#wouldn't it just be easier to not have a reveal at all so you don't have to juggle all that

[pa-pa-plasma]

Oh. it just clicked why so many newer vivisection fics (including ones that happen offscreen) bother me. it's because they always happen post-reveal, where Maddie & Jack know that it's Danny & are doing it anyways (out of character). older ones (like. the ones that got the trend going) always had the reveal happen either during the vivisection for max angst or after if the author leaned more towards a chaptered fic with character & emotional development (all in character). Hm

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[darkpoisonouslove]

She just learned today who stole her baby. Let her process, goddammit!

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

HEYYYY! loved your alastor fanfic! since your taking requests, could i get a human alastor x wifey where he comes home after killing someone and she cleans him up? make it really sweet because he’s totally into it pleasee!!!!! thanks youu~~

Taking care - Part One - human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

Hello, anon! Thank you so much for your sweet request <3

Before we dive in, I have a few announcements to make. First, I’m not sure when the next update for the "Out of Darkness" fanfic will be. I’ve been dealing with some overwhelming events in my life recently, which has made it difficult to find the inspiration to write a full chapter. However, I’m hoping to post an update sometime this week.

Second, I’m uncertain about how to handle the taglist for my "Out of Darkness" work. If you’re on that taglist, please let me know if you’d like to be notified about all my Hazbin Hotel posts or just the "Out of Darkness" fanfic. You can let me know in the comments, via DM, or, for an easier and safer option, by filling out the Taglist Google Form)

With that said, I hope you enjoy this post <3

Words: ~2050 TW: mentions of blood and fluff

Coming to terms with who Alastor truly was hasn’t been easy. The night he took you to the basement and revealed his latest victim has lingered in your nightmares ever since.

But if it was for him, he wouldn't have shown you. He didn't want you to enter this world full of violence. Still, it was better than the countless arguments whenever he would come home late at night, acting strange, not knowing how to answer your questions. In fact, he did it because he felt insulted by your accusations - him, who would kill for you, accused of cheating. Pathetic.

That night, he was waiting for you to run, to tell the police, even preparing for the painful scenario in which he'd have to kill you. But you didn't. He couldn’t fathom why you chose to stay, but he would lie if he said he wasn't relieved.

But you did tell him you don't want to know - You didn't want to know who he killed or why. You didn't need that and he respected it.

Alastor did everything in his power to shield you from this part of his world, attempting to protect you from the brutal realities he faced. So whenever he would come home, full of blood, adrenaline rushing through his veins, he would try his best to hide from you.

Usually, when your husband came home, he would make his presence known: humming his favourite songs as he enters the house or immediately telling you about his day, followed by a kiss on your wrist or cheek.

But whenever someone died at his hands, the night would be silent. The way he locked the door behind him ever so slightly or the way he would make his way to the bathroom in the darkness of the house, almost like a cat - that's when you knew to stay away. When you knew not to ask about his day. It's when you knew it was better to just continue preparing the dinner in silence or just fall back asleep, depending on the time, waiting for him to get ready and return to his everyday demeanour. This way, it became easier for you to deal with it.

Tonight was different though.

Alastor burst through the door, a rare sight of raw distress evident in his heavy, laboured breaths. It was clear something had gone terribly wrong. In a rush of adrenaline, you jumped out of bed, rushing to your husband.

"Dear, don't come here, please..." you heard him saying, hissing in pain as he tried to close the door. But you didn't listen. You peeked in the entryway, seeing him sliding down against the door, falling on his knees.

"Love?" you asked, cautiously stepping towards him. "What happened?" You turned on a lamp next to you, your eyes widening at the sight.

Alastor looked up at you with tired eyes, showing the signs of recent violence. His suit was torn in various spots, and his face was swollen and bruised.

"Ah... I didn't want you to see me like this, love," he said, his voice hoarse from pain. He tried to smile, but the effort was half-hearted. He looked down at himself, taking in the state of his battered body.

You got closer, trying your best to help him get up. Alastor stumbled forward, leaning heavily on you as you attempted to support his weight. He let out a pained grunt as you struggled to keep him upright. "Careful, love... I'm not as light as I look," he tried to joke, his breath laboured.

"What happened to you?" you asked, carrying him to the couch, trying your best not to fall. Alastor winced in pain, his body feeling heavier with each step.

"Ah... Just a run-in with some trouble," he replied through gritted teeth. "But I'm alright, love. Don't worry about me too much."

You carefully guided him to the couch, your hands trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his shirt. Beneath the fabric, his body was full of bruises and wounds, each one a stark reminder of the night’s violence. You brushed your hand along his chest, your heart clenching at the sight.

"Who did this, Al?" you asked.

He winced as your fingers grazed over the bruised and battered skin of his chest, the pain still fresh. He attempted to keep his smile, trying to reassure you, but you could see right through his facade.

"It's nothing, really... just a few bumps and bruises," he muttered, his voice strained. "Nothing to fuss about, love."

You started to take off the rest of his clothes, taking advantage of the fact that he was too tired to argue with you. He grumbled under his breath. He had always despised showing weakness, and being cared for like this made him feel vulnerable, a feeling he wasn't used to.

"Love, I don't need your help... I can take care of myself," he insisted, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

"You can't. We need to clean these." Alastor huffed in annoyance but didn't protest further. He knew that when you used that tone, there was no arguing with you.

"Fine, fine... Do as you like," he grumbled, reluctantly submitting to your care.

You made your way to the bathroom, the warm water filling the bathtub. You jumped when Alastor appeared behind you, leaning against the wall, the pain written all over his face.

"You should've waited for me to help you!" you protested.

"Ah, come now love, you worry too much. I'm not made of glass," he said, trying to shrug off your worry. He walked past you, slowly getting into the bathtub. He hissed through clenched teeth as the warm water enveloped his battered body, the stinging sensation intensifying as it touched his open wounds.

You kneeled next to him, Alastor letting out a deep sigh as your hands caressed his battered flesh, the pain mixing with a strange sense of relief. He closed his eyes shut, leaning back against the tub, silently enjoying your care.

"They tried to fight back, didn't they?" you eventually asked, your words coming out no louder than a whisper. You had to admit that a part of you grew more curious with every arrival of his: did they fight? did they beg him to stop? Sometimes it made you think if you were just as twisted as him for not being more disturbed by the whole situation.

Alastor's body tensed slightly at your question, his muscles aching. He knew the question would eventually come, and he had hoped you wouldn't ask. But he knew he couldn't lie to you, no matter how much he wanted to keep you away from the darker sides of his life.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice low. "They always do."

You started cleaning the bleeding wounds, your mind still wandering at what could've happened that night: why did he kill them? how did he do it?

“Do they… suffer?” you asked quietly, a shiver of dread coursing through you as you thought about the pain endured by those he faced.

Alastor’s gaze met yours, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He understood your curiosity, but the truth was too grim to reveal, and he was torn between honesty and the need to shield you. But you were stubborn, and he knew you wouldn't let it go that easy.

"No," he said after a few moments, his voice steady. "They don't suffer." It was a lie. But it was the only answer he could give you to keep the truth hidden.

You reached for the shampoo bottle, poured some into your palms and started scrubbing his scalp. Alastor let out another hiss of pain as you rubbed the shampoo, the knots and blood making the process more painful. He tried to keep his face passive, hiding his discomfort from you.

"Careful, love... You're pulling too hard," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry... I need to take the blood out. It's really dried up."

Alastor grumbled under his breath as you continued to wash his hair, a mix of frustration and discomfort etched on his face.

"It's fine," he finally said, forcing himself to relax a little. "Just... try to be a bit more gentle, will you?"

You nodded, your hands rubbing more gentle as the water became red. Alastor leaned back against the tub, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. The pain began to fade, replaced by a strange sense of comfort. He closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

"Love...," he muttered softly, his voice weary. "You don't have to do this, you know. I could manage on my own."

"It's not a crime to let me help you sometimes, you know?"

Alastor chuckled weakly, his usual cockiness returning, if only slightly. "Ah, stubborn as always," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of affection. "You never back down, do you, love?"

You ignored his question, your eyes never leaving the wounds. "Did this happen... before?"

Alastor's eyes darted to yours for a moment before looking away. The truth was, he had had many run-ins before where he had to defend himself. But he had never been this badly injured before.

"Once or twice," he finally answered, his voice low.

You looked at him, your heart hurting at the thought. You hated seeing him in pain, you hated the thought that on those many nights, he was here alone, taking care of his wounds, trying to hide from you.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Alastor leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a moment, the truth catching in his throat. "I didn't want you to worry," he finally admitted, his voice soft. "I know it bothers you when I come home late, when I'm quiet or when I try to hide from you. But I didn't want you to see more of... this. I didn't want to scare you off."

You wrapped your hands around him, resting your face against his bruised neck. For a moment, his body stiffened, but he slowly relaxed into your warmth, finding solace in your touch. "I know I said I don't need to know... that I don't care who you kill or why. But I do care about you, Al! And seeing you like this..." Your words, spoken with such sincerity, hit him deep and stirred something within him

"I... I didn't want to hurt you," he said, his voice catching in his throat. "I just... I wanted to keep you out of this... To keep you safe."

“If you want to keep me safe, then you need to be safe too,” you said, your voice firm with concern.

Alastor chuckled weakly, his lips curving into a wry smile.

"You and your logic," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You always find a way, don't you, love?" His hand squeezed yours in a gentle, yet firm grip, as if silently pleading you not to let go.

"But I gotta admit... I kind of like taking care of you like this," you said, a small smirk on your face.

Alastor chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Is that so, love?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, if I'm being honest... I could get used to it too."

“As long as you promise to cook jambalaya for me at least once a week,” you teased with a small, relieved smile.

Alastor let out a mock sigh, feigning reluctance. "Ah, you drive a hard bargain, love. But I suppose I can live with that." He chuckled, his eyes holding a hint of warmth and affection.

"Al..." you said, a hint of worryness in your voice. "Please, don't die..."

Alastor's face instantly softened at your words. Your worry tugged at his heartstrings, and he knew he had no choice but to reassure you. He took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

"I can't promise I'll always come home unscathed, love," he admitted, his voice sincere. "But I can promise you this... I'll do everything in my power to come back to you. I always will."

Tags: @ratsematary

[hikarry]

I'm not really on the team that swears to Jesus and beyond that Crowley lost his memories after the Fall. Yes, of course, he forgot some stuff because, ya know, he has been alive for more than 6000 years and if I don't remember what I ate for lunch yesterday, Satan knows he won't remember every single second of his life, but he remembers the important things

"Ah, but what about him not remembering fighting alongside FurFur or building the thingy with Saraqael?"

Love, I give you two options:

Those are either some of the stuff he didn't consider important enough to remember OR he is just straight up fucking with them. He does remember, but why reveal it if playing dumb sometimes is good in the long run? Might be useful

Alas, I don't know, but I will die on the hill that he does remember

Which means he most probably remembers meeting Aziraphale. Not because Aziraphale was "important" at the time per se, or because it was love at first sight (because it wasnt, not for him. Bro was so focused on the nebula he didnt even introduce himself when Aziraphale did. He threw him a "Right. Nice to meet ya. Anyway, nebula time!"), but because he was there when Crowley created the nebula and, as he said, he had been waiting for that moment since "well, always". It's an important moment for him, so he remembers. Aziraphale just so happened to be present

I don't know if that was the only interaction they had in Heaven or not (and that's not the point I'm trying to get to so I will ignore that problem for a later post, maybe), but when the now Demon Crawley was sent up to the Garden, he did remember Aziraphale. That's why he approached him

Cmon, Crowley isn't stupid. Of course he wouldn't approach an angel on the wall just willy nilly and make conversation. He didn't know Aziraphale had given away the flaming sword yet. Just approaching an angel from behind and morph into a demon next to him out of nowhere could be a death sentence. Or at least an A Line for a good smitting

Yet, he did it. He had at least 3 other angels to choose from but he approached the angel that he remembered from back in the beginning that was kind enough to help him with the engine of the nebula. Hell! I even bet this was not the first time they saw each other in the Garden!

Bet they've seen and observed each other from afar a few times while they interacted with the humans (yes, cause I believe Crawley, before tempting Eve, tried to gain her trust. It's easier to listen to a friend than a random snake) or just around the Garden really.

That's why Aziraphale didn't get surprised when Crawley showed up at the wall, because he knew the demon snake had been around the Garden for a while. He probably even recognized him as the former Star Maker and hoped he was still a little bit of his old self so he allowed himself to engage in conversation

Anyhow, another clue? This:

He remembers how Heaven works. He remembers he was a high ranking angel. Satan, he remembers the bloody passwords!

Do you know what else he remembers?

Cause they didn't throw that line in there for nothing. No, gents. Cmon. Nothing is random in Good Omens

He knows who he was. He remembers being the Star Maker that hung the stars in the sky

He remembers why he fell, for goodness sake

And the fact that he remembers everything makes all of it so much more tragic, doesn't it? He remembers his life before the Fall, his supposed friends that dragged him into the pit with them, what Her love felt like, the "mistakes" he made that led to his Fall

And it must have hurt. It must have hurt so much when he found himself in a pit of boiling sulfur with his wings completely burned and without Her love because he remembered it all. He must have been so bloody confused for so long

He might have regretted it. All the questions and the company he kept that made him Fall. But he doesn't anymore.

He knows he doesn't need Heaven, he doesn't need Hell. They are toxic. All he needs is his pacific fragile existence on Earth with Aziraphale and yet...well, that's something else he won't forget now, is it?

*clears throat*

I rest my case

[dystopyx-blog]

So this is a thought I had after the unmedicated post, but what if ya had chronic pain? Like my good days are constant emergency levels for someone else, and on the bad days I just don't function or function by acting really bitchy. Like, imagine the sweet or chill prefect suddenly being a complete asshole then someone (probably Rook) reveals it's because their meds completely left their system.

Yes!! This kinda works with the post that inspired the unmedicated fic, which you can check out here.

I raise you this though: imagine the yandere bois tm finding out the sweet/kind/chill/patient ramshackle suffers so much all the time.

I can imagine Floyd not even fully squeezing you and you yelp out in pain just from that. You play it off as best as you can, but Jade's curiosity is piqued.

You probably tell your freshman besties first, but everyone will quickly learn from there. I mean, Sebek will absolutely tell Malleus and Epel will end up telling Vil.

The information gets to Jade and Floyd, who take it to Azul.

Deuce ends up spilling it to Riddle one time while trying to defend you. Ace will then blab to you about how Deuce messed up.

Its a whole mess

But now everyone knows about your chronic pain, and all of a sudden everyone's treating you like you're glass.

Even the ones you wouldn't imagine!! Like you'd think Leona would be Mr. Tough Love "Go walk it off." But no. He's still an asshole about the whole thing, but he's a condescending asshole, always telling you you can't do shit by yourself so let him handle it. Or at least let Ruggie handle it. He doesn't understand why you try so fucking hard, you have a great excuse to just relax. So he forces you to.

Everyone is kind of like this, with varying degrees of affection and subtleties.

Riddle is also very rood about it, yelling at you to just stand still.

Azul is more subtle, always creating illusions of choice, making you think you have options, when you don't. Tricking you into taking easier paths while you think you're roughing it.

Jamil basically treats you like he does Kailm. Which, if you're like me, makes you feel bad. But even just the fact you feel bad reminds him why he prefers you over Kalim 1009000%. He wishes you'd stop fussing and let him take care of you.

Vil is also fairly patronizing while he dotes on you. He treats you like a doll, dressing you up and styling you, because with your fragile little bones this is kinda the best thing for you. And he also really doesn't understand why you won't just sit down and let him love you.

If you're sensing a pattern, you are correct. No one fucking understands why you won't just fucking relax and let everyone take care of everything for you.

Idia sees your chronic pain as the PERFECT excuse to never have to go somewhere in person and yet??? You keep going out in person??? Bro, just stay with him, then you BOTH have an excuse to just fucking chill in his room while a floating iPad handles all your school problems.

Finally, Malleus. Awwww, you're so cute, trying so hard. But also he feels so hurt everytime you try to do something without him. To him, your chronic pain is the invitation for him. It's your very body crying out to him for comfort. And Malleus never turns down an invitation.

[bun-z-bakery]

A/N: heres a little something extra too ;3

DogDay x reader

CW: suggestive

Bath Day

You were off from work today, which usually means it's your day to relax with your little family or struggling to take the bigger members a bath.

Today just so happened to be the latter, and boy were they in for the surprise.

The four of you had just finished eating lunch and dogday was on dish duty today. But you just happened to be a bit too quiet.

"Angel? Are you ok?"

He calls out for you but he doesn't get a response.

Once he's done he's off to find you. You're not in the common areas so his way over to your shared room.

"Angel?"

He opens the door, revealing you behind it.

"Hey!"

You walk up to him, giving him a hug

"Guess what today is!~"

You sang as he hugged you back, you felt him freeze in place.

"But I washed dishes! Please, Angel"

He whines as you take his hand, reluctantly following you to the bathroom that's been prepared for the soon-to-be fight he would put up.

"I don't think I need a bath just ye–"

"Someone thought it would be fun to play outside in the mud while I was away"

He stands at the door while you check the water temperature and gather what you need.

"So now here we are! Plus kissy needs a bath too but you take me a while."

You laugh, using the bathing brush to point at him.

He sighs and makes his way in, he loves you he really does but he hates baths. Getting soaked made him a bit heavier, and drying off was a pain. He knows he has to though, even he admits that he smells.

"Come on the water feels nice!"

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, he stares at you confused for a second.

"Angel! What are you doing?!"

Your clothes were now on the floor as you sat in the water, you wore an orange bathing suit with little dogs on it.

Adorable

He thought to himself as he walks closer.

"Well I figured this might make things a little bit easier for you"

You smile at him, and motion for him to sit.

He makes his way into the tub, his tail wags happily splashing some water on the floor. You didn't care, not only was he happy, but you were happy too. Who knew he'd enjoy bubbles when he wasn't whining all the time?

"Stay still!"

You playfully shout as you attempt to wash the giant dog, squirming in the tub.

"Angel that tickles!"

He laughs out, splashing you with more water.

At this point, you were both soaked from head to toe, so was the floor... and everything else but you'll deal with that later.

Later on in the day

You finished giving Kissy her bath and helped Poppy brush her hair.

Exhausted was an understatement, but you wouldn't have it any other way, you loved seeing them happy and of course, smelling nice.

"Guys, dinners almost done!"

You call out to everyone as you cut some vegetables.

Suddenly, a pair of giant hands grab onto your waist, making you jump.

"Dogday! I could've hurt you!"

You warn as you put the knife down, he doesn't let go, he takes his chance and leans down to your ear.

"Thank you, Angel~"

You gasp as he pulls you closer

"For what, exactly?"

He peppers your cheek with kisses, his tail wags viciously.

"The bath, I had fun!"

You hum in response as you try to cover your now burning-hot face.

"How about next time you don't wear an–"

"Smells good, Y/N!"

Poppy yells out as she and Kissy make their way down the stairs, you try to get out of Dogdays grip but he squeezes you before letting you go, and leans against the counter acting like nothing happened.

Kissy and Poppy poke their heads into the kitchen, you refuse to look at them.

"I thought you said you were almost done?"

She asks, sounding a bit disappointed.

You go back to cutting the vegetables

"Y-yeah I just had to quickly deal with something!"

You nervously chuckle

"All right! We'll watch some TV then!"

You nod in response, once they leave you side eye Dogday.

"What? I did nothing wrong my sweet Angel~"

He teases, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders smugly.

"The couch tonight."

You attempt to say coldly, trying to hide the smile on your face.

"You seem to be forgetting something, Angel"

"Oh and what's that?"

You laugh

"You seem to have forgotten who you belong to, hm?"

He leans to your ear once again

"Maybe you need a reminder~"

He purrs into your ear, running his fingers down the side of your neck.

Yeah, maybe you should call out of work tomorrow.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 23

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 22, Part 24

Warning! This is a SAGAU imposter au so this is pretty gory and not happy all the time. Plus yandere but that's the expected for SAGAU.

Xingqiu and Chongyun both showed muddled emotions at your words of leaving Liyue.

“That may be best for you…” Chongyun says first as he keeps his gaze on the floorboards.

“Yes, I agree. Although I never expected that you would have to leave Liyue so soon, it's clear that you aren't safe here.” 

Xingqiu’s words that were full of understanding still had disappointment sprinkled in.

“We can't do much to help you when it comes to Ningguang, but Mondstadt is a different story. Do you have the talisman on you right now?”

Chongyun takes a few steps closer as you lift the amulet for him to see. He rubs one finger on it, examining the symbol that appears at the action.

“It's still at full charge, good. The road to Mondstadt can either be empty or full of demons depending on the day. But once you get to Wangshu Inn, it becomes much safer.”

“Because of Xiao, right? Despite how the situation looked when I first met the Adepti, I'm on relatively good terms with them now.”

It was a bit risky telling them this, but they both deserved to know at this point.

“When are you planning on leaving? Is your meeting with Ningguang today?” Switching the topic, Xingqiu brings the focus back to the most pressing issue.

Nodding, you answer. “My meeting is with her today, but I'll probably have to leave either at midnight or early tomorrow morning. The sooner, the better.”

“Then I can offer you some help that should make staying in Mondstadt a bit easier.” Xingqiu grins as he takes out paper and some ink. “I happen to know someone-”

“Albedo, right?” Cutting off Xingqiu as you think back to his connection, you continue. “Together you made the book, uh what was the name again? A Legend of a Sword? It got pretty popular in Inazuma. I remember there was a whole festival on light novels that you both attended too.”

Once you stop, you notice Xingqiu squinting his eyes at you before replying. “That's really creepy, you know? If I didn't know you were the Oracle, then I would have believed you to be some stalker.”

“If I was, then I wouldn't be stalking you of all people.” You snapped back as he grins while shaking his head.

“But yes, I'll send Albedo a letter in advance so that he can arrange for you to be settled nicely over there. I won't mention the Oracle situation as the Creator didn't want you to be known widely like that.”

It's been so long since you last heard the title ‘Creator’ be mentioned despite the fact that all of your problems come from their supposed existence.

Only goes to show just how ingrained the Creator is in this world.

“Thanks Xingqiu. Albedo is the chief alchemist and well respected among the community, so I should be in safe hands.”

Xingqiu merely hums in response as Chongyun tugs the amulet closer to him.

“Just trying to apply a better talisman on it.” He mumbles in accordance with your stare as he settles himself closer to you.

He's basically pressed against your side, but you strangely don't feel uncomfortable to have him close.

As the pair focus on their own activities, your mind wanders off to Albedo.

Albedo, the chief alchemist and homunculus created by Gold, the famous Khaenri'an scientist. Khaenri'ah, which also held so much information that could be connected to Celestia…

It was a long shot, but you could try digging for information about Celestia from him. The deal that Celestia made with Teyvat still bothers you to no end. With the age of this deal unknown, you might even have to look into the primordial dragons if it's even older than the Archon war.

A light shining brought you back to the present and your eyes flickered down to where the amulet shined in Chongyun’s hands.

Once it died down to reveal a more intricate symbol than before, Chongyun nodded, satisfied with the final product.

“This one is a lot stronger and should last longer now. I know you can fight well, but the demonic energy in Bishui Plain and Qiongji Estuary has shown to rise around this time of the year.”

Carefully taking the amulet from him, you thumbed the symbol with curious eyes. “I get it, thank you. Does it activate on its own, or do I have to activate it with something?”

“It'll work on its own. Depending on the amount and degree of demonic energy around it, the workings will change.”

Motioning with his hands, Chongyun’s calm voice explains the working to you. At the end of the rather lengthy explanation, you nod and condense the information in your mind.

“And now that Instructor Chongyun is done teaching you, I'm happy to say that I'm done with the letter. Have been for a while, but I saw no need to interrupt the oh so fascinating lecture.”

Raising the letter, Xingqiu lazily waved it as Chongyun bristled but ultimately said nothing.

“I can send this once I get home. Unfortunately, neither me nor Chongyun will be available to accompany you through your journey.”

Xingqiu tsk’d at his own words while Chongyun turned his head away, visibly sulking.

“My family was just hired to check out Wuwang Hill and my attendance for this is mandatory. Xingqiu’s father is forcing him to stay and attend meetings with his brother for the week as well.”

All you could do was smile sadly in response.

Before long they were both forced to leave by Baizhu who insisted on total privacy for the reviewing of your medication and discharge.

Watching them climb down the stairs from the window in your room, you listen absentmindedly to Baizhu.

Changsheng still refused to see you. Something Tevyat was clearly displeased with, as the once sunny weather quickly turned cloudy. The cold-blooded creature must be huffing in annoyance by now.

“And this is the overview of medication and supplements to take, with the doses and dates to take them.”

Casually looking over the paper received from the shady snake bastard, you hummed for a moment before stuffing it into your bag.

“All of it is paid for by your special benefactor. And the drug you requested has already been paid with by your body, as we both know.”

‘Must he phrase it like that?’ You internally questioned as you snatch the medication and shove it into your bag.

“I'm glad for it. Maybe even more so if she didn't pin so many babysitters onto me.”

At your grumble, Baizhu’s smile wavered at the edges. Either he truly hadn't known why there was extra ‘security’ or he was a great liar. You suspect it's a bit of both.

“Then if everything has been covered, I’m happy to say that you're officially discharged as of-” He merely glanced at the sun still high in the sky before finishing. “1300. I sincerely hope that the next time we meet you'll be in a better physical state.”

“And I sincerely wish we never have to meet again.” The words you utter are full of sarcasm, something Baizhu simply chuckles at.

“Now what could I have possibly done to deserve your ire, dear Oracle?”

“It's what you haven't done. A little heads up about all the guards would have been nice.”

“Oh, but I did!” His smile seems a little sharper as he leans toward you, his glasses sliding down to the bridge of his nose. “Didn't I let you know early on that there were quite a lot of guards?”

With an annoyed scoff, you snap back. “You said it was due to the two temples nearby, not cause Ningguang wanted to keep an eye on me.”

Raising his hands with wide eyes, Baizhu tried to placate you. “I'm not part of the Millelith, how on earth could a physician like me know the true reasoning?”

Holding his gaze, you tried to discern what he was truly thinking at this moment. Malice? Amusement? Mocking kindness?

But at that moment, all you could see was genuine surprise in his eyes. It only served to confuse you further.

Was Baizhu truly innocent in this? Your instincts in situations like these were usually correct. Besides, what would Baizhu even gain from deceiving you?

Still, that didn't explain why Baizhu was always so damn shady, but maybe you should chalk it up to an unfortunate side effect of being contracted with a snake.

“Well, then let me reiterate my earlier words. While I still hope we won't have to meet again. I do wish for us to want to meet again.”

Baizhu lowers his arms while fixing his glasses to laugh, the sound is surprisingly tender. “And how do you expect me to tell when that would be? I’m no mind reader.”

Standing up, you stay silent as you slip your bag over your shoulders and move past him. The door opens with a creak as you tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes.

“To put it simply, I’ll want to see you when you discover whatever is hidden in my culture sample.”

The door clicks shut as you leave Bubu’s Pharmacy for good.

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

After a brief but firm pat to Qiqi’s head, you walk down the stairs casually. The slight rustling of the leaves, the fabric of curtains drawn, and the quieting of chatter are all brought to your attention.

Ningguang’s spies and the Millelith guards are all watching you like rabid dogs, waiting for you to slip up and give them an excuse to arrest you right now. 

Smiling without hesitation, you get to the last step and pretend that the forced conversations around you aren't scripted, and that the eyes locked on you are of a curious bystander and not the ones of detectives.

Bringing your attention back to the list you have clenched in your hand, you read the first errand on the list.

Return books to library.

Easy enough, and it's even easier when people seem to automatically avoid being in your path.

Is this what a day in Xinyan's life feels like? It's honestly not that bad.

At least you thought so until you got to the counter and waited for the receptionist to return.

Five minutes pass. Then ten minutes, which quickly turn into fifteen in a blink of an eye. You can feel your mood worsening.

Deciding to test something, you walk away from the library and turn the corner. Peeking around the corner, you watch as the ‘customer’ that was standing in the corner all those minutes gets to the counter. Almost immediately, a swarm of people return to it.

Sighing heavily, you ignore the weight of suspicious stares and turn the corner back into the library. Getting back into line feels humiliating, but it's just a quick errand, you tell yourself.

No one moves out of the way, but the quick glances they send you make them pale with each minute.

Not a soul dares to stand behind you.

It's finally your turn, and you place your books on the table with the last bit of patience you had. She doesn't meet your eyes and mumbles something.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” Leaning closer, you try to catch her words, only for her to yell.

“It's lunchtime now so I can't accept any more returns or purchases. H-Have a good-d da-ay!”

Flabbergasted at the sheer audacity, you watch her flip a sign on the table and flee the area.

“Fuck this shit.” Colorful curses leave you as you drop all the books haphazardly on the table and storm away.

Crossing it off the list, you follow the main path to the next errand.

Collect reward from Guild

That commission should have given you one hell of a paycheck the last time you checked. Primogems may be worthless now, but you could use the Mora the commission provides.

Plus, you needed to let them know to change it to the Mondstadt region.

Lost in thought of all the technicalities and paperwork you would have to fill out, you weren't focusing on the fleeting whispers around you.

“Is that them?”

“Who else could it be?”

“What a monster…���

“-as long as we get paid.”

“Who cares about-”

“It's me or them.”

“As long as it's them and not me.”

Your experience at the guild was a much kinder one. Katheryne was the epitome of professionalism, just as you remembered her to be. Not that you expected much else from a robot.

After handing all the written work to her, you finally noticed the absence of a certain person.

“Where’s that grouchy Lan? She's usually here, isn't she?” Checking the vicinity, you try to spot the brown recognizable bob.

“The Branch Master Lan is currently undertaking a commission at this time.”

“About the unseen razor, right?”

“That can not be disclosed to unauthorized-”

“It's fine. I’ll see you later, Katheryne.” Turning around, you leave without another thought. Lan wasn't anywhere near the ‘threatening’ list you've created since you last saw her.

Pick up plushie

Crossing out the previous task, you look at the present one with mixed emotions. On one hand, you were happy to get a chance to see something related to Earth, to your world. But at the same time, you couldn't help but wonder if it would serve more as a distraction than anything else. The memories it brought up never failed to leave your heart troubled…

Remembering the money you spent commissioning it ultimately tipped the scales, and so you dragged your feet to the little old lady’s toy shop.

It was empty just as the first time you were there as she hummed. If she was a vision holder you'd guess Hydro judging by the tranquility she radiated.

Her eyes meet yours and a happy smile slips onto your face without much thought.

“Here to pick up the toy, dearie?”

“Yup.” Popping the ‘p’, you watched as she gathered a delicately wrapped box from under the other boxes and presented it to you.

“Enjoy the nostalgic memories a toy can bring.”

You politely thank her before taking the present and walking away. The weight of the box is heavy with dread, and you can only find solace in the fact she didn't refer to it as ‘happy’ memories.

Once sufficiently out of sight, you take to grasping the lid. But you couldn't bring yourself to remove it.

Too many memories. All of them are rushing in and filled with conflicting feelings that would surely crush you. The fear and selfishness of the broken promises and unfulfilled desires would throw you off your game.

With a little too much enthusiasm, you stuff the box of the cat plushie into your bag.

Most likely to stay forgotten and distant from the present you're facing.

Scratching it off harder than the rest, you get to the last errand.

Refill supplies

A smart and mature move considering how you used the whole Medkit during the chase. The soggy bandages and washed away ointment really hurt your heart and wallet.

Revisiting the same shops you went to the first time proved to be ineffective. Either they were completely sold out or no longer supplying them.

Forced to visit more stores, you had to walk around the city a lot more than you cared to. Each store had one of the two situations, and the skittish actions of everyone around you were just the cherry on top.

At one point you even tried to buy the individual items separately, and even that failed.

It's not like you could just wait till next week for the first shipment. You weren't even sure you would live till then.

Eventually, you found yourself sulking on the lower docks, turning the situation around in your head.

If only you lived in Liyue for a little longer, maybe you could have found some of the hidden shops. Befriend a store owner and get a hidden one.

Just who the hell would even go out of their way to get every medical first aid part when it's such a crucial item for so many people in this era?

A name finally comes to mind and your expression sours at the thought. Not that you’d let it show, Celestia knows how many guards are watching you at this moment-

A sudden, rapid series of taps on your shoulder has you spinning around in surprise.

A young boy stands before you. The clothes he wears has visible wear and tear as the fabric frays from the edges. Yet you can't help but think you might have seen him before.

Placing a finger on his lips, he uses his other hand to grab hold of your elbow and tug you along.

Surprised but not suspicious of the kid, you let him lead you deeper into the docks. The dark red of his eyes seem to glow within the shadows as his dirty blond hair acts as your beacon of light.

The smell of fresh fish turns rotten, and the dirt caked under his fingernails stains your clothes. The complete and straight planks become jagged and creaky as you follow him farther.

But you stayed silent.

You recognized a path to the seedy part of the city when you see it.

Instead, you examine the younger boy with a critical eye and finally connect the dots. He must be one of the kids you saved with Yiran.

A smirk creeps up your face. It seems you managed to use your time wisely in making connections after all.

Following along the twists and turns, you don't worry too much about the Millelith. Most of the guards probably couldn't even get this far. If you had to guess, it would only be the detectives who could keep up.

It's not like the hidden underworld of cities as popular as Liyue Harbor are any big secret to them.

Stalls and various shops fill the area as flickering lanterns and other extra lighting give you a wider view.

Multiple people call out to the boy as he silently waves to them. The gaze of the homeless and shady people around aren't warm, but aren't hostile either.

Not that you were exactly expecting a warm welcome, but at least you didn't have to worry about sudden personality changes.

Money could buy you information, but it wouldn't buy you trust in these parts.

He finally stops at a little nook in the corner of the area. The door is worn down with scratches and marks yet the light you can see under it is warm.

Silent as before, he points at you, then to the rows of shops in a sweeping motion before stopping at the door.

Pinching your brows in slight confusion, you chew on the gestures to understand it. High-pitched laughter that suspiciously sounds like children eases into your ears as the boy squirms in place.

“Did you want me to knock on the door when I'm done shopping? That you'll lead me back to the surface?”

It was the only thing that you can think of. And despite your hesitation, the boy nods, clearly relieved that you understood the message.

He must truly be mute, no doubt from whatever horrors he must have faced that lead to the scars poorly hidden by mud on his arms.

You were thankful either way. Just leading you here was great but getting an exit too was even better. Now you could avoid getting mugged and/or murdered on your way back.

“Thanks man, I'll be quick.” With that, you walk away, already following the invisible path to the shops that caught your eye.

As much as you would have liked to explore the various items and weapons they had, you didn't want to keep the kid waiting.

After having to buy a rather expensive medical kit, a minor downside to finding the first medical anything since you left Bubu’s pharmacy, you pick up a minor stitching case.

You could have really used one during your latest and probably not last chase. Stuffing it into your bag, as people eye the magical item with desire, you quickly find the home.

Getting to the door, you step closer than before and take note of the older voice. A woman that's chuckling, and a lingering sense of guilt invades your mind.

Quickly rapping your knuckles on the wood, you step away as the home goes dead quiet.

Multiple little eyes peer at you from windows below you as you lazily grin and wave. They all scatter as giggling resumes and the sound of playing returns.

But not the woman’s voice. You didn't expect it to. It's hard to face the only person you've poured your raw wounds from a child's death to.

The kid finally steps out with multiple clicks of locks echoing around the small space. Smiling, you take no offense to the action. You weren't here for trust, and they weren't helping you out of it either.

His crimson eyes glisten with interest at your bag. He wants his pay, and you're more than happy to oblige.

Stuffing your hand into the bag, you feel the familiar clink of Mora gathering in your hand. Pulling it out, you place an appropriate amount into the pouch he already has prepared.

When you drop it all, he takes it closer to him and picks up a piece. The first thing he does is try to bite it, and the familiar memory of you testing coins the same way makes you smile sadly.

Counting the Mora, he frowns, clearly displeased with the amount. He holds his hand out, and you can feel the other children’s stares digging into you.

“I'm going to give you two things that aren't Mora, okay? But you have to keep it a secret.”

He narrows his eyes, no doubt suspecting you of being a shady person. That's probably why he brought you here first and demanded payment before returning you.

Like this, he has back up and cornered you further into payment of his choosing.

“Do you have a cooking pot?”

He frowns in confusion before nodding slowly. Lifting one finger in a pause motion, before heading back inside his home.

He returns while holding a clean cooking pot. It doesn’t take long before he places it over the open fire you already started.

Small eyes follow your every step as you dig out ingredients from your bag. Mentally going over the ingredients you had originally prepared for your celebration feast if you survived tonight, you drop them into the pot.

4 ham, 3 crabs, 3 shrimp meat, and 3 matsutake potatoes are dropped in.

Turning around, you count to five as the boy gives you a confused stare. But you only wink at him before turning around to look at the pot, as his eyes widen at the sight.

Adeptus’ Temptation sits innocently in the pot as the rich aroma wafts around the area, drawing curious hungry eyes.

Leaning down, you whisper to the boy.

“Get your friends and bring the pot back into your house quickly. This food is blessed and safe as you watched the whole process. I suggest you let the sickly and injured children eat first.”

He looks between you and the pot with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he can't trust you too much, but even the smell of the food was clearly tempting him.

It's the shuffling of feet getting closer that makes him bang on the door, signalling for the other children to come out and help him bring it inside.

By the time the shabby adults come into view, it's just you and the boy ‘talking’ as they grumble and turn around.

The kid still looks displeased. You don't blame him completely, since how can he trust that the food you cook isn't spiked with anything nefarious.

You're not even sure if it can heal people that aren't acolytes. It doesn't work on you after all.

At least they'll all enjoy a hot meal, even if it doesn't work.

Sighing, you take out your last resort from your bag, sadly selecting it and pulling it out. The secret weapon you've been saving since your time in Inazuma.

The colorful assortment of candy wrappers makes the kid’s eyes sparkle with the childlike glee that was absent since you met him. Probably long before you met him.

“It's not just Liyue candy, some are even from Inazuma.” The thought of giving up your hard-earned candy hurt you, but you let it go. 

The candy you squirreled away during the Inazuma festival, and the discount ones you bought at cheap prices at Liyue’s markets, were both never going to be eaten anyway.

His hands reach out to snatch the candy greedily from you but you raise it out of reach at the last second. He stomps his foot in childish indignation as you chuckle.

“Sorry, but I need you to bring me back to the outside before you scam me out of any more goodies.”

Finally giving up, he grabs your elbow again and leads you back through the streets. You enjoy the sights as he leads you zigzagging through the stalls.

You can't help but wonder if any detectives are still watching your boring little interactions. Admittedly, you played into the kid's desires more then you had to.

But you couldn't stop yourself from doing so when all you could see in him was yourself when you were that height.

The sun comes into light as the dim lanterns fade away. Like this, you can see his features once more as the stomping of soldiers return.

His eyes scan the area at the sound, but he keeps his hands open for the sweet treats. Smiling, you drop the candy into his open palms before he rushes off with a beaming boyish grin.

Stretching as you walk up the planks to the surface, you finally cross off the last item and drop it into the nearby trash can.

You try to ignore how it disappears when you turn the corner.

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

Time ticks down slowly, and you aren't looking forward to seeing Madam Ping just yet. Besides, you made a long-overdue promise to someone else beforehand.

Starting up at the somewhat hidden Funeral Parlor, you push the door open with a casual; “Hey, I'm here to meet up with the Director of this fine and totally not macabre establishment.”

The receptionist blinks at your sudden words before a cheery voice responds from behind her.

“You sure took your time, Y/N. I almost wondered if you up and died before I got a chance to have you purchase one of our very convenient and practical deals!”

Yet again, Hu Tao was right on the money about you being close to death. Idly, you wonder if you look half as dead as you feel.

The receptionist is more than happy to slip away as her boss bounds up to you with that elemental ghost hovering around her.

Flower pupils stare into your eyes, giving you a vague sense of unease as Hu Tao examines you from various angles. 

“Yup, yup! Just as I suspected. You are in desperate need of escape, and it seems the only way you'll be getting it is in death. My honest suggestion is that you buy a coffin from us and lead a hedonist lifestyle to enjoy the few years you have left.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” You dryly respond as she nods approvingly. 

“A business needs to be honest for it to succeed in the long-term. Trust of the customers is one of the biggest key factors.”

Not willing to argue on a topic you were admittedly clueless on, you follow her deeper into the Parlor.

“Then you got any good deals for a traveling adventurer like me who could be dead halfway across the world?”

She sighs, exaggerating it to the utmost while circling you. “I thought deeply on the topic and while the Wangshsng Funeral Parlor has grown enough to reach all of Liyue and a good amount of Mondstadt and Sumeru, we still haven't grown enough to pair up with each region.”

Passing by multiple doors, your eyes scan for a clue on where she was leading you.

“But considering you're the most eager customer I've had concerning their own death, I decided to present you with a special deal.”

“Wouldn't suicidal people also be enthusiastic in this topic?”

“They're usually more focused on the moment and their own afterlife, instead of the corpse they leave behind. Besides-!”

Whipping around to look at you with a knowing grin, she lays a hand decorated in rings on the handle.

“You aren't that far from being called a suicidal person yourself, Y/N!”

Before you can question her on those words, she swings the door open to show multiple rows of various coffins.

“The special offer I'm giving you is to purchase a coffin and I will personally escort your wandering soul to the border for proper peace.”

Tearing your eyes from the admittedly impressive collection of varying caskets, you have the sense to ask her a question. “So, what's the point in me buying a coffin if my body ends up in the waters of Fontaine? And how could I even trust that you have the ability to escort souls?”

From what you remember, Hu Tao should have no clue about your oracle status, so logically you should act oblivious to her connection with the border. Would you even be able to cross the border? It’s not like you were born on Teyvat like her other customers.

Unless Zhongli told her, but that would require more of an explanation on his behalf that he wouldn't want to do. 

“Very good question, dear customer!” She spins around to face you once more, her long twin tails swinging during the motion.

“Even if your body is irretrievable for whatever reason, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor will deem your casket full after I guide your soul.”

The atmosphere visibly shifts after she speaks. The room darkens as the lanterns flicker, her back lowers in a familiar position as a cold phantom touch caresses your hand.

“You of all people should know why and how I'm able to guide souls. After all, I wouldn't expect anything less from an Oracle of the Creator.”

A crooked grin makes its way to your face as goosebumps raise on your skin. Hu Tao’s ‘threatening’ words of knowing your identity were like the sweetest song to your ears.

Finally, all your hard work in creating connections and stabilizing your identity has paid off. Acolytes you've barely begun conversing with already see you as an Oracle.

“Should I applaud you or something, Director? Or should I just accept the deal and make us both happy?”

Hu Tao laughs at your words as you take confident strides to stand by her side.

“I would appreciate the second option much more!” Signature flower pupils drink your smiling visage in with delight before her hand grasps yours in a tight hold.

“Now, if you will, I'll introduce all these amazing coffin and casket types for you to ask about and choose between.”

There's no time to protest, not that you would as she pulls you along excitedly as butterflies made of Pyro brush against your cheek.

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

Somehow you and Hu Tao had managed to look at every single coffin type in existence. A style, color and even additional design to it has already been decided.

You're just left with choosing the best wood for it.

Hu Tao wanted to stay with you throughout the whole process, but an important matter came up again, making her complain loudly as she left.

But before she did, she insisted on sending one of her employees to help you in choosing, as ‘the wood is a vital part of the process!’. 

So now you're left waiting in the absolutely quiet room, with only the sound of your own breathing accompanying you.

Looking down at the two coffins made of different wood, you waited for this employee. A small smirk played on your lips as you heard the door audibly click shut.

The thumping of shoes coming closer was silent, but the slight hitch of breath gave away how close your new consultant was.

“White cedar wood and Teck wood are both very fine choices. Though I would consider the Catalpa wood two rows down to be the best choices considering your position.”

Hot air fans your skin as the knowledgeable words spoken in that low timber light your nerves aflame.

Turning around, you look into amber eyes that remain steadfast on your face. His outfit is pristine and there's not a single evidence of the battle he was left to fight on him.

“If that answers your last question for the coffin customization, then would you mind stepping outside with me?”

Waving your hand, you dismiss his words without hesitation. “We can do so after I check out the Catalpa wood you recommended.”

Your head angles to the side to look at him with a teasing grin. “I know it's your retirement, but you of all people should know that rushing a job is never good.”

A long-suffering sigh leaves Zhongli as you walk away to the Catalpa coffin, before he follows you. 

More than happy to kill time like this, you feel the wood under your fingertips in a smooth stripe.

“Catalpa wood was and is still often used as an outer coffin for the jade inner coffin that Liyue officials were buried in. Not only can it be carved fluidly, but it is also very resistant to decay, unlike other ornamental wood. Its stability is quite underrated, with only the drying to be a tad problematic. And even that will be for us to deal with.”

Vaguely you wonder if this information was inserted into the game based off China’s own history or if Teyvat really did age throughout many years to build its own history.

“That’s why I recommended this type of wood to you. While you’re not officially a member of the Qixing or other affairs, your position of oracle is enough to warrant such a valued coffin.”

“Are you trying to convince me to buy it for your job, or are you trying to flatter me for your proposal?”

“You may see it as both, neither, or one of the two. I'm simply here as the consultant. I am to assist you with all of your decision-making inside this building.”

A huff of laughter leaves you before you tap on the casket. “Then I'll go along with what you want and take this wood.”

Zhongli nods, not bothering to write it down as his memory must be far greater than you care to imagine. 

His gloved hand is displayed to you in a silent question, but before you can move, he removes the glove.

Quizzically, you raise an eyebrow before placing your hand on his now bare one. Peering at his face from your place you note the slightest blush on his otherwise composed expression.

Smiling to yourself, you allow his fingers to intertwine with your own as he guides you out of the side door. Following him blindly up the staircase, past a set of rooms, another staircase till you finally arrive at the roof.

Zhongli squeezes your hand one last time, clearly relishing in the touch of your calloused fingertips before letting you go.

“I've waited patiently for you, Y/N. What is your answer to my marriage proposal?”

His eyes stare at yours with unshakable firmness. In a sense, it's endearing, and you make it clear by smiling widely.

“It's a no from me.” That resolute expression cracks and his mouth drops open before it's slammed shut at your bright laughter.

But even his poorly concealed embarrassed expression can't smother the blood rushing to his cheeks as his ears hang onto every addictive note that leaves your lips.

This has taken a long time. Like super long. I haven't dropped this series, just have lots of school work to complete and exams to study for. Like I literally have one tomorrow. My editor did me a solid and highlighted the parts that I had to fill in after I gave the mostly completed document for editing. When I have to write the next chapter, it'll take a bit as I gotta reread for recalibration. Taglist is open as always!

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[dolicekiss]

Hiiiii I love ur writing!!! If it's too much of a bother, I totally wouldn't mind if you don't write this😭😭 I understand that you might be busy with other things, butttt could you write about Martin from Another Round?? Him as reader's teacher (in like uni or something one where reader is legal) and like a punishment sort of thing that's happens to the reader while he's trying to teach them something after school bc they've been falling behind in their grades, and he eventually makes a deal that if they were to do a little "favor" they'd get an A?? Idk I just really like Martin😭😭 If possible, could you make the reader fem?? If not, gender neutral would be greatly appreciated, thank you!!!

- 🫧anon

♡: sorry this was so late, i just finished it and requests r piling up :[ hope u like it anon!

Good Grades

PAIRING: Martin X fem!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni), age gap (obviously), unprotected sex, perverted martin, oral (male receiving), degrading, humiliation, hair pulling, biting, filthy martin, power play.

SYNOPSIS: You've always struggled with your history subject, more so when it came down to remembering which historic event took in what year — the numbers screwing you up. It wasn't a surprise when you were called in by your teacher to scold you about your downgrading grades but you didn't know there was a much easier to fix them right up.

You were in a state of panic.

When your teacher had asked you to stay behind, you knew damn well what it was for.

History wasn't one of your strongest suits, especially remembering the numbers. You tried your best to embed your mind with it but you failed at the end.

Your nails scratched the skin around them in anticipation, stomach twisting in nervousness and anxiety knocking at the doors of your brain to allow it in.

You only had to wait for the bell to ring and once it rang, all the students left. Rushing to catch their breaks and some letting out sighs of relief to finally be freed of this soul sucking boring subject.

You were alone with him.

Martin’s gaze captured you as he picked up the papers he'd graded, setting them aside after picking out one.

It had to be yours.

He walked over to you, dragging a chair and sitting down on it in front of you. You could feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, heart hammering rapidly in your ribcage. Your forehead had perspired and you let out a breath.

“What is this, miss?” He asked, holding your paper out for you.

Immediately when you saw the grade of it, you felt like passing out. Martin eyed you as you averted your gaze from him and the piece of paper, looking around.

You had no courage to face your failure.

“I'm asking you something.”

You licked your lips. “A paper.”

Martin leaned back into the chair, thighs spreading open. He sighed. “I know it's a paper and it is your paper, which you almost failed.”

You flinched at his tedious tone, not enjoying how he spoke to you. Truth was, Martin had kept an eye on you for so long. Unbeknownst to you, he always tried to focus more on you and make you learn.

But you didn't want to.

Head anywhere but here, in his class.

“This isn't the first time. If you keep falling, I'll have to kick you out of the class.” It was a threat and your eyes widened immediately, shaking your head.

You leaned forward, the unbuttoned shirt revealing your chest which Martin captured a glance of. His cock stirring in his pants at how your tits pressed together — forming the perfect view for him. “Please, no. You can't do that. Just give me a chance, I'll do anything to fix my grades.”

Martin raised a brow.

Anything you said.

“I'm sorry but there is nothing I can do. I've had enough of this. You never pay attention and you're always chatting with other students.”

You shook your head. “Sir please, I will focus more. I will pay attention.”

Martin eyed you.

You seemed so desperate. He could see the raw desperation in your gaze and something inside him snapped, seeing how your pupils had blown out. He swallowed tightly and after debating with his own mind, he finally came to a conclusion.

He had power over you.

Why not abuse it?

“Get up and lock the door.”

You blinked at his abrupt command but nodded nonetheless, rising up from your seat to lock the door. Once you had snapped the little lock in place, you turned around to look at your teacher.

“Come here." And you obliged again.

Sauntering towards him, your pale skirt flowing by your side when you moved towards him. Nervousness had crawled all the way up to your throat and you licked your lips, in an attempt to wet the chapped skin.

You stood in front of him.

“There's something we can do to fix your grades.” He spoke, voice now a few octaves lower. Your fingers engulfed the material of your skirt as you raised a brow.

Martin reached for your hand, taking it into his. His brown eyes drowning in yours and his lips holding a sweet smile as if he wasn't about to make an immoral offer. “How about you be a good girl for your teacher and suck his cock?”

Your eyes widened in horror.

Pulling your hand out of his grasp, you retreated and stared at him. You'd never thought about your teacher in that sense. Yes, he was very attractive and you had a thing for older men but this was completely unethical and unprofessional.

You inhaled sharply.

Confusion clouded your judgment. You didn't know what to do. The proposal wasn't as bad as your mind was making it appear. Just give him head, get your grades up and work harder next time.

That easy, yeah?

Your knees dipped in front of Martin’s spread thighs and his smile widened. A tent already visible in his crotch. He was so excited, as he would always wonder how your glossy pink lips would feel wrapped around his cock — your tight little throat fighting to make space for his length.

You blinked, profusely as you reached for the zipper of his pants. He noticed the tremor in your hands and smiled softly, loving how innocent you appeared. Your hand managed to unzip his pants and pull out his cock but the moment your fingers caressed his hardened length, Martin hissed.

Your mere touch felt like embers on his skin.

Your eyes widened upon witnessing his gaze, the sheer length and girth of it leaving you completely bemused. How was that even supposed to fit in your mouth? You wondered if you could grow used to his size.

“What you waiting for, pretty girl?”

You looked at him with your pretty eyes as you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his tip. It leaked with precum and the salty taste glossed your lips. You ran your tongue over his pink cockhead and then wrapped your lips around him while your hand began to stroke him from his base — upto his length.

Martin slumped into his chair leisurely as his palm opened and rested over your head, forcing you to take him further. His lips fell open as he shuddered, enjoying the warmth your mouth produced around him.

The more you took him into your mouth, the harder it became for you to breathe properly.

You tried to inhale oxygen through your nose, your hands both resting on his parted knees. Martin’s hand pushed you further down on his cock and you fluttered your eyes shut, feeling his cock glide over your tongue and make way into your throat.

“Fuck, such a tight little mouth you've got, baby.” Martin groaned and as you peeled open your lids, you saw a sight before you which made your cunt throb.

A few straight strands had fallen over Martin’s forehead, his lips parted as his chest heaved up and down. Chiseled cheek bones reflexing everytime he let a gasp slip.

You took him deeper, feeling his cock head slip into your throat and you whined, sending vibrations and tremors down his cock into his groin. His cock throbbed and twitched like crazy and you could feel every little movement inside your tight cavern.

Your windpipe felt like it was being crushed and you pulled back from his cock, to take him deeper again.

“You're pretty good at this.” Martin groaned, staring down at you with hazy eyes. “How many cocks have you sucked, hm?”

You shook your head, telling him that this was your first time. Martin thrusted his hips upwards, driving his cock deeper into your throat. He managed to catch a glimpse of his dick print in your throat and lost his restraint.

Callous hands grabbing your head, holding it in place as he began to fuck his cock into your throat. Thrusts harsh and vigorous, your heart galloped in your ribcage. Your eyes fell shut and Martin’s fingers engulfed your hair.

“Look at me. Show me those pretty eyes, baby.” You obliged, fluttering them open. Your lashes coated the apple of your cheeks and tears emerged from your tear glands — droplets sliding down. Martin discarded the chair as he stood up, using his full strength to chase his orgasm.

You sniffled, gagging over his cock. A white ring of spit accumulating around his length from all the choking. Your mouth was covered in drool as well as chin, streams of precum mixed with saliva going down.

Martin’s balls throbbed and his pace fastened, fucking your throat like it was a cunt. You felt a stinging sensation spread in your knees from how long you'd been kneeling on the floor. His stomach was taut and his thrusts grew slightly slow — hinting at his upcoming arousal.

Loud groans and gagging sounds filled the whole of classroom. “Fucking whore. On her knees just to g-get good grades. How desperate can you be.”

Martin was a mess. His forehead was sweaty and then after a harsh thrust in your tight throat, he finally released inside your cum. Though that didn't last long as he pulled out halfway, shooting ropes of cum all over your face. You closed your eyes as the warm liquid stained your face wet.

You breathed like you'd ran a fucking marathon. Shallow breaths being inhaled while Martin stared at you, admiring how his climax covered your cheek. You reached to swipe it off your face, sticking your fingers into your mouth to suck them clean.

“You look fucking pretty like this.” He praised, running his hand over your messy hair.

Your cheeks warmed up. “I-Is that enough? Will you fix my grades now, sir?”

He tilted his head, contemplating you. Lost in complete dilemma before he came to a conclusion. Martin didn't waste time lifting you up from the floor and you yelped — bemused by this abrupt action. He set you over the desk and smiled, causing his smile lines to appear.

“I can't let you go this easily, pretty girl. I need more now.” You blinked and stared at him, knowing what he was hinting at. You'd sucked him dry, there was no way he could regain his strength this quickly but when your gaze lowered and you caught onto his cock hardening, you realised his age did not work as restraints to his desires.

Martin took a step back. “Open your legs, show me that pretty cunt of yours.”

“Sir but you—”

“You want to fail?” He asked, brow raised. Deep voice hiding a threat underneath and you shuddered at the unexpected change of tone.

You nodded your head, face flushed and hair sticking to your skin. Parting open your thighs, you revealed your sticky panties and Martin’s chest rumbled with a primal growl at the sight. Your panties had a wet spot and that only worked to heighten his arousal for you.

His large hands held you open, staring at how your cunt produced more and more essence of desire. Your thighs shuddered when his knuckles caressed them, his hands tugging off your panties and slipping them inside his pocket.

“But..” You complained at the perverted action of your teacher.

Martin grinned at you. “Sh, I might need them for later when my cock becomes hard at the memory of being inside your little pussy.”

Martin didn't even care to prep you. He only held his cock in his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your moist puffy cunt. Then he entered you and the stretch of your pussy made you arch your back. Your palms gripped on the edge of the table as you whimpered.

You were all over the place.

Embarrassment crept up your body like vines when you registered the situation you were in.

Willing to sleep with your older teacher only to achieve good grades. If your parents were to find out, they would look down upon you and you'd probably be expelled from your university but none of that mattered.

You needed good grades and this was the only way.

“Fuck— you've got such a tight little cunt, baby.” Martin moaned, entering you till he's pelvis had pressed up yours. Soft little whimpers escaped you when you were filled to the brim. “I'm gonna fuck you, gonna dumb you down on my cock.”

You sniffled, a lone tear sliding down.

Martin leaned in and captured your lips in a kissing, licking and sucking at yours. A hungry kiss it was but it made your cunt throb around his hard cock.

He started to pull out, only to thrust back inside you with vigor. His hips snapped repeatedly, finally losing all sense of control.

Martin’s hands held your hips, digging into them as he drove himself into the warmth of your sweet cunt. He was fucking hysterical, each thrust delivered with passion and driven by need.

Crying out from pleasure and ecstasy, your body jerked upon feeling his cock nestle into your sweet spot. You reached for his sweaty nape, wrapping both arms around it for support. The desk underneath you quaked whenever Martin would snap his cock into you.

“S-Sir, oh my god. Sir please, someone might h-hear.” You sobbed uncontrollably from the unbridled lust.

Martin brought his hand upto your face and shoved his fingers into your mouth, pressing along your wet tongue. You choked a little but allowed him to shove his fingers down your throat, tips brushing against the palate of your mouth.

“Keep quiet, yeah? Don't want anyone to know you're getting fucked by your teacher for some high grades.” Martin shushed you, staring at you with pure lust swimming in his gaze.

You kept your thighs apart, abdomen shivering from your upcoming climax and your fingernails dug into Martin’s nape, scratching at the skin. He hissed and the pain only increased his strength, thrusting harshly inside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your release pounding at your taut stomach and with a loud cry you came all over Martin’s cock. He didn't give you any time to calm down, instead seeing how beautiful you looked when you made a mess on his cock only made him fuck you harder.

He grabbed your leg and pulled it up to his shoulder, leaning down and pressing his body firmly against yours. Martin dug himself deeper inside your tight cunt, as it clamped down on him and the man felt like you would snap him in half.

“You'll fucking cut my dick in half, baby. Relax a little, yeah? I'm close, so fucking close.” He reassured you, pressing onto your stomach to feel his cock push up against your cervix. His length grazing your walls.

He buried his face in your neck, digging his teeth into your skin. Tainting the unmarked canvas of a skin with red and blue.

Martin’s hips stuttered as he felt himself near, soon spilling inside you. His load heavy and filling you up to the brim. Thankfully you were on birth control so it didn't really matter but the feeling of his cum inside you made you twitch.

He pumped into you, emptying himself inside you for the second time but in your puffy cunt. You'd buried your head in his chest and Martin let you, finally getting what he needed from you.

He pulled out from you after you both had calmed down and caught a breath and you whimpered at the loss of contact. The blonde watched your gaping hole release his seed in drops, trailing down and making a mess on his wooden desk.

“Such a pretty, swollen cunt.” He whispered, shoving his cum back inside with his long fingers.

Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you let out a whine when he did that. His tan skin glistened with sweat, making it appear gold like to the gaze. Hair a mess, similar to yours and his flannel shirt crinkled up. Martin fixed your skirt, pulling it down over your thighs and you realized he had fucked you in your skirt, which made this rendezvous even more hotter.

Your face flushed and sweaty, lips swollen and eyes watery.

Martin wanted to take a picture of how fucked out you looked. But he didn't — it would only cause problems if he was ever caught. Especially by his wife.

“W-Will you fix my grades now?” You asked, once you'd ran a hand through your hair and slid off the table. Lower body barely having any strength to support the upper one.

When you looked up at Martin, your eyes still held remnants of your innocence and he nearly swooned.

He nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “With how well you took my cock, I'll fucking give you the highest grade.”

You smiled, pleased with the result. This was all you ever wanted. To pass and not be a failure and knowing your teacher’s weakness made it a whole lot easier for you.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You're Tom's makeup artist for a movie he's shooting and you absolutely hate him. However, one round of karaoke later, your feelings temporarily shift.

Genre: Fluff, smidge of angst, Enemies to Lovers (very one-sided lmao)

Warnings: Tom is a stupid asshole (but he's also just a mess), swearing, reader is described as shorter than Tom, light misogyny, slapping, alcohol, being drunk/high.

TOM RYDER MASTERLIST

The bar is dimly lit and the loud music resounds in your ear as your knee bounces. You stir the straw around your drink, sighing as you turn to Vanessa, your co-worker. "He left me another post-it note on the desk yesterday telling me he wants a new lip oil because his now tastes weird!? His last one is only from last week and it's the same brand he always uses! I'm so sick of his bullshit, V," you drop your head in your arms and then peek up at Vanessa again, "He's such a dick."

Vanessa laughs, sipping on her margarita, as she shrugs, "Didn't you know that when you took the job, honey?"

"I mean, sure. But those could have been rumors," you pout and sit up, moving some hair behind your ear as you look around the room, where other crew members have gathered around the karaoke machine.

"Listen, don't think about Tom Ryder. You're off the clock and everyone knows he's a world-class asshole—a pretty world-class asshole, I will let him have that," Vanessa hums and also turns her attention to the rest of your friends and co-workers as she claps her hands. 

You look down at your drink, your cheeks feeling warmer than usual. Not thinking about Tom Ryder was easier said than done when you had to work on his face 5 days a week. He was so infuriating most times, either talking down to you when you worked or wouldn't cooperate with anything you told him to do because he was on his phone. Sometimes he really makes you want to stab the mascara stick into his eye. 

Still, you can't deny he's extremely handsome and that just annoys you more. 

Suddenly, you hear a bunch of cheers and hoots from outside, directly accompanied by the sound of the door slamming open. When you hear an all too familiar voice, your eyes widen and you snap around to make sure you hadn't just imagined it. 

Tom Ryder coming to one of the crew parties? No fucking way. Obviously, he's always invited to them but in a very arrogant fashion he never shows up—which is one of the reasons you do, because he never does. 

Only this time he did and he's not alone. 

Tom is dressed in another one of his boisterous outfits, his shirt loosely unbuttoned to reveal his chest and a peak of his toned abs. Pink-tinted sunglasses sit on his nose and his dirty blond hair curls messily around his face.

He looks drunk, or high, when he walks in and you can't tell which one it is because he's constantly moving and laughing. He's accompanied by a few other low A-list actor friends he has and a pretty blond model hangs on his arm, her giggles instantly infuriating you. 

How can she stand to be near him for more than a minute? Even less hold his arm and be his eye-candy? 

You turn back around, desperately attempting to calm the bile rising in your throat. God, you hate him. You feel even worse when he leans beside you at the bar and orders a drink from the bartender, snapping his fingers as he does. He doesn't even address your presence beside him and your blood boils. 

Your anger immediately turns to disgust when you hear the man hosting the karaoke scream out Tom Ryder's name.

"Tom Ryder everyone! I loved your new movie, man, it was awesome! How about a song?" the man asks, eyebrows wiggling as the crew clap (mostly out of politeness) and his friends make loud, drunken noises like a bunch of animals. 

"C'mon! One song—for all the pretty ladies in the crowd!"

Tom seems intrigued when the man mentions the girls. You roll your eyes and your hand tightens around your glass as he walks up to the host, raising his hands in surrender and feigning humbleness. "Alright, alright, I have to give the ladies what they want, don't I?" Tom boasts, winking at one of the camera girls he never looks at otherwise. 

Someone put you out of your misery now.

The host seems ecstatic to have someone this famous next to him and asks Tom for a quick photo, which Tom obviously doesn't turn down. You pretend to gag when Vanessa turns to look at you and smirks at Tom's behavior.. 

"How about a duet, Ryder?" The host asks as he hands him the mic. 

"Nah, I usually sing solo," Tom says, his words slightly slurred, and then he leans in to whisper something in the host's ear—which probably goes something like, "Unless she's got a nice rack, then by all means invite her up here." 

You lean in and whisper into Vanessa's ear, "Ten bucks he takes home the girl he ends up singing with," you say with a frown, your voice a little strained. Vanessa laughs and then the worst thing happens.

"You," the host shouts and you look up alarmed. Your eyes are wide when you realize everyone, including Tom, is staring at you. "The angry-looking girl in the back. Why don't you come up and join him? I doubt he'd bite." 

Laughter, including some nervous ones from your friends, resounds around the room as Tom's smirk widens. You'd be surprised, you think. You find your voice again and say, "Um, can't you ask one of them?" you point to the group of eager fangirls swarming around the small stage as they ogle Tom. 

"C'mon, sweetheart," Tom slurs, squinting at you, "One song won't kill you." 

But you might just kill him.

Vanessa, the traitor, nudges you again and you stumble from the stool. You glare at her but when all your friends, including Tom's more obnoxious friends, chant encouragements you feel completely trapped. 

The walk to the small stage feels eerily similar to a walk of shame as you look to your co-workers in hopes someone will save you. No one does and you ignore the stares from all the girls who wish they could take your place. 

You're blinded by the lights as you step on the stage and approach the host. "Atta girl," the man smirks patronizingly as he hands you the second mic. You scrunch your nose at him and then look up at Tom, expecting him to be ignoring you like he usually is, but instead, he's staring. 

His cheeks are pink from being intoxicated and he tilts his head, watching you clutch the mic nervously. 

The host doesn't warn you when the song begins to play and he walks away. You realize too late you and Tom are now alone and everyone is watching you as dread slowly fills your stomach. 

You don't even know how to sing! This is so humiliating. 

 The familiar melody of, "Don't Go Breaking My Heart," fills the air and you feel the heat rise in your chest and up to your ears. Your heart is pounding so loudly you can only faintly hear Tom start to sing the song. He sounds fairly good and you aren't surprised considering he's an actor. 

Your voice catches in your throat and you feel tears rise. You don't sing when it's your turn and the crowd is silent. 

Suddenly, you jump when you feel a strong hand on your hip and you snap your head around to look at him. Your hand finds Tom's hand immediately, gripping it, and just as you're about to pull it away, he leans in and whispers, hot against your ear, "Baby doll, you're making me look bad," he states, his tone as condescending as it always is, and your heart does a somersault in your chest.

He looks down at you this time, his blue eyes lock with yours for a moment and his hand falters on your hip. For an actor, Tom Ryder has surprisingly no poker face because when he sees your distressed state, his demeanor shifts, and instead of frustration, he takes on a different approach.   

He takes your hand, suddenly twirling you around and you make a small sound as you stumble. It's been a few seconds since anyone has sung the song, so he sings again and this time, his eyes stay on yours as he sings your lyrics.

"You know this," he mouths, encouraging you as he does this weird, clearly drunk-induced shimmy that makes you laugh despite your better judgment. He points to the small screen where the lyrics are displayed.

You take a breath and then sing, focusing on him instead of the crowd and your head feels light. You would have never guessed there would be a day when you'd find comfort in Tom Ryder. Your friends clap with amusement and laughter swirls around the bar as you both continue to sing and dance. 

Occasionally, Tom will pull you in closer but you'll move away, flustered, and when the song finally ends, you move back and almost trip on the mic's cord. 

With a gasp, you expect to fall flat on your ass but instead, Tom wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as your palms press on his chest. You're breathing heavily and so is he, his hand is still on your back as his eyes roam over all your features until you push him away and walk down the small stairs and back to the ground where all your friends are whispering and clapping. 

You feel like you can't breathe, your heart beating so quickly. You mumble a quick "excuse me" to Vanessa, snatch your purse from the bar counter, and open the door to outside. The cool air calms your burning skin and you lean against the building. 

What the fuck was that? Why was he looking at you like that? 

"You know, it's normal to be nervous around someone like me," Tom's voice interrupts your panic and you spin around, not expecting to see him. "But running from me? Now, darling, that's truly a first," he finishes with a chuckle and an obnoxious smirk. 

"You're so full of yourself," you whisper automatically but then your eyes round as if you've realized what you'd said. 

Tom looks surprised but he also remains cool as he strokes a hand down his jaw and puts it on his hip. "Mm, I assume you're not a fan then." 

You cross your arms and look anywhere but directly at him because fuck, why did someone so incredibly stupid and pretentious have to be so darn hot? "You could say that, sure," you shrug. "Not everyone likes you, Tom Ryder." You shut yourself up as soon as the words leave your mouth. This isn't exactly something you should say to someone who you work with.

However, Tom's expression sours and he lifts his eyebrow. "You don't like me?"

You turn to him, eyes locking with him this time. "That isn't what I said."

Tom's eyebrows crease and he squints at you, removing his stupid sunglasses and they push back his blond hair. "You're confusing me." He sounds genuine. 

You can't help but chuckle at his idiocy and surprisingly for you, your laughter makes him smile. He leans in and you lean away, eyes round when you realize how close he's becoming. "You have such a sexy laugh," he says cockily, "Bet I can make you do it again."

You hate to admit this but your heart does flutter at his words. Can anyone really blame you? It's Tom. Fucking. Ryder. You try to remind yourself how much of a dick he is—and always has been—but as you look into the blue of his eyes, his reassuring touch burns imprints on your skin and you feel dizzy. 

Shit. 

"You look familiar," Tom straightens himself, "Have I seen you somewhere? You been in any magazines? You certainly have the look."

You ignore the so-called complement and stare at him. He has to be kidding. You've been doing his makeup for over six months now and he supposedly sees you almost every day. You worked on his face every single day—how could he not recognize you? You open your mouth to ask if this is a joke but he interrupts you.

"Seriously, I must know you from somewhere. Gimme a hint, baby,"

Your stomach sinks and you feel so so stupid. Tom doesn't sense your shift as he's still focused on whatever fleeting emotion may have been between you before as his hand finds your hip. 

Instantly, your palm connects with his cheek, and the sound cracks into the air. "Don't touch me," you say harshly, ignoring how shaky your voice is.

Tom looks at you, his hand over his bruised cheek, "You hit me?!" he says in disbelief, "What the fu—" 

You don't stick around to hear his whining as you turn around and run from him. 

Again. 

"Hey–wait!" you hear Tom's shout but why would you turn around now? Tears of frustration brim your eyes as you hastily walk down the empty sidewalk.

There is no way you're fucking crying over Tom fucking Ryder right now, you tell yourself and pinch the inside of your eyes. 

No way. 

You ignore Vanessa's incessant calling and her worried texts when you arrive at your apartment. You scream in frustration, throwing your heels across the room and scaring your poor cat, Pumpkin, as she sprints into the living room, her claws against the floorboards.

Quickly, you follow her and scoop her into your arms, "'M sorry, baby," you coo and nuzzle your nose into her fur. "I'm sorry Mommy scared you."

You hear Vanessa's fifth call from your purse but you're too exhausted to deal with her and the fallout from what had happened tonight, so instead you sit on the couch and cuddle with Pumpkin, scratching behind her ears. 

* * * 

When you pull into the parking lot of the new set the next morning, you haven't slept well and you feel like shit—it doesn't help that they're filming outside today, in the summer heat, and grainy sand infiltrates into your Converse. 

You groan as you walk over to the makeup trailer and see Vanessa waiting for you. You almost called in sick this morning until you realized how guilty that would make you look, so you sucked it up. 

"Y/n?!" Vanessa shrieks and pulls you behind the trailer. "Where have you been?! I've called you a hundred times, why haven't you answered any of them? I was worried Ryder somehow took you home and that I'd lost 10 bucks—" 

"Gross, why would you think that?" you say with disgust as if you weren't surprised to hear that after you left Tom hadn't returned to the bar. 

"I mean, for one, Ryder was missing and no one knew where he went. And second, are you shitting me? Girl, the tension was more than palpable! You were practically dry-humping Tom Ryder in front of everyone!" 

You feel like someone has just punched you in the stomach and your voice comes out high and nervous when you exclaim, "I was not! It wasn't like that, V! Is that what everyone thinks?" Vanessa nods as an answer and you want to scream. 

"I swear, I- nothing happened—even outside—I- funny story I slapped him because he's a jerk and I- I don't like him!" you ramble and your heart thumps quicker when Vanessa looks behind you and her mouth curls into a devious smirk.

"Don't look now, sweetie, but your boyfriend just arrived," she pauses and checks her watch, "An hour late. As usual." Vanessa looks you dead in the eyes and then she teases, "Chop chop, time to put makeup on your man." 

Your eyes widen and you pull Vanessa further behind the trailer so Tom won't see you or her. You hold her shoulders. "Please switch with me for today. He won't even notice the difference, and Allie doesn't need to have her makeup done until noon so that way I don't have to see him! Please, V, I'll do anything!" 

Vanessa crosses her arms, "Nothing happened with him, hm?"

You look at her, your eyes round and pleading, "Please."

"Fine, but you're paying for my lunch later," she says and taps your nose, "and giving me a detailed rundown on what happened with Ryder."

You nod reluctantly, whispering a small thank you under your breath as she turns to walk into the makeup trailer behind Tom. You let out a breath, leaning against the trailer. You know you'll have to face him at some point—just not now.

The day drags on and on as the heat is becoming almost unbearable. You stand to the side, your makeup kit secured to your hip as you watch the scene from under a tent. It's another action sequence and it's very obvious Tom's makeup is fading from the warmth and his sweat. 

Shit, you realize, he needs a touch-up. Vanessa didn't use the correct primer. 

You look around, hoping to see Vanessa and tell her Ryder needs a touch but the director's voice cuts in and you tense, "Cut! Someone come to fix his face!" Jody turns to you, her eyes kind as her voice becomes a little less stressed when she sees you're prepared for this, "Can you fix his makeup?" 

Shit, shit, shit. 

This is your job, you can't say no so you walk out onto the set where Tom is leaning against a prop rock. He straightens himself and when he turns, he doesn't have the chance to process your presence as you guide him down and fumble with your kit. 

He's taller than you so he's leaning down so you can fix him up properly. You put your hand on his jaw, near his ear, to steady him as you touch up under his eyes and near his cheekbones. 

He's staring at you and you know he recognizes you this time, his blue eyes wide and puppy-like. 

Silently, you add some powder on his cheeks and nose so the product sticks better this time and when you let him go, Tom opens his mouth to speak, but you shake your head no, and then you turn your head and hurry back behind the camera. 

Your ears are burning from embarrassment as you walk directly to the makeup trailer, without looking back at anyone. 

You've barely closed the door when it slams open and you scream. You spin around just as someone tries to hold onto your arm and on instinct you grab the hairspray that's in your kit and spray it directly into… Tom's eyes. 

He screams too, his voice high-pitched and very un-sexy, as he clutches his eyes. Seeing him only causes you to scream again. "Ryder?!" you exclaim and immediately take his arm, pulling him inside the trailer as he wails like a child and rubs at his eyes. 

You slap his hands away and push him down under the faucet, pouring water into his eyes and in the process drenching his blond hair and ruining his mascara. 

"Fuck," he groans as he sputters out water as he jerks away from you. You move closer to him and without thinking hold both of his cheeks in your hands, looking directly into his, now slightly irritated, eyes. 

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, clearly concerned. 

Tom rests his hands on yours and pulls them away, "What do you think?" he groans and blinks a few times. "You're the girl—" he mutters and pinches his nose, "at karaoke. I remember you now."

You realize how close you are to him now and, overwhelmed, you step back. "Lucky me," you mumble sarcastically and take his arm, pulling him to one of the seats. "I have to fix your face again or someone is gonna fire me." 

He's weirdly docile as he looks at your work as you dry his hair. Once you're done, he speaks up, "Why'd you run from me? I mean, c'mon, the way you looked at me with those fuck-me eyes—" 

Tom has no shame and of course, he wouldn't. He's probably never really been rejected in his entire life and women have most likely let him speak to them like this. You pause and pull his chin harder so he's looking at you as you continue with his mascara. 

"Tell me honestly Ryder, do you even hear yourself when you speak?" you ask, your voice strained. 

"What?" Tom asks, sounding genuinely confused. 

"You're an asshole. That's why I ran from you." You drop his chin and your word vomit comes out without you being able to help it as you cross your arms, "I mean—I have been doing your makeup for months! And you've only ever left me your stupid post-it notes when you have a demand! No "Hi," "Good morning," "How are you?" No. Nothing like that. And I tried! I really tried in the beginning because like everyone else on this fucked up planet I thought you were awesome."

Tom opens his mouth to make a snide comment but you instantly press your finger to his lips. 

"I really thought, "I'm so lucky to be Tom Ryder's makeup artist!" and then I found out Tom Ryder is a shit person that doesn't—"  

"I'm not a shit person," Tom deadpans and stares at you as if your words have hurt him. 

You tilt your head and drop your arms to your side. You don't even know what to say to him anymore. 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I made you feel shitty, okay?" Tom defends and his cheeks are pink, "I just—I am really bad with faces—and I-I was completely shit-faced and high on–" 

He pauses, stands, and wraps his hand around your jaw, his thumb stroking your bare cheek as your eyes widen and you tense. Something about his charm makes it impossible for you to move and because his touch is gentle, you aren't too worried. For now. "'M sorry. I am. Can't we call it even since you hit me and sprayed me in the face with whatever that fucking was?!"

He continues, "—listen, I liked karaoke with you and I was shit-faced so I know I must have been a dick."

"You're always a dick, Ryder," you comment, your tone less mad than earlier.   

"Then, you don't know me very well," Tom shrugs, "or like at all." 

"So—you're saying all this dick-ishness is a persona?" You sound very skeptical and Tom just shrugs as his thumb strokes over your skin once more and then he drops his hand, putting some distance between you and him. 

"No. Not entirely. But, you know, that doesn't mean I'm incapable of genuine feelings, Y/n."

You're surprised when you hear your name fall from his lips. Tom sees your expression and another one of his smirks curls at his lips, "As I said, I remember you now. Always did—my hot makeup artist—ask anyone—ask Gail, I mention you a lot. I was just hammered, you know? High out my mind—and it heightened all my fucking senses that I couldn't get your laugh out my head for hours." 

"If you're joking," you say and glare at him, "it isn't funny." 

Tom puts a hand on his heart dramatically, "'M not. Scouts fucking honor." 

You look at him and for once, you can't read him. "Well, either way, that doesn't change how much of an asshole you've been to me. You never said "hi" but you told Gail about me? Sorry, but that doesn't impress me."

You walk up to him and tilt his head using his chin, examining his make-up once more, and then you take his arm and try to pull him out of the trailer, "Now, c'mon, you have a job to do—go do it," you hiss.

"But—" 

"No," you start but he won't move. He turns around and stares at you. Fuck, he's strong. "Why won't you leave?" you ask, breathless as you step away from him. 

"Do you hate me so much that you won't even consider that I genuinely find you interesting?" he asks with a hint of insecurity in his voice again. "That I liked spending time with you and I think you're pretty."  

Your chest tightens and you sigh, "I- I don't know," you admit and you look up at him. You can't deny that your feelings have shifted and a little voice in your head screams that this is a trap and he'll eventually break your heart. 

"Here," Tom fumbles with the pants of his costume and pulls out a pen and a post-it note. 

"You seriously just carry those on you?" you crack a smile, finding that weirdly endearing. 

Idiot. 

"Yeah," Tom says like it's the most normal thing ever and then he writes down something on the paper. When he hands it to you it's the name of a restaurant. You frown, it's your favorite restaurant. He'd written a time beside the name. 

"How do you know this is my favorite restaurant?" you ask. 

Tom looks up, his smirk turning into a smile. "I didn't—it's mine."

Your frown deepens, "Hm, I didn't take you for a low-priced family-run Chinese restaurant kinda guy—don't you have a personal chef or something," you say and look at the time he's written down, "What is this anyway?" 

Tom shrugs and adjusts his hair. "I do but I like this place. The family who owns it never tells anyone I've been there, it gives me some privacy," he sounds serious and he walks closer to you, "Don't tell anyone, it might ruin my reputation and then your favorite restaurant might be swarmed by a bunch of fangirls," he smirks, pleased with himself. 

You can't help but chuckle. 

"And this," he points to the time, "is where I'll be tomorrow evening if you'd like to join me," he says nonchalantly and then opens the trailer door. Just as he does, he takes his phone and takes a picture of the time so he remembers it and he sends you a wink. "I won't wait long but if you do come, it's on me." 

You stare at the paper and realize Tom Ryder has just asked you on a date. You look up but he's gone and your heart does about ten thousand summersaults as your brain screams in agony. Your cheeks feel warm as you fold the paper up and put it in the pocket of your jeans. 

You're so very screwed.

You hear a ding and then a text from Vanessa saying, "Ryder's mic was on—crew heard absolutely everything—we didn't wanna interrupt your moment," she adds a mocking winking emoji but you don't care. 

That's the least of your worries now that you have a date with Tom Ryder.

[nightingalescall]

Prelude to Pandemonium

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2(you are here)

"I can't breathe, Zephyr..."

You panted as you posed for the ending, your legs trembling beneath you from the exhaustion and the lack of oxygen. You've been repeating this sequence for the past several days but it just doesn't get easier, not with your access to air hindered.

Zephyr sighed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Lady (y/n) but this is standard protocol." You went back to standing normally as you lifted up your veil, revealing your sweat-filled face.

"How... How did you do this without fainting?" You expressed your confusion and astonishment at Zephyr as you tried to catch your breath. Zephyr walked closer, his hand holding a towel before using it to wipe your sweat away. "I struggled just as much as you did, Lady (y/n). In fact, you're doing much better than I did in the past." He smiled reassuringly.

"You're not saying that just to comfort me, are you?" You questioned skeptically as you took the glass of water he handed you before taking a sip. "It's the truth." Zephyr reassured, patting your head.

You nodded and handed him back the glass, believing him. "It's just...So hard to breathe with this on and dance at the same time." You complained under your breath. Zephyr reached towards your hair and took off the veil. He fiddled with the fabric in his hands, appearing to be thinking.

"...I'll get someone to make some last minutes modifications." He finally said after some silence. "Is there enough time? The ceremony is tomorrow night." You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure about his suggestion.

Tomorrow night, you will meet with the Royal family of Ebreau for the first time. From what Zephyr told you, you will be given a ceremony similar to the ones they hold for the initiation of newly appointed saints to celebrate your arrival in Ebreau. At the same time, it will serve as your debut to the public eyes. During the ceremony, the Royal family will give you their blessings as a welcoming to the kingdom. Then, they will impart to you their hopes for further collaborations. In response, instead of words, you will perform the Dance of Resonare Auream to answer their call.

According to Zephyr, the Dance of Resonare Auream replicates the movements of high priests from ancient times when they performed rituals to initiate a connection with Calerus in order to seek answers from him. Their movements during these rituals were modified and implemented into this dance. The Dance of Resonare Auream is only performed by saints during their ceremonies as a way to pledge allegiance to the Royal family and symbolises a saint's role as a bridge between the divine and the mortal world.

Being the saint of the temple of Sonnet, it comes without saying that Zephyr also performed this dance at his initiation years ago. Although there are some differences between the male and female counterparts, it's still mostly the same so Zephyr became your temporary mentor and guided you though the dancesteps. The dance wasn't hard in terms of its steps, simple but still elegant and graceful. The difficulty came from the odd tempo of the dance music. It would pick up and slow down suddenly at times, not to mention there are pauses in the music which needed you to count the tempo so you wouldn't come in late or early.

The added on challenge of having to do all that with a veil on was not fun, to say the least. All you've been doing the past week or so was trying to perfect these steps and making sure you were on beat while also ensuring you don't faint during the dance. The ceremony tomorrow night was opened to all citizens to attend. Thousands of eyes will be on you then and you don't intend on making a fool of yourself. What would the people think of their Messiah if you did?

The pressure was on. You needed to do well.

You sighed internally.

If only the veil wasn't part of the standard ceremonial uniform... It'll be one less thing to worry about without it.

Zephyr held up the veil between both of you, drawing your attention back to him and temporarily obscuring your view of his face "For you, Lady (y/n)," he started, a playful tone in his voice.

"Nothing is impossible." He lowered the veil, revealing his wide smile. You felt yourself tense up at his expression and you questioned your own body's reaction. You don't understand why but you suddenly feel uneasy and on edge. Something felt off about Zephyr. His tone was warm and his body language seemed relaxed but his smile looked...Sinister.

However, as quickly as that foreboding smile appeared, it disappeared just as fast from Zephyr's face. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." A warm smile graced his lips once more as he wiped a few stray beads of sweat from your cheek. "You should go back and rest now, Lady (y/n). It'll a tiring day for you tomorrow. Come." He took your hand and led you out of the practice hall, your veil grasped firmly in his other. You followed his lead and came to the entrance door to the hall.

Just as Zephyr's hand touched the wooden door handle, a knock came from behind it and the door opened inwards, nearly hitting Zephyr in the face. "Saint Zephyr." A dainty nun stepped into the hall as she called out, her voice soft and low. Her gaze flickered to you. "A-and the Messiah." She stuttered before bowing hastily to you.

"Yes, Sister Darlene?" Zephyr nodded at her greeting. You've met Sister Darlene a few times before when she needed Zephyr's opinion on some church related matters. From your memory, she was a shy and timid young nun, prone to stuttering and fumbling over her words. Though, you heard she has a knack for singing. Maybe you could befriend her. It'd be nice to have someone other than Zephyr to talk to. (Not that he wasn't good company or anything but some diversity is always good...right?)

"I-it's about tomorrow's transportation" Darlene fidgeted in place. Zephyr nodded, prodding her to continue as he fondled with your veil in his hand.. "S-shall we use the opened air carriage or the closed one?" Darlene asked, stealing a few short glances at you. Zephyr, however, seemed to be a bit preoccupied as he kept his gaze down while feeling out the veil. He roughly measured it using his hands as he replied nonchalantly. "The closed one."

Darlene nodded. "Then, s-shall I also inform the Ordo Concordiae? S-so they can post g-guards along our route?" You perked up at that mention. That's a name you haven't heard in a while. The Ordo Concordiae or the Order of Harmony was the name of the guards you worked for before becoming saint. it's been a while since you heard from them. Would they be present for tomorrow's ceremony too? Do...do they remember you?

Zephyr held up the veil before putting it on you once more. He adjusted it and you guessed he was taking some mental notes about the length of the veil in order to make modifications from the way he tilted your head side to side as he observed. "No need. The Royal guards will be on duty along the route tomorrow." He replied, not looking at Darlene.

You complied with Zephyr, letting him move your head around freely with the veil over your face. Through your obstructed view, you saw Darlene straightened her back before replying. "I see. I will go do the necessary arrangement then. Excuse me then, Saint Zephyr, Messiah." Darlene said as she bowed her head. You felt surprised. That was the first time you've heard Darlene speak so confidently and clearly.

Was she that eager to leave?

You held back a chuckle at the thought. Maybe you should find the time to get to know her.

"Of course, Sister Darlene." With that, she left the two of you alone. Zephyr was quiet as he looked at you. Despite the veil, he still seemed to be looking at you directly in the eyes.

"..."

After some silence, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Well, the part of the veil that covered your forehead. "Alright, let's get you back to your room now, Lady (y/n)." He pulled back and held your hand, leading you out of the hall and down the corridors of the temple.

You walked beside him as you reached up to take off the veil he forgot to remove from you. The moment your hand touched the fabric, Zephyr's hand shot up and grabbed yours, forcing it to a stop. You tilted you head in confusion.

Zephyr stopped in his steps and turned towards you, now holding both your hands in his. "In the case that I don't manage to get the necessary modifications done in time, you will still need to use this one at the ceremony, Lady (y/n)." He said as he readjusted the veil, making sure it was securely placed on your head. "Thus, i suggest you to always keep it on before your dance comes to pass. Let your body adjust to it so it won't strain you as much." He advised.

"Oh...I see." You didn't want to wear this annoying headpiece wherever you went but he made a good point. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Alright." You sighed, feeling defeated. "Good." Zephyr patted your head before continuing to lead the way.

You arrived in front of your room shortly after and Zephyr bid you farewell as you entered. The setting sun could be seen outside the window in your room. Its glow painting your room in a soft orange hue. You sighed as you walked over to your bed before limply flopping onto it. You buried your face in the sheets, smelling the light flora scent of the soap they used for cleaning emanating from it.

"..."

You did nothing as you laid on your stomach on the bed, basking in the silence. Your mind raced, thinking about tomorrow night. Two years ago, when you first arrived in Ebreau, you'd never thought you'd ever have the need to meet with the Royal family but now, not only was your presence going to be tomorrow night's highlight, you were going to perform for them too!

You groaned loudly into the sheets. The stress was getting to you. "Being Messiah is so difficult..." You mumbled, rubbing your face against the sheets as you coped with your anxiety.

However, the rough fabric of the veil prevented you from doing that too. You felt the sandy texture rubbed uncomfortably against your cheeks and nose. You huffed angrily as you reached up and yanked the veil off you. Throwing the golden headpiece onto the floor, you stuffed your face back into the sheets, actually feeling the softness of it this time.

The whole ordeal of shouldering the future of Ebreau as Messiah paired with the events of tomorrow night already gave you a big headache. You didn't need the extra challenge of wearing something so incredibly inconvenient!

Who came up with the idea of dancing with a veil on?!

"Stupid protocol making me dance like a monkey in a veil..." You clicked your tongue and complained. "How am I going to do this..." You sighed into the bed.

Your whole experience made you realised just how hard it was to be in a high position like this. How did Zephyr survive so many years being saint? It's only been a month since you became Messiah and you felt like you were going to break apart already.

You flipped over on the bed, facing the ceiling. "Calm down." You whispered to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on both cheeks to make yourself snap out of it. Complaining and stressing over it like this wasn't going to solve your problems. You just had to take it one step at a time.

Even if these steps were big strides.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself rest.

It'll be fine. You'll do fine.

You reassured yourself.

Zephyr's done it before so it's definitely possible. It has to be.

You thought, convincing yourself that dancing with the veil on won't kill you.

I just have to control my breathing and-“Believe only what thou sees, lamb.”

!!

You sprang up from the bed, frantically looking around your room for the source of the voice. You quickly recomposed yourself once you realised that it was Calerus that just spoke to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words.

What do you mean?

You thought in your mind.

“What goes unseen is but an illusion.”

Calerus' voice rumbled in your head once more. Even with his elaboration, it was still too vague for you to understand. You asked for more but you were met with silence. It seemed Calerus was done talking to you.

Believe in what I see? Is that what he means?

You tried to make sense of the god's words and why he said them but nothing clicked. In the midst of your pondering, a knock came from your bedroom door.

"I've brought your dinner, Lady (y/n)." Zephyr's familiar voice came from outside.

You pushed yourself onto your feet and went to the door, halting your wondering of the deity's warning.

That could wait for now.

It was dinner time.

~✟~

"Pardon?!" You let out as your eyes went wide. You had just woken up and were having a peaceful breakfast when Zephyr just broke the most ground shaking news to you. "We will be leaving for the Royal palace after you finished breakfast and get dressed." Zephyr repeated and you almost choked on your food.

"I thought we were going this afternoon! Isn't the ceremony tonight? Why are leaving now?!" You asked, feeling absolutely distraughted. You thought you still had the entire morning to prepare and calm yourself! That was why you got up so early in the first place!

"The ceremony is tonight, yes," Zephyr scooted his chair closer to you, patting your back as an effort to calm you down. "but you need to be meet with queen and prince so we need to go early before they get busy with welcoming guests." He explained.

"Won't I be meeting them tonight? Why do I need to go see them now?" You asked, perplexed by this turn of events and desperate to find a way to delay this meeting as much as possible. Zephyr looked down at the table, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence to you. "Tonight's ceremony is more of a show to the public than it is an official meeting, Lady (y/n)." You cocked your head to the side. "I don't understand..."

"Take it as the name suggests. A ceremony. All ceremonies are rehearsed beforehand so everyone involved knows what to do when the time comes." Zephyr explained as he ran a hand though your hair. "The real meeting between you and the Royal family is done in private with only you and them present." You felt like you were going to throw up from the stress.

Your plate was still relatively full but you've already lost your appetite after this reveal. You even requested for something nice and fancy to eat this morning to help with the nerves.

Guess it's all going to waste now.

"I..I'm full now." You mumbled and pushed the plate away. You got up from your seat but Zephyr grabbed onto your arm before you could take a step further. "But you've barely eaten anything, Lady (y/n)." He frowned.

"I don't feel like eating anymore." You admitted as you looked down, feeling guilty from wasting perfectly good food. Zephyr sighed as he stood up before taking you into a tight hug.

?

"You'll do great, Lady (y/n). Believe me." Zephyr whispered into your ear as he squeezed. Your eyes went wide in surprise at his words before slowly softening. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scene of Zephyr's robe wafted into your nose. It smelt of petrichor, calming and refreshing.

"Thank you..." You mumbled, feeling better.

A pair of lips pressed the top of your head as you felt Zephyr leaned down. You sighed softly.

No matter how tough it gets, you know you'll always have Zephyr.

~✟~

The sound of cheering was deafening outside of the carriage. Looking out the carriage window, you saw lines upon lines of people standing beside the road, jumping and waving with big smiles on their faces. You waved back, trying your best to ensure no one is ignores or left out (though it was impossible with the amount of people present).

Horses pulled your carriage along the cobblestone road, their neighs occasionally penetrating the cheers and yells of the crowd, reaching your ears within your ride. Nuns and monks led the procession towards the Royal palace, walking in front while holding various chimes and bells that you've never seen before. The ringing of these instruments accompanied the way as if they were some sort of beat to follow.

Zephyr sat across from you, gazing out the window too with a soft smile on his lips. He stayed silent, letting you take in the adoration the people of Ebreau wanted to show you. His hair was tied up in a ponytail (he did that a lot ever since your accidental compliment on it) and his bangs fluttered gently from the breeze blowing into the carriage.

"Miss Messiah!"

In the midst of the dissonant voices, a certain call, low but clear shot through the air and caught your attention. The familiar pitch urged your curiosity to look for the source. And so you looked. Near the back of the crowd, a man, taller than the rest, stood out as he yelled again with a hand beside his mouth.

"Thank you!"

It was faint but you could make out his words. His structure seemed familiar. Squinting your eyes, you honed in on his face.

!

It was Mr. Citris!

Grinning, Mr. Citris looked beside him with a finger pointed at you. A person stood at his side, though their smaller frame causes them to be blocked by the people in front, besides from the top of their blond head, you could not see any other features. From your faraway position, you saw Mr. Citris spoke to the person beside him before bending down and picking them up.

A young girl came into view as Mr. Citris held her by her waist and lifted her up in front of him. A bashful flush spread across the young girl's face, seemingly embarrassed by her father's antics. The two exchanged a few more words before the girl eventually turned towards you. She waved with a smile.

The realisation finally dawned on you and you almost slapped yourself for being so slow.

That girl is Mr. Citris' daughter!

The girl's complexion was light but not sickly. Her smile was small yet bright. She looked...Well. Mr. Citris must have use the gold coins to buy the medicine. Even then, the medicine doesn't cure her, only slows down and eases the pain which means...She went out of her way to come see you despite her condition.

A warmth spread through your chest. The thought that you successfully helped someone, even just a little bit, was just the affirmation you needed.

Maybe you weren't hopeless.

You waved back, hoping they would see your reaction and how happy you were that things worked out. You smiled, grinned even.

Ah, wait.

They can't see you smile.

They can't see your face at all.

The veil swayed gently in front of your face following the shaking of the carriage.

The joy you felt a moment ago dissipated as quickly as it arrived. You deflated like a balloon but you waved back nonetheless (albeit somewhat dispiritedly).

Your carriage eventually passed the pair and they disappeared into the crowd. Your vision was once again filled with never-before-seen faces of strangers and your ears flooded with their unfamiliar yells.

Everything had been new to you when you were promoted to Messiah. New lifestyle, new responsibilities, new outlook, the list goes on. For this procession, you had hoped to find some familiarity, some remnant of the past to remind you that you weren't always Messiah, that not long ago you were among these crowds of people.

But looking at the sea of people, you didn't even see any guards in black uniform, guards of the Ordo Concordiae, your colleagues. They were perhaps the closest people you could call family in this place (as messed up as it is considering they basically forced you to work for them) yet you could only see white.

White of the uniforms of the Royal guards.

They stood along the road, ensuring no one cause trouble for the procession towards the palace, holding back any who dared to get too close. You continued to greet the onlookers albeit less enthusiastically.

"...Lady (y/n)."

Your head snapped towards Zephyr after he broke his silence. "Let us talk." You cocked your head to the side, confused by his sudden request. He drew the blinds to the window, isolating the both of you from the outside. “What is it?” You suddenly felt uneasy. Darkness shrouded the carriage but a few rays of light came through the gaps, illuminating Zephyr's face. His face was expressionless and lacking of warmth, unbefitting of his usual demeanour.

“…” He remained quiet and it agitated you further. Zephyr moved from his seat across from you to beside you, facing some difficulty standing up straight due to the low ceiling of the carriage. He shuffled to your side of the carriage and sat down. Your eyes followed him as he turned to you.

“…” He was still silent, his gaze dropping down towards the ground.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on your forehead. Seeing Zephyr so quiet and emotionless was concerning if not alarming. “Zephyr?” You called out, leaning in closer until you came into his peripheral, hoping that would finally catch his attention and prompt him to say what was on his mind.

He finally looked back up before reaching over to you. He grasped onto the hem of your veil and lifted it, revealing your golden eyes to him. “You’re worrying me, Zephyr. What is it?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You grabbed onto Zephyr’s hands that were still holding your veil. “Why are you taking it off?” Zephyr simply shook his head and let go but not before making sure it wouldn’t fall back down and cover your face.

“I just…want to see your face, Lady (y/n). Just for a bit.” Zephyr explained, a small smile finally gracing his lips. You frowned, not convinced it was as simple as that. He took a breath before finally speaking. “Lady (y/n), no matter what happens when you meet with the queen and prince later,” He held your hands in his. “Please remember you’re already doing your best."

You blinked. “…What?”

Zephyr pulled you close and embraced you, pressing your head against his chest. He stroked your hair gently. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest, slow and steady. It'd even be calming if it weren't for the current situation. “You don’t have to fix every problem this kingdom has.” You looked up from his chest, eyes swirling with confusion. You pushed yourself off him. Zephyr doesn’t stop you but his arms remain in a loose hug around you.

“What does that mean?” Zephyr sighed and closed his eyes. “…The politics of Ebreau is more complicated than you think, Lady (y/n).” He reopened his eyes and his purple irises stared back into your golden ones. Unlike his, your heart was pounding inside of you, threatening to burst from the stress but you pushed on, knowing this was important. You had to know more. “Tell me then. Shouldn’t I know how this country functions if I am to guide its people?” You pestered for him to elaborate. You unconsciously gripped onto his robe, tensed about what he’ll say. Just how many more challenges were you going to face?

Zephyr’s hands went up to your face and cupped your cheeks. He leaned down, shortening the gap between both your faces. “The relationship between the royal family and the temple…isn’t as great as it seems.” Zephyr confessed. The cheering outside continued on even after your retreat into the carriage but right now, you wished it would stop so you could have some silence to process this information. You tried your best to respond. “What…what happened?”

Zephyr let go of your face before peeking out the blinds. You looked out the small opening between the blinds and windows over his shoulder. The people continued to celebrate the procession outside, their voices not appearing to die down any time soon. He readjusted the blinds and blocked out the people once more. He took a deep breath.

“Things started to get messy 3 years ago. After the war with the Casvians began." Zephyr recalled. "As with all wars, the kingdom has suffered many losses from this ordeal, including but not limited to economic downfalls and disharmony among its people." You nodded. That makes sense...But how did that cause the deterioration of the relationship between the temple and the Royal family?

"Much of Ebreau's money and resources have been sent to the front line in the northeast to aid in the battle with Casviren. The Royal family only has so much money to spare now and they cannot effort to spend it on unnecessary groups or organisations." He fidgeted in his place. It was clear this was a sensitive and top secret topic. You could see glints of worry reflected in his eyes as he spoke. Zephyr was afraid of this information being leaked to the public.

"The temple maintains the people's belief in our Lord, Calerus, ensuring their undying loyalty to him. A common religion fosters unity and reduces dispute among the people as everyone shares the same principle and belief." Zephyr elaborated. You processed his words, keeping your head bowed in thought before asking. "So, basically, the temple is responsible for keeping the peace among the citizens?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it." A smile graced Zephyr's lips, easing the tension in the air. "But many tragedies have occurred. Much blood has been spilled and even more tears have been shed. The war has raged on for too long and too fiercely. It has made a grave impact on the people, not just economically but also spiritually." He sighed. "They are starting to lose faith. Some even believe Calerus has abandoned Ebreau." Zephyr played with your hair. It appeared unfitting of the situation at first but looking at how he was rubbing and pinching the tip of it instead of twirling it like how he usually does, you guessed he was doing it out of anxiety and not playfulness.

Your mind spun as you tried to piece together the information. You never knew the beliefs of Ebreauans were waning. Have you just not been out and about enough? Surely not. You ran errands everyday for the past 2 years. You were always outside and mixing with the folks. Then that means either you're an unobservant idiot or you've never seen Ebreau when it was still prosperous.

The war started 3 years ago and you only got dropped here 2 years ago. 1 year may not be enough to put a dent, economy wise in a kingdom as wealthy as Ebreau but you don't doubt it's enough to instill fear and cause hysteria among the people.

Perhaps you've never seen the true glory of Ebreau.

Perhaps you've jumbled the chaos with the mundane.

Perhaps this madness has become your normal.

"The temple is losing influence, is that what you're saying?" You muttered and, to your dismay despite expecting it, Zephyr nodded. "Our Lord, Calerus," he sighed, "is no longer a tie that binds the nation together." He looked away before closing his eyes. "We no longer have the means to maintain the peace like we used to." It hurt him to admit this.

"..." You were deep in thought and thankfully, Zephyr was more than willing to give you space to process everything.

People are scared and confused. The war with the Casvians has gone on for 3 years already and currently, it still shows no signs of stopping. The commonfolks are grasping at anyone and anything for guidance in this desperate time. They look towards those in charge, in this case, the Royal family and the temple for assurance and direction, for a spark of hope that they will get through this. But when that fails...

It's not going to end well for the higher ups.

Zephyr took a deep breath and continued. "The palace considers us inept and are an extra weight that burdens them when they already have so much on their hands." The carriage rattled as it went over, what you assume to be, a rock. "Communication between the temple and palace has decreased to when absolutely necessary over the years and collaborations happen only to uphold the act that Ebreau is co-ruled by the temple and royal family." He explained further.

"I..." Zephyr paused midsentence and your breath hitched, awaiting what terrible news he will relay on you next. "I expect them to cut ties with us soon." You suppressed the urge to jump out the carriage this instant and run back to the temple-no, back to the small, little house you rented before you became Messiah. Before everything went haywire.

You buried your face into your hands. This was all too much. It went from bad to worse to horrible. It's been a constant downward spiral these back few days.

Don't cry, (y/n). Don't cry.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you towards their chest. Zephyr hugged you as he caressed you. His hand going up and down your back as he comforted. "I'm sorry to burden you with so much, Lady (y/n)." You felt him gripping onto your clothes. "I don't expect you to fix these problems. They've been festering for too long." He kissed your head.

"Maybe this country is already beyond salvation."

Your hands felt weak and fell from your face as he murmured into your ear. This kingdom... Ebreau... Your home...

How do you save it?

~✟~

The palace was just in view as the horses trotted closer, leading the carriage from the cobblestone road of the central town to the tiled pathway within the castle compound. Royal guards dressed in their white uniforms continued to stand guard beside the pathway just as they did when you were still on the streets of the central town. However, now with the revelation that people from the palace have a sour (to put it nicely) relationship with the temple, the blank stares of these men felt a lot more menacing and frightening than they previously were.

You met eyes with a certain guard on duty beside the pathway and it could be paranoia speaking but you swore there was ill intent behind those eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you quickly adverted your eyes to elsewhere.

Zephyr was still seated next to you, not moving despite already finished telling you the situation with the Royal family. You didn't mind though, you needed the emotional support for what was about to come.

The palace was mostly white in colour, its roof golden and its doors wooden but painted with silver, so were the window frames. As you inched closer, you could make out figures standing in front of the main entrance.

You gulped.

The carriage came to a stop. Zephyr stepped out first before holding his hand out for you to take. You slowly reached over, scooting towards the open door before stepping down the steps of the carriage, your hand in his.

Your heart was racing and you mentally counted to yourself before lifting your head to meet the gazes of the people before you.

“Messiah, we are so delighted that you’re here.” A silky and smooth voice poured from the mouth of the woman in front of you. The woman had light brown hair, done up into a side bun which hung low and near to her face. She wore a light blue gown, embellished with white pearls and clear crystals around the waist and also the skirt of the gown. She smiled, a few wrinkles appearing around the corners of her ruby eyes. “I am Marika Sinnyala.” She introduced herself, leaving out her title.

Queen.

Marika held up her hand and gestured to the person standing beside her. A younger man, tall and slim. He wore a uniform similar to the royal guards except his was silver, not white and there were some black embroidery around the collar. He had the same red eyes and a face resembling hers albeit it was more masculine. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was and what his relationship with Marika is.

“This is my dear son, Xion Sinnyala.”

The prince strode over, his white hair bouncing gently on his head. A mark of royalty as some would say. As was gold the colour of the divine, white was the colour of royalty. The Sinnyala family had ruled Ebreau for centuries alongside the temple. A striking characteristic of the Sinnyalas were their white as snow hair. It’s speculated that that’s why white symbolises royalty. It wouldn’t be far fetched that as time went on, Ebreauans associated that colour with power and luxury. Most past rulers of the kingdom had that colour of hair after all.

Even the late king.

Xion stopped right in front of you. He reached for your hand, grabbing onto it as he leaned down. His touch was feathery light, you could barely feel it.

It was almost as if he was avoiding touching you.

You resisted the urge to pull your hand back as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His other hand rested behind his back. To outsiders, it may have appeared as a friendly gesture. A greeting from a prince to a maiden. Gentlemanly and almost fairytale like. You admit. Something like this, normally would get your heart racing and cheeks flushing.

But Xion, he was staring right at you as he did so.

The mother and son pair may share the same coloured eyes but Queen Marika’s were soft and friendly as she greeted you. Prince Xion, on the other hand, his eyes were piercing and fierce, his gaze felt like a glare. His actions seemed gentle and welcoming but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

You suddenly felt grateful for the veil you were wearing as your lips trembled.

His soft lips finally left your skin but he did not stand back up. Still in a bowed position, his voice, low and crisp, sounded.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Messiah.”

Another voice echoed from within the deep chambers of your mind at the same time, almost overlapping with the prince’s.

“Beware the Heretics.”

~✟~

Ahhhh done! Finally! This chapter was so hard to write since it was less action and more lore heavy. But finally it’s done! I was supposed to get this up yesterday but my body straight up went “hey wouldn’t it be funny to make her sick?” So yeah. That kinda slowed me down a bit. Sorry and thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Ps: I decided to change the colour for Messiah from blue to orange since it suited better so I’ll go back and change the ones in previous chapters afterwards. Oh and again, any errors you find, let me know so I can correct them!

~

Taglist

@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan @avyannasstuff @justabratsworld @m0chilattae @sirenetheblogger @rosesunderthegarden @party-9 @waywardstardustcollector @crnnbrry-blog @iamapotatoe @altumsomnum @liesatemyocean @tired-of-life-86 @takottai @alexatiu

please tell me if I missed anyone!

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is That?: Alpine

Summary: Y/N goes back to work, and comes across a curious creature on her way home.

Bucky Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Thank you for today, Y/N," her manager smiled, as Y/N packed up the last of her belongings.

"That's alright," Y/N replied, setting her bag on her shoulder.

Just as her manager was going to say something else, the phone started to ring in its cradle. "I'll see you Thursday," her manager waved and picked up the phone.

Y/N left the shop and made her way down the street. She had always been a fast walker (thanks to the height of Bucky, she always had to run to catch him up). She weaved her way in and out of pedestrians.

Considering she was small as well, it also made it easier to avoid people and their bags.

As she stood at the crossing, waiting for the signal to cross. She spotted a little girl standing next to her, staring up at her with large eyes. "Hello."

The little girl's mother looked downtown her daughter then at Y/N. "I'm sorry, it's not often she stares at people like this."

Y/N shakes her head. "No, she's OK. There must be something about me she is curious about," she tells her, making sure she had her balance and crouched down in front of the little girl. "Are you alright?"

All of a sudden, the little girl had gone very shiny as she grabbed a hold of her mother's coat and looked down at her shoes.

The two women chuckled as Y/N stood back up.

"What's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at the engagement ring.

"Thats my engagement ring," Y/N told the little girl. "My husband gave me this, and he told me he wants to spend the rest of his life with me."

"The rest of your life with one person?" The little girl looked up at her.

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, and I told him I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and we got married."

Y/N was nearly home, as it had just started raining, when the sounds of meowing stopped her in her tracks.

She looked around and caught sight of a box moving in a nearby alleyway. "What on Earth?" She made her way down the alleyway to the upturned box and revealed a very young cat.

She didn't know what kind of despicable person would drop a cat so young to find for itself in the freezing cold rain. She could only hope it hadn't been sitting outside all that long, as its fur was nearly pristine white, but it was so skinny.

"Hello," she cooed, crouching down, holding her hand out to the kitten. The creature took a few cautious steps forward, taking many sniffs of Y/N's fingers. The cat must have thought she was trustworthy enough and pushed her head underneath Y/N's fingers.

Y/N cooed over the little kitten, making a fuss over the cat before eventually being able to scoop her up into her arms. The kitten made a little bit of a protest, only to be soothed by cuddles.

"Right," she says to the kitten. "Let's go home."

Usually, Bucky would be waiting for her in their apartment, but he had been pulled away for an important mission with Sam and wouldn't be come until the early hours of the morning.

Well, that is what she was expecting.

She was in the middle of giving the kitten a soap bath when a key was put into the lock, and the door opened.

"Doll?" Bucky called, not seeing his wife sat on the sofa watching her TV shows. "Doll, where are you?"

"James?" Y/N looked over her shoulder to where she could see her husband setting his heavy gear down. She looked between her husband and the kitten and then back at Bucky. "What are you doing home, I thought you wouldn't get back until the early hours."

Bucky walked around the corner and into the kitchen and finally saw what his wife was doing. "Doll?" She replied with a hum. "What is that?"

"What's what?" She sometimes played dumb, just to wind him up a little.

"Don't play this game with me, doll," Bucky walked over to her, so he was nearly plastered to her side. He lifted a vibranium finger. "This creature in your hands."

She stopped her scrubbing and looked down at the kitten. "I found her."

"You found her?"

"Mmhm."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at his wife. "And where did you find this cat?"

Y/N turned her head to look at him. "In a cardboard box, in an alleyway, block from here."

Bucky looked from his wife to the young cat in her hands and then back at his wife again. "Are you sure this isn't someone's pet?" In response to this, Y/N rinsed off the soap from the kitten and lifted her to show Bucky. Despite the kitten's white coat, the poor thing was practically skin and bones. "Bloody hell," this was something he had picked up from the war.

"We have to keep her, James."

Bucky sighed looking between his wife and the cat. He could see by the look in his wife's eyes and the way the cat is currently licking her hand - they had already bonded, and there was no separating them.

"Alright, doll. I'll go get some food and some dishes for..." he trailed off, waiting for his wife to fill in the gap for the kitten's name.

"Why would you guess I have..." she was now the one to trail off as Bucky was looking at her expectantly. "Alpine."

Bucky blinked a few times. "After the Alpine Ridge, I fell from?"

"No! First of all, I didn't not know that is where you fell. And secondly, the box I found her had a silhouette of a mountain range on it, and I remembered Steve talking about a mission you once went to during the war. He never told me it was the one you fell from."

Bucky nodded. "OK, doll. I shall go get Miss Alpine some wet food, immediately," he presses a kiss to her cheek and makes his way to leave their apartment. "And what have I told you about calling me James?"

"I shall call you James as much as you call me doll."

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

I Don't Mind

💞doodle and a drabble💞

Ghost x Reader

Ghost didn't think you'd like his scars...

SFW, Fluff, light Hurt & Comfort, First Kiss, Soft!Ghost, Drabble, Intimacy, Tooth-rotting sweetness, just a stupid little thing :v

Scarcely Proofread 😏

Masterlist

He thought the scars would bother you. He wouldn't blame you if they had. They were ugly and jagged and numerous in all its unwanted glory, telling tales which taste more bitter on the Brit's tongue each time he retold them. The few times he has.

For awhile he hadn't wanted you to see them. Simon's never been a self-concious man, though your opinion had been held so highly that the slightest look of disdain could truly ruin his day. He hadn't been ashamed to say he feared your reaction. How your eyes would move or what your lips would tell him after. If it would turn you loose or change your view of him entirely, twisting into something fragile or ugly.

If he could avoid the entire thing altogether he would; Simon's always been content with the little gestures as is, having lived off them for so long. He knew not to push his luck and beg for more than his life seemed fit for.

All the small things had been enough. That faint sensation of you against his arm when you sat beside him during briefings. The smile you'd give him at the end of a long day. Your hands which delicately took his in your lap the first chance you ever could gather the courage to do it. He enjoyed every bit of you in every way. But your lips have been the furthest thing from him for too long now, and he knew once this step was made, the rest would be easier.

He just needed to take that step.

You stood before him, hands rested gently at the corners of his masks, as his tentative grasp clasped over your wrist as though to safeguard you. Keeping you just out of reach.

"Don't want to spook ya, love," he jests, often finding small comforts in his humor. It helped to soften the blow. "Just felt I should warn you first... about the scars I mean..."

He looks away from you, his brown eyes more fixated on his shoes than your gaze. You merely smiled, letting your body step closer to his, until the man had no choice but to bring his back to you.

Rather than answer him, you pinch the ends of his mask and slowly lift the fabric, letting it pass the stubble on his chin, and then his lips as well, before the tip of his nose has revealed itself to you, your fingers letting the mask rest there for now. Baby steps.

Simon watches you observe him, your eyes noticing the scars he figured you would first. The big ones. The ugly ones. He kept his expression still and his eyes focused the entire time, as to not reveal to you how nerve-wracking your final verdict had been to him.

A smirk then curves on your lips. "I like them."

Simon can't help but huff out a little chuckle at that. "You like them?"

You nod. "It gives character. And I think they make you look hot."

Now you've gone and made the man laugh entirely. No doubt there had been more truth to your statement than on the surface; it had been immediately relieving to hear, all the same.

"Now your just takin' the piss," he said.

You pout and begin to protest. "Am not."

You feel Simon's hands slowly wrap over your waist, his thumb resting comfortably at the grooves of your hips like handles. He uses them to pull you closer, until he's felt your body brush up against his and your breath tickle the skin against his neck. With his blond lashes looking down at you sultry like, he's already thought of all the different ways to take your mouth with his and truly make it his own. He hadn't realized how long he'd been waiting for this.

"You truly don't mind?" he asked.

"I don't mind at all."

Simon smiles. And, no longer able to keep himself back, the man leans in, until he's felt the tip of his nose brush your own. Your lashes feather his cheeks lightly, your soft lips only a breath away. With his tone low, rumbling through the air to you in a husky way, he says, "Lucky me."

He kisses you slowly, making sure that each second meant something more to him every time it's passed. As his lips familiarize the shape of yours, tasting you and growing used to his own mouth being used so delicately, Simon felt like a fool for waiting so long to do so in the first place.

💞💕💞

[nerdlingmerchling]

Jesper and Dima : a Wesper Essay

I feel like we, as a Fandom, don't speak enough about that scene. Perhaps, it's because we know that Wesper is end-game and we can't see Jesper with anyone else than Wylan. Also, we might think that the purpose of that scene is only to establish Jesper as a queer character, and as a "player" who lives in the moment and has a string of anonymous hookups. HOWEVER, I'll argue that this scene has, in fact, everything to do with Wesper and reveals a lot more about Jesper as a character, about his aspirations, than we might give it credit for.

First of all, for what's supposed to be the aftermath of a "meaningless" quickie between strangers, this scene is incredibly tender. Jesper is being so earnest and gentle; in the way he speaks ; the way he kisses Dima goodbye, the way he touches his face, like he wants to imprint it in his memory. There's real emotion there ; real care, however fleeting.

But the true impact of that scene is in the way Jesper looks at Dima (props to Kit's acting there. We love you, Kit). There is so much longing in Jesper's eyes: it's plain to see, and almost painful to watch. He's probably not longing for Dima himself ; they haven't known each other long enough, but he's longing for a meaningful connection, something of lasting substance ; for companionship...for love. Jesper knows and understands that this wasn't meant to be (he says so himself). And yet, there's grief in the way he watches Dima leave. Why? BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME THIS HAPPENS TO HIM.

It's not the first time Jesper has a lover walk out on him. For him, watching Dima go is exactly like waking up alone after his first night with Wylan : it's the rejection and the sudden severing of a bond that barely had time to form. I'm going to quote my friend Ras :"Jesper is having war flashbacks" and yes, that's exactly what this is. Maybe he's not specifically thinking about Wylan in that instant, but that kind of hurt and disappointment is still a familiar feeling to him.

Yes, of course, Jesper is a flirt. Yes, of course he loves sex. And there's something enjoyable, exciting, and thrilling for him when he engages in impromptu sexual encounters with strangers, but Jesper is also someone who's deeply insecure and in constant need of validation. When his lovers walk out on him, he can't help but feel unlovable: good enough for a shag, but not good enough to keep around. What he truly wants is for someone to care about him: truly, deeply, meaningfully. But it's easier for his self-esteem to jump from one hook up to the next, because at the end of the day, he can tell himself he chose this lifestyle. When Wylan reminds him of his "reputation", saying "I thought someone like you wouldn't want anything more ", Jesper doesn't contradict him, but he's still stung by those words. Jesper is a player who doesn't really want to be one. At his core, this is not him. It's just a self-defense mechanism.

I feel like his brief time with Dima was sort of a tipping point for Jesper. He had no choice but to acknowledge the longing and the need for something more.

And then there's Wylan. To be able to reconnect with a past lover was an unexpected second chance for Jesper ; a wink from Lady Luck. He wasn't going to give up so easily this time.

In other words, Jesper/Dima walked so Jesper/Wylan could run. So I'm grateful for that scene in season one, which might seem inconsequential and gratuitous at first glance, but truly isn't.

Thanks for your attention.

[kaciidubs]

i’ve come back a lot sooner than i expected 🤭 hear me out.. 9th maknae member reader (skz) x Mingi (ateez) 🤯 Reader and mingi have been in a secret relationship for at least a year and both Companies are preparing on announcing their relationship to the public/fans. (it gets better 😼)

Both groups: (ateez + stray kids) don’t know that they’re dating 😱 The boys arranged a massive sleepover for both groups to hangout and reader gets really hot and bothered by mingi teasing her the whole night. They end up excusing themselves (sneakily) and they have the most mind blowing sex ever. All of the other boys over hear and were shocked 🤯 They act like nothing happened as they didn’t want to assume they were dating but later on at an award show it was finally announced that Mingi and Reader were dating. Skz boys went crazy and was practically babying their precious maknae 🫶🏻

kaci my favourite writer 🥰

(p.s sorry for how long this is 💀)

This one's been sitting for a while, mainly because it's already a wonderful thought as is! So, here's just a few thoughts to expand on it~ ❣ Warnings: 9th Member! Reader + Song Mingi [Ateez], smut, fluff, slight humor ❣ ❣ Additional tags: essentially a crossover for Staytiny all around the world~

While the rest of the members were in the living room, you would be bent over the bathroom sink with Mingi giving his all in rearranging your guts in the most quick yet efficient way possible - though, that way didn't include him being the quietest while doing so.

"Mm, jesus, fuck-"

"Mingi, be quiet."

You'd think he was the one currently getting his guts rearranged from the way he struggled to contain his moans, leading you to shoot him a warning glare through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"We might as well go and fuck in front of them if you're going to be this loud!" You seethed with a hushed scold, gripping the edge of the counter to keep your balance with his unwavering thrusts.

You could only hope that your combined groups were too occupied with the movie they were watching to notice you and Mingi missing.

Sharp eyes locked onto your own through the mirror, a sideways smirk stretching his lips, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? It's not like they don't suspect it anyways." Snapping his hips forward, he continued, "We can just give them a nudge in the right direction."

Biting back a moan, you dropped your head between your shoulders to focus on the orgasm he'd been teasing you toward since he arrived at your shared dorm; subtle grazes and risque touches keeping you wound up and ready for anything.

A hand found its way around your throat, pulling your body up at an angle so that your gaze met his once more; captivating and hypnotizing, yet still filled with a love that had you falling for him all over again.

"I love you," the words fell from his lips with ease, honest and true, "and I don't want to keep hiding it."

You were, too - he knew that better than anyone, and having to hide it not only from the world, but your band members, the closest people you have, had been eating you both up since day one.

Gripping his forearm, you nodded softly, "I love you too, baby - just a little l-longer to go."

His lips curled into a smirk before driving into you with a newfound fervor.

Neither of you would catch the knowing side eyes or smug smirks of your members when you each returned separately to the living room to catch whatever remained of the movie.

The 'little longer' would eventually come during an award show, with the thoroughly discussed plan between your managers and PR team of revealing the relationship to everyone during a collaborative performance.

Part of it was Mingi's plan to do a performance together, but with the way your schedules aligned, you figured doing it live as opposed to uploading it on youtube was the easier choice.

With the stage - quite literally - set, you and Mingi performed your arduously practiced routine in front of your fellow artists and hundreds of screaming fans, and as the song came to an end the moment you've been waiting for was upon you.

Getting ready for the ending pose, Mingi pulled you into his side and pressed a loving kiss to your temple, while you hugged him with a dazzling smile to the camera focused on you both - and to say the reactions were worth it would've been an understatement.

The wild screams of your colleagues and fans was enough to pierce through your earpiece, and shooting a glance into the idol space you could see all eight of your members going absolutely insane - sneaking a glance to the Ateez table to see almost a mirrored reaction.

Leaving the stage to take off your earpieces and mic packs, the return to the Stray Kids table was nothing short of a spectacle as Changbin swiftly wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

"You think you can just go off and get a boyfriend without telling us?! You're too young!"

"Innie and I are literally just a few months apart," you laughed, trying to pull away from his partial choke hold.

"Yeah, a few months too many! You're our baby!" Jisung all but wailed, squeezing your cheeks much to your dismay.

Seungmin scoffed, "The fact that we knew and you're still acting like this? Hyunjin's dramatics is rubbing off on you."

"Wait- You knew?!"

"It's not like the two of you were the sneakiest..." Minho's nonplussed tone made a wave of embarrassment wash over you, the memory of the movie night quickly dawning. "Plus, trying to hide anything from Wooyoung is like trying to limit yourself to one of Felix's brownies - it's impossible. Changbin hasn't stopped talking about their theories since they first started scheming."

Managing to untangle yourself from Changbin's hold, you found Chris standing in front of you now, a firm expression on his face.

"Are you happy?"

You could hear the lingering, unspoken words behind his question and you offered him a gentle smile, nodding, "I am, I really am."

Face brightening with his signature smile, he pulled you into a quick hug, squeezing tightly, "Good, because you're definitely telling us how everything started between you two, later."

Separating to go back to your unassigned assigned seats - with a few words of congratulations from Felix and Hyunjin - you looked across the aisle to catch Mingi already staring at you, his lips pulled into a proud smile while the rest of his members gave you teasing, yet supportive, cheers.

[unedited]

[megistusdiary]

https://www.tumblr.com/megistusdiary/747247765493563392/omg-new-pfp-era?source=share

Um. Yes please??? 🗣️🗣️🗣️

okay so consider kitty!arlecchino with lynette. and she's trying to teach lynette how to stalk and capture prey.

obviously, we're talking targets, not really mice and rabbits, but it's easier to capture a cat's attention that way. so, arlecchino dolls you up in cute little mouse ears and a pretty little dress.

she has you run around in the forest, leaving little trails as she teaches lynette how to follow scents and look for signs of your target. unbeknownst to you, arlecchino had other plans from the start.

this demonstration practically ended the moment you all stepped foot in the woods. once you're out of sight, she's quickly sending lynette back to the house while she finishes her hunt with you.

and when she finds you leaning on a tree, panting and adjusting the cute little mouse ears, her eyes narrow, lips quirking up.

(nsfw utc)

she moves closer, silently before brushing her lips over your ear. "i caught you," she whispers, grabbing your shoulders just to feel you jump.

soon enough, she's pulled you up into her arms, your dress hiked up, panties pulled to the side as you clutch onto her tightly.

when you tell her you're afraid she'll drop you, she merely laughs, pointed teeth on display. her ears flick, tail waving and hitting your exposed thigh with its softness.

she promises she wouldn't drop a sweet little thing like you, no, she would savor every last drop.

and when she unbuttons her pants, revealing the strap she's been hiding, she delights in the way you squirm in her hold. her claws lightly poke your thighs, a reminder to behave if you don't want her to drop you!

soon enough, she's spearing you onto her strap, enjoying your little whimpers of discomfort from the stretch, clawing at her shoulders with your cute human nails.

she'll reprimand you while she fucks you, telling you how easy it was to find you. how she could smell your leaky cunt, hear your soft breathing, how you got tired of running too easily for her.

despite it all, she loves how pretty and pliant you are for her, a willing demonstration for her to use for her own needs. she's pleased with herself, having tricked you into believing you were helping teach her children, all to end up cumming on her cock :(