mutedly. “I apologize. I’m merely awed that it was still standing, let alone that someone had bought it. Last I heard, there hasn’t been anyone living there for, oh, maybe 20 years or so.”

The realtor, that dog. He did lie to you after all.

You scornfully hoped he was enjoying spending your money.

Picking at your cheek with your free hand, you looked away with a nervous giggle. “Yeah, it’s…not in great shape. I have a lot of work cut out for me.”

“You’re going to try to repair it?”

“Yeah. Keyword being try.”

“I’m not sure that’s a wise choice.”

You sighed. “Me neither, but I don’t have much of a choice now.”

The woman shook her head, smiling regardless. “You let me know what kind of help you need. There are plenty of handymen in this village of ours, I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

“Oh, that’s very nice of you, but…I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name,” you pouted, hurriedly introducing yourself.

“Just call me Granny. And I won’t take no for an answer, missy,” okay, now you really felt scolded. “I won’t stand for you trying to fix up that cluster of wood by yourself, it’s far too dangerous. And you shouldn’t be staying there while it’s in that condition, either. Give me a moment, let me find someone you can stay with.”

Panic rose up in you and you waved your hands frantically in front of you. “N-No! It’s fine, I’ll– I’ll figure something out, really, don’t worry. Please.”

Granny eyed you suspiciously, her hand hovering over the landline on the wall. “Are you sure?”

“Yes! It’s fine, I’m fine, I promise.”

Her eyes remained squinted, even as she lowered her arm. “Alright, if you say so. But if you need any kind of help, big or small, come to me right away, okay?”

Relieved you wouldn’t have to interact with more strangers, you nodded and deflated. “I will.”

“Promise me, young lady.”

“I promise.”

She grinned brightly and ruffled your hair. “That’s a good girl. Let me pack you a few things to take with you so you have something to eat.”

“Ah– wait, I…I’m not very good with currency yet,” you halted her sheepishly. The prices were still confusing as fuck to you. Man, how the fuck were you going to manage this when you get a job? If?

“Nonsense, it’s on me. I won’t charge you.”

Sorry, what? Did she do that for every person she met five minutes prior?

“But– but that’s not–”

“Finish up your peach,” she asserted as she was already walking away with a bag in her hands that wasn’t there a second ago. What was it with grannies and having some weird, innate magic?

Your eyes darted down at your half-eaten peach, surprised to learn that it wasn’t some foreign fruit you’d never even heard of before, let alone tried. It was an exceptional blend between succulent and rich; easy to bite into and chew without pouring juice all over yourself.

The fuck kind of peaches have you been eating before?

Sensing you might be buying these often if they were this good, you had well-nigh inhaled the rest of it by the time Granny came back with a stuffed bag.

“Here you go, dear,” she held out the shopping bag to you, which you took graciously after tossing out the peach pit into the small trash can by the counter.

Glancing into the bag, your lips shifted downwards. It was filled with a few different fruits and veggies, a couple bags of snacks, but mostly packaged food that looked like it could be eaten as is without needing to worry about cooking it. Your guilt skyrocketed. “Granny, this is too–”

“Don’t worry about paying. Save your money for the repairs of that home of yours.”

Your head shot up, eyes widening. “I can’t–”

“You can because I say so, young lady,” Granny puffed out her chest proudly, using a motherly tone that easily put you in your place, much to your bafflement. You didn’t even listen to your own mother like this. “Come back in the evening, I’ll have something cooked up for you.”

“You really don’t–”

She made brushing motions with her fingers, shooing you off the chair. “Off you go. There’s a lovely little pergola in the park, go have breakfast there. Just turn right when you leave and keep walking straight.”

Flustered, you let her push you along out the door, your confused brain trying to catch up. “Granny–”

“I’ll have a list of handymen for you when you return,” she informed you right as she managed to get you out the door. “Explore the town while there’s still daylight!”

And just like that, she was back in her store, sweeping with a broom that you swear materialized out of nowhere. You stared at the shop for a good minute, blinking dumbly until you processed whatever just happened.

You still weren’t wholly sure. You went in, expecting to grab a bag of something random to ‘feed’ yourself with, and left with a bag full of free food from a woman who spontaneously decided to give it to you. 

The fuck. She’d go bankrupt if she just kept giving strangers sustenance off her own back.

Your own feet seemed to carry you along as you exhaled through your nose and took her instructions to heart. Too late now, you’d feel bad if you went in and returned everything. It’d be insulting at this point, and you were hungry, anyway

A cooked meal did sound lovely as well, discomfited as you were. You had never met your own grandmothers – not in person at least, so you had no idea if grandmothers were simply like that or not. Regardless, you had a feeling she was going to fill that role in whether you liked it or not. 

Luckily, you were drifting towards like. She did give you free food, after all, and was going to find help for you. That part you were more apprehensive about, however, stubbornness and introversion making you want to be stupid and attempt to pick up carpentry out of nowhere.

All you could do was try to accept it and sigh, taking in the sights, stores, and dwellings as you walked past them and towards the park. A couple shops caught your eye, particularly a clothing boutique, and what could possibly be a hardware store. You weren’t certain, and didn’t want to find out yet. The prospect of entering one and facing the big ass sign that said ‘you don’t know what the hell you're doing!’ was too daunting to approach for now.

It didn’t take you long to get to the park. In fact, it was such a short walk that it bemused you. A population of 600 people seemed larger on paper than it was in reality. Most of the town was behind you, granted, but the uncanniness was uplifting, in a way.

It didn’t feel claustrophobic. The trees in the park were closer together than some of the buildings outside it, and they smelled so good that it knocked you back a step. The entire wild garden carried the fresh perfume of sweet and fresh vegetation, from blooming flowers scattered about and the grass underfoot, to the rustling leaves above. You couldn’t recall the last time you were in a park, let alone one that was as vibrant and alive as this one.

The pergola was easy to find. It resided in the center, right beside a large pond that you saw was filled with koi fish when you got close. 

They swam to-and-fro, carefree, intermingling, playing, and searching for food. 

Your stomach twisted when you made an unintentional connection in your mind. They reminded you of kites. Pretty, ultimately trapped.

The koi fish, however, didn’t seem to mind one bit. Not that you could understand fish language. They just went about their business calmly. It perplexed you, didn’t spending their lives in a single body of water bother them? Didn’t it make them depressed?

Could fish feel depression?

Shaking your head to rid it of the peculiar journey your mind had gone off on, you set the bag down on the table under the pergola and settled into one of the chairs, reaching to dig through your options. Of the items present, you opted to munch on a sandwich Granny had tossed in with everything else, bundled in saran wrap and clearly made by her.

While you were skeptical of pre-made food bought in a grocery store like this, one sniff had you biting into it ravenously. You were way hungrier than you thought as you devoured it, trying to will yourself to slow down enough to at least savor the taste of it. Your earlier guilt and trepidation disappeared three bites in, and you were now very much anticipating Granny’s handmade cooking if this was the kind of sandwich she was capable of creating.

You questioned again if all grannies were like this, or if you lucked out. Either way, if it meant you didn’t have to struggle with food for the time being (or ever, if Granny let you mooch off her forever), you didn’t mind getting spontaneously adopted by her at all.

About halfway through your meal, the koi fish in the pond caught your attention again. They were gorgeous animals, graceful and sleek with scales that twinkled iridescently when the sun flickered over them from between the gaps in the canopy above. They had you mesmerized, sights focused solely on them as they showed off.

Maybe they had managed to hypnotize you, because you decided to tear off a piece of the ham, rip it into tiny pieces, then throw it towards the pond. There was a large splash as all the fish rushed towards the food, making you snicker.

A sort of childish glee bloomed within you, persuading you to indulge them a smidgen longer before you finished off your food. The park seemed like a sacred place where nothing could touch you, where the lands would remain lavish and healthy, and where you could let all your worries fade away.

Arcadian – that was the best way you could describe it. Placid, halcyon, grounding, mellow. You could go on and on, really, but you–

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled when you sensed that someone, or something, was watching you. Heat grazed against your nape, slow, measured breaths right behind your ear. A kiss from a pair of soft lips that never reached your skin. A demanding presence wrapped around your figure, a prey caught in the trap laid out precisely by a steadfast and salivating predator.

Ghostly fingers slid down your shoulders, crept over your forearms, and encircled your wrists, holding them in place with a deceptively lax hold. Something firm and wide pressed against your shoulder blades, keeping you between it and the table.

Your heart kicked in your throat, preventing you from swallowing anything more than a tiny gasp.

And, like the cornered quarry you were, you shifted slowly to peek from the corner of your eye, avoiding any sudden or abrupt movements. You expected to find a beast hovering over your shoulder, eagerly anticipating your reaction. 

There was nothing. 

Only foliage greeted your wide-eyed inspection, expansive and untouched since you came here. The feeling of being hunted on had evaporated as soon as you checked, and though uncertain of this verdict, you chalked it up to being in totally unfamiliar territory. A result of a soundless, featherlight brush of wind, a critter in the foliage envying the fish you fed, lasting no more than a sigh.

Your brow furrowed as you searched through the plant life, seeing not even a hair out of the ordinary. That dovish sensation the park carried returned like it had never left to begin with, coaxing you to let it go and relax.

Maybe that was your cue to leave.

You shook off the lingering sensation with a shiver. Everything was okay in the wooded pasture, and as tranquil as your surroundings were, you knew you’d have to face the elephant in the room eventually.

You dusted yourself off as you got up to dislodge any lingering crumbs, carefully packed everything back into the bag, and took one final look around. This place would become your safe haven, you determined. Already, you were thinking of coming back, the memory of your adrenaline spiking fading rapidly. Imagining returning here gave you that minor push you need to fill your lungs with courage and turn to head back out the way you came.

You could explore the town later. Right now, you needed to address the state of your new stead and gauge what laid ahead of you first. Maybe it’d give you at least an idea of what you required to get started on all of this, though you doubted you’d come out of witnessing it in the full glory of the sun knowing more than you did now.

Absentmindedly, the milieu filtered into your subconscious, automatically noting small landmarks here and there to assist you in finding your way around the streets while they still confused you, until you had learned to traverse them and knew every path and alley like the back of your hand.

(Just in case, you assessed the back of your right hand. You know, to reacquaint yourself with it.)

Glumness overtook. You knew you probably wouldn’t stay here for too long, no matter how much you liked it. You could fix up the house, flip it, and head off someplace else again in pursuit of something that probably didn’t exist.

It’s always been this way for you. The same old pattern, the same old story, the neverending book that looped in on itself over and over, caught in a wormhole where the exit was the entrance.

So it was easy to convince yourself to not get attached to the valley, nor the people, nor that damn sticks-on-bricks abode. Not even the grass filled with flowers and protected by tall trees you had already found yourself longing for.

It was easier this way. This was all you knew, after all.

You had it all figured out.

Didn't you?

banner by cafekitsune ♥

[aemondwhoresworld]

AN IDEA FOR ANY WRITER/AUTHOR NEED IT

prince!aemond targaryen x noble!reader

warning: unrequited love, mention of being abandon, pregnancy, alys and aemond have a child together (son/daughter have dark hair), mention of alys, betrothed

mae: maybe if you write one base on this ideas please tag me to it cause i’d love to read it, also sorry about my grammar, english is not my native language

i have an angsty idea for Aemond Targaryen, tis will take place which Aemond and Alys secretly have a son/daughter together (you can decide how old this baby is) but the Targaryens are completely unaware to the existence of Alys as well as this baby.

And y/n is the youngest and only daughter of a noble family of the Waynwood family, both have been betrothed to each other since they were both very young and y/n has the ability to read minds someone else's sincerity (the reader is not a witch), so y/n soon learned of the existence of Alys and their child, even though she had been passionately in love with Aemond since the small meetings between the Targaryen family and the Waynwood family, but y/n still silently accepted her fate since she always wanted to fulfill her duty as a good wife to Aemond as well as become a part of the Targaryen family with some hope that Aemond would realize her feelings for him.

About 3 years have passed, everything for y/n becomes simpler and she gradually changes her lifestyle to be able to integrate into the place she calls her second home, which is also where her children will later live. But everything fell apart when Aemond, after some time arriving at Harrenhal, took Alys and their child to Kings Landing, and declared that Alys and their child would from now on live in Kings Landing. Everything happened so fast, and she decided to quietly leave Kings Landing with the twins she was carrying the night everything happened (she knows that she is with child, and planning on to tell Aemond the night he brought Alys and their child to KL), y/n did not tell anyone know even her family (there is only her maid who knows about y/n's current situation). Y/n then migrate to a remote area (like a small rural area, where no one knows her identity).

The scene is set about 1 year after y/n gives birth to twins, her children have this blonde white hair like Aemond. When the people in the village saw these kids with strange colored hair, they were very surprised and started spreading rumors about these kids being witches, and of course rumors spread to Kings Landing and Since then King Aegon (who y/n gets really close with since the day she married to Aemond, live in a cold marriages) sent people to the village where y/n lived to bring her back to the right place where y/n belonged.

this could be an angsty one with a happy ending (actually any ending you decide is fine but i love it when aemond would beg the forgiveness from y/n, hehe), of course this will not be all of it, if you need anymore of the details please let me know 🥹. btw this idea originally is for jacaerys but i think it’s more fit for aemond

[captainfantasticalright]

Another Sir Terry Pratchett interview on the details of writing Good Omens with Neil Gaiman. (More about this process x).

Question about how he goes about collaborating with someone else .

Terry: “You make them do what you want”.

Gary Cornell came up with something very apposite talking about working together, he says : It’s not that (each) of you does 50% of the work, each of you does 90% of the work.

Um. The way we did it then, and I can’t really speak as an expert because it's the only time I’ve ever done it and other people do it in different ways, it wasn’t a case of, the way the Americans tend to do it, um, is one person writes a draft and the other person goes in and noodles with that draft. We did the whole thing from the ground up; each was doing bits. The ad hoc way we had of working, it’s simple: I’ve got a track record writing novels, Neil hadn’t. So I became like the editor, the taskmaster. Because the other thing is the practical problem about two people 120 miles apart doing something, is that, um, it would be different now, but in those days we had no reliable means of electronic communication. We could connect computers together with modems and then spend the whole evening at cross purpose and ringing each other up and saying “I’m getting lots of little faces and shit like that all over..”

Three quarters of an hour and about eight phone calls, you actually managed to transmit about 2000 words you could have actually phoned and sneezed in a morse code.

[w]hen we were doing the first draft of the film script, we were both members of CompuServe so crappy our BT rural lines that the quick efficient way was for me to go into CompuServe and leave the work I’d done in Neil’s mailbox on the computer in Ohio or someplace and later that evening he would dial CompuServe in America and download it from Ohio or wherever it was.

So in order to get the script 120 miles, electronically it was doing about 10000. This is from the global village.

What we would do is I would hold the master copy and sometimes work would have to stop for 24 hours because stuff was in the post, because the nightmare, the absolute nightmare which I knew would happen if we let it, was that somehow we’d end up with two master copies in existence with little, minute changes, and we’d never be able to spot which was which.

So the last thing we wanted was two master copies, and we worked on the phone who did what. I did a bit more than Neil, of that anyway. But, it also felt to me to be an awful lot of the glue that no one wanted to do because it was easy to do set piece scenes and written on a kind of, on the kind of plot somewhere you get A and B to F and X and Y across to C T. And that really is like 3000 words where you have to move people around and then,you know, shove extra bits in; so I ended up probably doing near 75% of the book.

I would probably say because it’s, because had we’ve done it any other way it would’ve been like three months longer to do.

Also part of the process from another interview with Terry Pratchett:

Q: Let's talk a bit about the book you collaborated with Neil Gaiman on: Good Omens. That was before email, so how did it work on a practical basis? What was the most challenging aspect of writing with someone else?

I'm sure what I have to say will echo what Neil has said. When two people work on a book, it isn't a case where each one does 50% of the work. Each one does 100% of the work. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are mine. There are some bits in Good Omens which I know are Neil's. There are some bits which were Neil's idea which I wrote, and there are some bits which were my idea which Neil wrote. Some bits we no longer know exactly whose ideas they were, or who wrote them. By the time we'd gone through all the drafts, it had been written by some sort of composite entity. We wrote it in the 14th century. We each had one phone line and a 1200 baud modem. We'd work it out: "OK, you send, I'll receive." Sometimes it would take 20 minutes to half an hour before we could send the stuff. It would have been cheaper and easier to have rung each other up and sneezed out the text in Morse Code. I was the Keeper of the Disks. I insisted that there should only be one official version in existence at any time. The moment it split into two, we would be in dead trouble. But Neil would sometimes send me a disk with 2000 words, saying " This is the scene with so and so -- insert it here." It more or less worked. It took us about six weeks to do the first draft. I think it worked because, at the time, we were each making a name for ourselves in our respective fields. It's not that we didn't take it seriously. But we were relaxed. We thought we would earn some holiday money by doing it. The nice thing about collaborating is that there is one other person in the world who is thinking about the exact same thing that you are thinking about. We both have a similar reading background, I suppose. It was quite rare when one of us came up with something that the other guy didn't know about. So we could bounce ideas off one another quite easily.

[rabbiteclair]

Some differences between modern self-reported supernatural encounters from America vs. Japan, based on my general observations from perusing hundreds of each.

(disclaimer: thanks to the language barrier and all, this is kinda by necessity comparing American stuff from a pretty wide array of sources vs. Japanese stuff that's been put into text on the internet. And then both sets mostly reach me through curators with their own agendas. So don't consider this a 100% representative sample or anything.)

American stuff semi-regularly gets into 'I know it wasn't sleep paralysis and here's why' vs. Japanese stuff seems to have mostly settled on 'sleep paralysis is, itself, a symptom of paranormal things.'

Japanese has the very handy concept of reikan, whereas the idea that only some people can see most ghosts exists in the American side, but is far less prevalent.

The American side absolutely loves UFOs and cryptids, whereas Japan barely touches the former and goes pretty light on the latter.

Meanwhile, ghosts from self-reported American stuff rarely get scarier than 'yeah it moved some stuff around and I saw a bloody guy in the mirror' whereas Japan will readily go into 'here is a list of my friends who got murdered by this ghost, and I'm next.'

The type of people who write American ones seem to be much more willing to talk about, or simply more involved with, alt spirituality stuff, so you're way more likely to get 'and the ghost didn't go away even after I did a cleansing ceremony with my crystals' or whatever.

Similarly, American ones are much more likely to end with roughly 'and it's bullshit that the government/religion/skeptics/whatever are hiding this from us.'

On the other hand, going to monks/priests is practically a staple on the Japanese side, but surprisingly few (modern) American stories seem to involve pulling in a priest at any point.

The Shinto influence on the Japanese side manifests in lots of stories involving 'let me tell you about the weird kami that was enshrined in my hometown' vs. that basically not being a thing on the American side.

'Rural villages are creepy' is basically a whole subgenre in Japan, really, and I can't really name any setting for the American stuff that's quite as prominent.

It might just be up to the fact that the American side uses more of the other categories to begin with, but I feel like there's a lot more 'maybe cryptids are actually aliens and ghosts are just psychic phenomena that manifest around aliens' kinda syncretism there.