#till the time comes... when i can live without spoiler warnings

[leal-hound]

me and the bad bitch i pulled by having the same trauma

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

One hell of a team | In-ho x Wife!Reader |

Summary: You will follow your husband anywhere.

Warnings: S2 Spoilers - Violence - Different back story for In-ho - Blood - Death - Use of (Y/N) - Reader gets called "love" -

The Frontman, the man with the most power within the island, to who the guards obey without question.

Was currently trembling under his wife pointed look.

"You want to enter the games?" You asked him, your tone cold and almost jugdmental.

In-ho calmed himself down. It was an idea that stayed with him after the death of the Chairman and even more with how player 456 had insisted the last two years in finding them. He had played before and won, he knew how terrible others could be, he had walked out like a new man, used the money for himself and you. Never really gave much thought on how many lives were lost.

But, for some reason he wanted to go again.

"Im going with you"

His glass of wishky fell onto the floor, the loud crash did nothing to bother you while you ate.

"No, thats not happening. I need you here to control the games and guards" In-ho started trying to get a valid reason to why you defenetly should not come.

"Oh, you need me to? Well I need you here. With me. With our family. How do you think I would do seeing you there ? I still remember how you got when you came back from these the first time"

"That was different" The Frontman said taking a deep breath "I wont be just one more player, it will be like when the Chairman went in"

"That still does not ease my mind" (Y/N) responded "Till death do us a part and follow you anywhere" you recited showing him your weeding ring. "Remember?"

In-ho felt his chest got thight at the sight and the memory of the small yet full of love weeding you two had back when life was more simple.

"Alright, you can come with me. Its not like you would wait for my approval" he responded smiling at the end "But no one must know that we are married, you understand that ?" He added now serious

"Of course, its what makes more sense, we will just casually meet there and see how it plays" You nodded to him "And please, better clean up that glass before someone steps on it"

"On it, love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

For the most part pretending not to know each other was easier than expected. While you knew the guards knew who you two were you were still a bit scared. Specially during the green and red light, since both of you had got separated and now you were froze in your spot.

"You need to move" In-ho said from behind his arm playing along "Follow me in the next sing, alright? Just take my hand"

"Im scared, im sorry" You said feeling guilty over wanting to be there with him and starting to fail on the first game no less.

"I know, I was too. But im here, just follow me"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

You had to hide your smirk when he pressed the circle to go on with the games, you knew he would do it just to piss off Player 456 and make things more cahotic.

He went with the rest and stood besides you trying himself not to smile at you.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The first approach to Gi-huns team was tense to say the least. You two had voted circle and even worse In-ho had been the vote that ended the tie.

But with his own charisma and yours you two got to be on his good side.

Till In-ho decided to talk, really you sometimes forgot who sassy he could be.

"And some picked umbrella?" He asked faking suprise when he had seen it on first hand. "Most of them died I assume"

You could see the look on player 456 and decided to be more sensitive

"Hey, dont be like that. Im sure they went in blind and did not know what it was about" You said keeping a safe distance so no one would think you two were together or knew each other before the games.

In-ho was having too much fun.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

That first night they both were in their respective beds. Still keeping their false relationship. However once (Y/N) was sure all were asleep she went towards In-ho who was awake like he knew she would be coming to him.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a whisper, worried that for her this would be too much.

"Im fine, I wanted to see if you were fine"

He nodded not saying a thing but taking her hand.

"Also, I saw you break that fight, really ? When did you even learn to do that ?" This made him smile and hold her hand thighter "Really! I only see you in your office all the time"

"You think I would come in here without knowing how to defend myself or you?"

She smiled at him, blushing in the dark. "No....I just thought all you did was be in your office and give orders"

In-ho rolled his eyes "Just wait till we are out of here, i will show you just how fit im"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The six legs game was both a chaos and funny. Honeslty you could not help yourself on hugging him and player 456 (who was slowly getting on your soft side) as you saw a team win.

However the shoots that came for these who did not survive were too much. You would swear In-ho gave the guards a cold stare because you would flinch sometimes.

"Hey, dont worry they wont shoot the ones who havent played" Player 456 reassured you with a calm tone

You nodded, knowing that even if you lost they wont shoot you or In-ho. It was still sweet to see him trying to calm you down.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Not a word" He said during the night when you two were able to talk again.

"I was not going to say a thing, but you did in on purpose or were you really missing ?"

In-ho closed his eyes knowing you would later get the recording of him missing during the game and use it against him.

"It was all planned" he said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

"Whatever you say Honey"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The game of making pairs gave you nausea because of the carousel kept spinning around. And the rounds were stress again. The worse part was getting separated from In-ho who find you seeing how two players were dragging you so they could have the number they needed.

You havent see him get that angry in years, his protective self being on as he pulled one from the neck and punched the other one.

He kept punching almost forgetting there was a game you two were supposed to play.

"Leave him we still need two more" You urged only for a guard to shove two confused and scared players besides you and In-ho.

"We got them" He assured getting your hand and going to one room.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"In-ho!! (Y/N)!!" The worried screams of Gi-hun filled the place as he looked for both of you.

Even if he had promised to try and dont get attached to new players and survive he could not help but feel a connection with both of you.

"Gi-hun!" In-ho's voice called making him look over and see him coming towards the rest with you by hand something that made him curious but decided not to ask.

"Im glad to see you two alright" Gi-hun said seeing just a few bruises on you, and noticing blood on In-ho knuckles.

You catched his eyes and went to explain "He saved me" you told the rest looking at them then at In-ho who was looking back at you "I would have not made it otherwise"

The look of love you two shared was so genuine, some wonder if you two were together but trying to be discrete to protect yourselfs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"They will most likely attack us tonight" Gi-hun explained as he showed the fork the guards had left when the food was given.

The idea only assented itself when the men returned from the bathroom, with blood on them. 

"And what do you propouse us to do?" In-ho asked all of the Xs were in a circle trying to listen to what Gi-hun had to say.

Gi-hun told the others his plan, honestly you thoguht it was nusts, it wont work. They were far suprassed on numbers but you had to shut yourself up.

You could tell your husband was both amazed by it and even kind of respecting it. Or at least that what he showed to him. He needed Gi-hun's trust after all.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

"Hide well" In-ho said besides you in a low tone "We can trust the guards but till they get here we cant trust the others"

You nodded knowing that very well since this was a typical phase of the game for years.

"We will be safe" You said holding his shoulder. "Do what you have to do, dont worry about me" You tried to make him feel at ease but he could not. The only thing that scared him more than anything were the other players trying to get to you.

"Just hang in there" He responded his forehead against yours.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

The fight was on its hot spot. The players were killing each other without a second thought.

Nothing like living it, even if you have seen this type of thing multiple times. Its was unnerving to see them just going at each others troath. The screams and cries were too much for a moment, the dark did nothing to help.

Thats when you felt it. Someone had dragged you out from under the bed and was now on top of you. You saw the player move their left hand ready to Strike at you. You tried to punch and defend yourself but the person on top was too strong.

A cold scream left your mouth as the fork pierced your shoulder.

You could not help it, the adrenaline and anxiety was getting on you.

"In-ho! In-ho help me please" You screamed for him, your husband the love of your life.

"Shut up, the next one will be your neck" The person said and for a moment you saw it. Dying in here and leaving In-ho.

Till you felt the person being pushed and the screams of them. You blinked trying to make sense.

It was In-ho, he had taken the fork from the player and was now piercing the neck of the player, not even leaving a chance for them to survive.

"GO HIDE NOW!!" In-ho ordered, he being scared himself and angry. He saw red when you were dragged and it was for the brutal grip Gi-hun had on his arm that he did not move faster.

You did as told getting under another bed and making sure no one could reach you.

"You fucking scum! How dare you lay hands on my wife" In-ho almost screamed too angry to see that the player was now dead. All his face and hands where covered in blood.

"Stop it!! They are dead, we need to continue the plan, the lights will be back soon" Gi-hun said taking him and pulling him away from the dead player.

"Get (Y/N), and be ready" Gi-hun told him trying to keep himself calm even when he was close to jump over and save you and In-ho. He wondered if he had hear it right, you were his wife?

In-ho did not waste time, searching for you in the dark till he noticed you. He went quick, pulling yourself out from the bed telling you its was him.

"Shh shh its me, its over dont cry Love" He said trying to make you feel better.

"In-ho?" He nodded and you cried harder "In-ho I was so scared"

"I know love I know, just a bit more alright? It will be over soon. Listen once the guards come in and we follow Gi-huns plan do not come. Someone will come and get you"

"Im going with you, im not leaving you in a bullet fight!"

"You know nothings gonna happen to me, I want you here, safe, alright?"

Finally you accepted.

"I love you In-ho"

"I love you too Love"

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

As In-ho had said when the guards got back after the fight one took you, Player 120 tried to protest but was put back in her place by other guard.

"You are under suspect of have been part of the riot. You are now eliminated from the games"

The guard said playing his role, starting to get you out of the room while you screamed following the act.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

"Apologies Madam, orders from the Front Man" The guard said bowing once you two were outside and out of reach from the others players.

Even if you were still breathing hard you nodded. "Dont worry, just take me to him". The guard nodded.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

He knew he was needed in the control room but refused to let you alone like that. He went to your share room, his heart broke at your image, bruises and blood over you. A guard was checking your shoulder but left after he order them to.

Silence fell over both of you as he went to you and hugged you careful not to hurt your shoulder.

He removed his mask to look at you properly.

"Im sorry, I should have never let you come, I should have stopped this sooner" He said with pain in his voice

"Dont blame yourself, I told you I was going in with you. This was not your fault In-ho" You reassured him feeling sad and worried over him.

"I cant not blame myself" He gently passed his hand over your cheeck "You are the best thing in my life and I almost lost you because of my own desires, never again"

You two kissed softly grounding yourselfs. You two were safe and together nothing else matters from now. Only the love and devotion you two had for each other.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

[sarotati]

Can I make a request to Chung Myung x reader?..Where did Chung Myung meet reader, his lover/wife after meeting again 100 years when they were reborn?..Chung Myung and his group had to meet a rich nobleman at the head to ask for their help so when Chung Myung heard a melodious voice because that voice did you ever sing to him while his head was on your lap?..When Chung Myung stayed with the group for a while and followed the voice to where the voice was..But he couldn't see your face because your face was covered..So the next night, you were still under the cherry blossom tree where Chung Myung sneaked out to make sure it was you.. I want some angst then extremely fluff😍💕💕

I'm sorry if I make too long..I don't know how to explain..I want to ask.. Does you read the novel?

My very first request, yay! I was so excited about it and I ended up writing it almost immediately, I'm not sure if I managed to write exactly what you wanted so I hope you tell me if there's something bad in there, I'm still learning y'know (; I honestly enjoyed writing this a lot yet maybe I added a little bit spices of mine, and I hope it's still good enough for you.

Edit: Ah silly me, I forgot to answer that last question ಠ⁠◡⁠ಠ yes I do read the novel, I haven't finished it yet though. I'm still stuck at Ch.1260 and it's hard to read super fast because 1st: I lack of free time and 2nd: the major events (almost all of them) got spoiled for me (AVOID SPOILERS AT ANY COST PUH-LEASE)

One More Thing to Regret

[Chung Myung x Reader]

Summary: He is given another chance to be a better husband for her, and so he will take it without hesitation.

WC: 8k

Note: the events take place after the spars or conference between Mount Hua and Wudang. No spoilers tho.

The chapter contains: a bit of angst, fluff, slow burn, tell me if I've forgotten anything because I'm horrible when it comes to warnings <:

Enjoy!

☆ミ

Despite the dark night that wrapped the outside world in shadows, this room was lit so brightly it could give someone a headache.

Add to that the excessive amount of alcohol consumed by disciples of all ranks, from the eldest to the youngest. Though the senior disciples didn’t indulge quite as recklessly as the others, the atmosphere was still overwhelmingly energetic.

Chung Myung chuckled as he watched some of the disciples who were nearly wiped out by drink. Baek Chun could barely sit upright or hold his cup steady while another disciple filled it for him. Soso was nearly hallucinating, and Yoo Iseol was struggling just to keep her eyes open.

He thought to himself: no matter how lively or energetic they were, they’d eventually hit their limit. Especially after facing Wudang — that fight wasn’t just physically exhausting but mentally draining too.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel entertained by the sight of them in such disarray.

The people in his past life had never been this weak with alcohol! Then again… it was hard to tell. Chung Mun had always been far too disciplined and never drank excessively, so no one could tell or know his limits.

He had shared drinks with Chung Jin sometimes times. While Chung Jin couldn’t quite keep up with him, he held his liquor surprisingly well. On the other hand, there was Tang Bo, who had been his drinking companion most of the time — the only one who could truly go toe-to-toe with him till the end.

Yes, for someone like Chung Myung who had only ever seen the world of Kangho — namely Mount Hua and Tang Bo — it was rare to find people this weak to alcohol. Not that being a martial artist necessarily meant you could drink like a fish, but perhaps it was simply the small number of people Chung Myung knew well.

‘Even a housewife wouldn’t be this bad...’

Suddenly, Chung Myung stopped drinking and took the jar away from his lips.

He rested his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his eyes scanning the disciples behaving in ways that were far too ridiculous for their age or the dignity of their sect.

The image of his wife popped into his head unexpectedly, throwing off his senses and dragging him into a swirl of memories that dulled his awareness of the present.

Some of those memories were dear.

Others...

A faint smile crept onto his lips as the taste of alcohol in his mouth suddenly turned bitter.

He stood up quietly. Though a few disciples noticed him, he muttered some vague excuse and left the gathering that the disciples had completely taken over.

Though their voices still pierced the thick brick walls and thin doors, the outside was far quieter by comparison.

But it did nothing to ease the sudden, dull headache that took hold of him.

The alcohol jar now hung at his side, forgotten. Chung Myung's pinkish eyes wandered upward, to the dark sky dotted with scattered clouds.

Yet they failed to obscure the moon’s radiant glow in the darkness. Chung Myung pressed his lips together tightly as her face flickered into his mind.

His feet began moving down the corridor slowly, as if he had no destination — which wasn’t entirely wrong.

He’d come out to clear his head. Or perhaps because he knew he wouldn’t be able to, and didn’t want anyone noticing his discomfort.

Chung Myung had many things he regretted — his negligence, his mindset, thousands of choices in his past life.

Somewhere on that long list stood her, the woman people once referred to as his wife. One of the people he had wronged the most.

Any other woman wouldn’t have lasted a single day with him.

Scratch that — even their first meeting had been a disaster.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, but the memory of himself acting like a child in a tantrum refused to leave his mind.

~

He remembered it well. A blazing summer day when one of the elders made a life-changing decision — without asking him or getting his consent. Come to think of it, even if things hadn’t turned out poorly, didn’t he have every right to be angry about being forced into an arranged marriage without so much as a heads-up?

“Are you kidding me?!”

Chung Myung turned his glare away from Baek Oh, who seemed utterly unmoved by his outrage, and fixed his bloodshot eyes on Chung Mun.

“What is this nonsense?! Sahyung, say something!”

But Chung Mun only sighed. He turned to Baek Oh with a faintly composed expression — he too was deeply shocked by the sheer absurdity of what their senior had said, but couldn’t say it out loud.

“Sasuk… I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this feels a bit premature—”

“No, it’s not premature at all.”

The elder turned his gaze toward Chung Myung, and if looks could kill, Baek Oh would have been a pile of ashes from the glare Chung Myung gave him.

“You’re nearly forty, yet you still act recklessly and wildly, like no one ever taught you discipline.”

Baek Oh rose from his seat and walked toward the door, brushing past Chung Myung, whose clenched fists and grinding teeth seemed moments from shattering bone.

“Consider this the result of your unrestrained freedom all these years.”

He spat in disgust and shut the door behind him. Chung Myung slammed the table in front of him with such fury that it cracked straight down the middle. He stood and stormed out.

Chung Mun let out a long sigh in the silence that followed.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

Later, one could say Chung Myung had a full-blown panic attack. He ran to Sichuan like a madman, not stopping for breath.

“What do you mean he’s not here?! Where else would he be?!”

Two young members of the Tang family trembled at the gate, but impressively kept straight faces. Frankly, it was a miracle their legs hadn’t buckled yet. The look on Chung Myung’s face would terrify a demon.

They couldn’t even stop him when he vaulted over the gate and made a beeline for Tang Bo’s residence.

The wooden door flew off its hinges and smashed against the opposite wall. Chung Myung took one look at the hastily packed bags and then locked eyes on Tang Bo, who was plastered against the wall, drenched in sweat — apparently having dodged the flying door at the last moment.

“Hyung-nim… we can talk about this like civilized peop—”

“Civilized?! I’ll show you what is so civilized!!”

“Hyung— Gkkkghkgh—”

Tang Bo began turning blue as Chung Myung strangled him and shook him back and forth, shouting like he could spew fire at any moment.

“You knew about this arranged marriage crap! How could you let this happen?!”

“Hyung—!!! Gkkghh! No—!!… air!!”

For a moment, Tang Bo genuinely felt his soul leaving his body. To think he’d die at the hands of Chung Myung… and before he could even get him to acknowledge him as a friend!

He was saved only by the sound of approaching footsteps at the entrance.

“Bo-ya, I heard your friend came loo—”

Both men turned toward the door as a woman entered and looked at them with a blank expression.

A moment of silence passed before she turned around and walked out.

“My apologies for the interruption.”

“You—!”

“Nuna! Wait, help!!”

The two men scrambled after her — to fix the misunderstanding, and in Tang Bo’s case, to possibly save his own life.

Eventually, the misunderstanding was cleared up… somehow.

In front of Tang Bo’s house, the two men stood alongside the woman who eyed them both. Chung Myung was fuming, stomping the ground, though admittedly calmer than when he had arrived.

The woman raised an eyebrow.

“So… you were just fighting?”

“Of course! How could you even misinterpret it that badly?!”

Chung Myung was genuinely baffled. The broken door, the half-dead Tang Bo — it screamed ‘fight.’ Were her eyes broken?

He looked at her. She was glancing between the two of them thoughtfully, then sighed and shrugged.

“Well, good. I was just about to ask for the engagement to be called off.”

“Ah… yeah… wait, what?!”

Chung Myung stopped mid-nod and blinked in disbelief. His eyes looked as empty as a dumb fish.

He glanced at Tang Bo, who bolted and hid behind the woman in panic. What, did he think Chung Myung wouldn’t hit her just because she was a woman?

He looked back at her with narrowed, skeptical eyes. She had her arms crossed and stared at him without a hint of concern or hesitation.

“Engagement? Our engagement?”

“Yeah.”

“So you're...”

“Yup.”

A vein throbbed in Chung Myung’s forehead. So it was her. That damn brat. He wanted to grab her and bury her under her family's marble floors so she’d never set foot on Mount Hua ever.

“Tsk. As I thought. How dare they suggest this child—”

Chung Myung growled with pure hostility, but stopped when he noticed Tang Bo sneaking up beside him, risking his life. That meant he had something important to say.

“Hyung… Nuna’s not a child.”

Chung Myung stared at him, then looked back at her. He pointed a finger at her, but before he could say a word, Tang Bo whispered a number in his ear. Chung Myung’s mouth snapped shut.

“That... Tsk, still suspicious!”

He put one hand on his hip and kept pointing at her with the other.

“If she’s that age, why isn’t she married yet?! There’s definitely something wrong with her!”

“Uh… well…”

When Tang Bo hesitated, eyes shifting away, Chung Myung felt the urge to punch his face. But then Tang Bo whispered in an even more reluctant voice:

"She’s been engaged five times before..."

"What...?"

"The first broke it off. The second died. The third broke it off. The fourth died. The fifth broke it off. And the sixth..."

Tang Bo paused and cleared his throat awkwardly, then gave Chung Myung a look filled with heavy implication.

Chung Myung blinked slowly as realization dawned.

He was the sixth.

"What... I thought you already knew."

Chung Myung turned toward the woman in confusion. She was smiling—but it didn’t reach her eyes.

"Though the rumors never made it out of Sichuan, I figured that had changed. Isn’t that why you rushed here to cancel the engagement?"

A vein throbbed on Chung Myung’s forehead, but the woman kept talking like she had no concern for her own safety.

"I get it. No one wants to be the next. So they all run as fast as they can. Ah, I can’t even blame you."

"Run?? Me?!"

Chung Myung shouted, and Tang Bo barely managed to hold him back before his fists could land. But the woman only let out a mocking laugh.

"Aren’t you here to break off the engagement?"

Chung Myung faltered for a moment, and the words he thought would slip out smoothly—as if his tongue had been greased—suddenly evaporated without the faintest chance of reaching any ears.

"Am I wrong?"

When she tilted her head just so, her face suddenly looked like a punching bag. Was she asking to be hit now?

Chung Myung clicked his tongue angrily and stomped away. But before long, he returned, dragging Tang Bo along like luggage.

He couldn’t be the one to break off the engagement now. Not that it would make much difference, but he couldn’t let his pride suffer that kind of blow—not in front of that woman. And if word spread, all of Sichuan would say he “ran” for his life. Given his widespread reputation, that rumor would travel far.

Just imagining the Southern Edge disciples laughing about it gave him stomach pain. Literal stomach pain.

So the only way out of this mess was to get the Tang family to cancel the engagement themselves.

That’s why Chung Myung had been sabotaging every plan that involved them. If they scheduled a meeting, he’d vanish—or arrive late if the elders managed to force him to show up. He’d toss out every rude, arrogant, and wholly unnecessary comment in the book.

She was, surprisingly, more patient than expected.

But that didn’t mean he was getting off unscathed.

Like now...

"Oh, look who’s still alive. Fiancé."

Chung Myung felt his blood boil. That smug smile, that tone, the mere fact that she called him that—infuriating beyond words.

As always, he didn’t return the greeting. She didn’t care enough to be bothered. She turned to her handmaidens, giving Chung Myung a short moment to sneak a glance at her appearance.

It was the same as usual—whether at Mount Hua, the Tang household, or elsewhere. Dressed in expensive, green silk, decked in jewelry and ornaments practically everywhere, and so heavily perfumed it was like she'd been marinated in the stuff. It wasn’t a too strong scent that it's unpleasant, exactly—just very... noticable.

When she turned back to him, his expression had grown even more annoyed. That only seemed to amuse her further.

"What’s wrong? Won’t you say something to your beautiful fiancée?"

"Beautiful, my ass."

Her lips twitched, like she was about to hurl an insult in return—but she sighed and let it slide. Chung Myung rolled his eyes, disappointed and angry.

At least today’s meeting was in a restaurant. Not everything about this was awful—there was food.

The place had been chosen specifically for its private rooms. Of course, an engaged couple couldn’t be left alone, so one of her handmaidens stood right outside the door.

"What, you’re not eating this?"

"Oh, I am."

She snatched back the dish he’d tried to swipe, and they stared each other down like predators. Sparks flew between them.

"Then I assume you’re not eating this one!"

"You—!"

She couldn’t save that other dish. In a blink, it had disappeared into Chung Myung’s stomach with masterful efficiency.

"I can’t believe you! How can you eat all that in one go?!"

"Unlike you, I actually do so much effort everyday! I’m not some pampered princess who needs a servant just to get dressed!"

She gasped, clutching her chest like she’d just been mortally wounded. For a moment, Chung Myung actually thought she had been.

"How dare you?!"

She glared at him like he’d just stolen her fiancé — though, ironically, Chung Myung was the only one that title could possibly belong to. He raised a brow and replied nonchalantly while still chewing.

"What? I didn’t say anything false."

"You didn’t?! You’re the one who overslept until noon and showed up late!"

Chung Myung choked on his food and thumped his chest until he recovered. Then he jabbed his chopsticks at her.

"It's not my fault that sleeping sounds more productive than spending the day with you!"

"Oh really?!"

Her patience snapped. She grabbed a bowl of soup and hurled it at him, but Chung Myung casually tilted his head and caught it without spilling a single drop.

"Hey! Don’t waste—"

He didn’t finish. He had to catch two more dishes. He glared at her as he set them back down, but she had already started eating—aggressively, even.

Chung Myung, who didn’t know a thing about women’s etiquette, could still tell this was not proper.

"Fine. Keep watching while I make sure you don’t get a single grain of rice."

A vein pulsed in his forehead, and he dug in like they were racing against time.

And yet—even after this utter disaster of a date—Chung Myung didn’t receive any news of the Tang family canceling the engagement.

Not even when the day of the wedding came—as if it were a death sentence for his poor freedom—did he give up. He suffered as they replaced his bed with a double, as he watched himself cloaked in blinding red robes, and as he saw her dressed in matching red.

To be honest, Chung Myung would be lying if he said she wasn’t beautiful. It would be stupid to say otherwise. She had been pretty even the first time they met—without all the glitz and glam—so of course she looked stunning now.

But that didn’t matter to Chung Myung. He wasn’t the kind of man swayed by a pretty face, nor had women ever really been a subject of interest to him. That wasn’t going to change.

And of course, the wedding did not go smoothly—at least not for either of them. Lord Tang nearly cried, thrilled that his daughter finally got married and that Chung Myung had broken the "curse" or whatever nonsense plagued her previous fiancés.

They stepped on each other’s feet multiple times during the ceremony, which Chung Myung considered idiotic to begin with. Looking back, he’d acted like a sulky child. Then again, she wasn’t exactly the picture of grace either.

Naturally, their wedding night wasn’t normal either. Chung Myung never even stepped inside his– sorry, now.. their house. He disappeared at some point and ended up sitting quietly on the rooftop, a bottle of liquor in hand.

He nearly choked when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned in alarm—only to see her climbing up, making her way toward him.

He tried to get up and flee, but somehow she reached his side in an instant and yanked him back down by the shoulder.

"Ah! What do you want from me?!"

For some reason, sitting beside her now made him uncomfortable. The reason was obvious, really. But she didn’t seem to care. She sat beside him, leaving more space between them than any married couple should.

"Stop running. It’s already over."

"Tsk."

Chung Myung clicked his tongue and looked away, chin resting in his hand.

"I’m not going back inside."

"You think I came here to ask that?"

For some reason, those words gave Chung Myung a strange sense of relief. But also curiosity. He glanced toward her—just enough to get a look.

She’d showered and changed. Her usually styled and ornamented brown hair was damp, hanging simply down her back. No makeup, no red wedding dress in sight.

"Honestly... I’ve been nervous since yesterday."

That puzzled Chung Myung a bit. It is natural, really—even he had been on edge. So he didn’t get why she had to say—

"...I’ve been expecting news of your death at any moment."

She smiled slyly, and his hand clenched into a fist. He fought the urge. Chung Mun had already threatened him for three hours that morning not to do anything stupid tonight.

"Tch, you believe in that superstitious crap?"

"The superstition crap started with me, Chung Myung."

She sighed helplessly. Chung Myung nearly leaned back when she looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"I know you don’t want to be tied down with the duties of a husband or whatever. Isn’t that your real reason for refusing marriage?"

Chung Myung’s eyes widened like she’d just said the last thing he ever expected. But he quickly collected himself and glared at her with furrowed brows.

"How did you..."

"A little bird told me!"

Chung Myung swore he wanted to gouge her eyes out just to make her stop looking at him with that infuriating stare. But he remembered Chung Mun’s threat again—and decided to hold himself back.

"And then?"

"I won't stand in the way of your freedom. In fact, I'd never to try to force you into something you hate."

That was pathetic in her opinion, and for a prideful woman like her, she could die before she asks for his attention.

And it's not like she needed it anyway.

His lips trembled for a moment, but he pressed them tightly together, saying nothing — because he had the sinking feeling she was about to say something worse.

"I won’t wait for anything of you. Let’s just live as housemates."

She turned to look at Chung Myung, her gaze unwavering. She had always acted either provocatively or ridiculously around him, so this was the first time he ever felt a faint aura emanating from her—one that radiated the dignity worthy of the famous Tang name.

She didn’t need extravagant jewelry, clothes, or perfume to give off that impression. All it took was the intention to carry herself that way.

"So…"

Her lips parted again, and her brows were slightly lower than usual.

"Stop looking at me like I'm a parasite."

After throwing those words at him, she went silent for a moment, then stood up and walked to the edge before leaping down.

"Feel free to come in whenever you want. I won’t be waiting."

Chung Myung heard the door close behind her. From the outside, he may have seemed absent-minded—but in truth, a storm of thoughts was ripping through his head.

He was sure this would end badly. Thankfully, his gut was wrong this time.

So why did he still have this ominous feeling?

Of course, the one who was most upset was Baek Oh, since it was obvious that even after getting married, Chung Myung was still far too free-spirited.

But for some reason he became less complaining.

So, perhaps this could be counted as a good thing.

Despite the fact that her presence should’ve felt completely unnatural, she blended into the space so easily—as if she'd always lived in his house. It wasn’t nearly as tense as he’d imagined.

Their time together mostly boiled down to bickering. Sometimes he’d yank the pillow from under her head, and she’d retaliate by pulling out his chair. Occasionally, they’d sneak into the kitchen to make something to satisfy their midnight cravings — sometimes they got caught, sometimes they didn’t. Chung Myung still remembered his surprise the first time he found out she could cook. For a woman of her status, you wouldn’t expect she’d seen a kitchen more than a handful of times in her life.

He remembers how it seemed like she enjoyed it a lot.

Still, Chung Myung didn’t complain—except when she cooked only for herself and didn’t save him a portion. But she’d usually grumble that she hadn’t expected him to come home that night anyway.

Chung Myung had expected a much worse life than this.

But it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it wasn’t bad at all.

For many years, Chung Myung had thought everything was going a little too smoothly.

~

And… he hadn’t been wrong.

Chung Myung was away from the sect most of the time. And every time he remembered how little thought he’d given it all, he felt like he hated himself a little more.

He stared at the bottle of liquor in his hand, then brought it to his lips, hoping to drown in it.

He didn’t think about the judgment or the accusations she must’ve endured. Sometimes, he forgot she was even his wife. Why wasn’t he home most nights? Why didn’t they have a child yet? Why couldn’t she—as his wife— manage to keep him at home like other men?

Of course, in cases like this, it was never the husband’s fault. No, people always blamed the woman... She’s wicked. Disobedient. Difficult to live with. So incompetent her husband prefers wandering the streets at night over coming home to her—

Chung Myung slapped a hand over his mouth as nausea surged up his throat. He leaned against one of the pillars that supported the corridor roof overlooking the courtyard.

Just the thought of all the times she must’ve heard that kind of talk — those venomous words that insulted her dignity and honor — without being able to say a word in her defense. All the times Baek Oh scolded her in his place when he couldn’t find Chung Myung. She was the perfect punching bag for his frustration. All the times she sat alone in that empty house, preferring loneliness than dealing with people's stares and gossip…

The more he thought about it, the more he understood why she’d eventually asked for a divorce.

Chung Myung bit down on his lip bitterly, trying to hold down the liquor rising up his throat again. His lips parted with hesitation, he whispered her name softly, like he was confessing every sin he’d ever committed — as if he didn’t deserve even this small act.

And just as he was drowning in the monstrous chaos of his thoughts, a sound tore him out of it.

He lifted his head, glancing around with faint panic. His expression shifted as though he was doubting his own hearing. Then he froze when he heard it again.

It was a melody—a faint, familiar one. Barely audible, but to a martial artist with sharp senses like him, clear enough to recognize.

Chung Myung laughed. A dry, hollow laugh — not from the heart. His feet moved forward, taking him deeper into the corridor.

"It’s just a damned song..."

A folk tune. It wasn’t even something she made up. She must’ve heard it from someone. If someone taught it to her, then surely others knew it too.

So… why now?

What kind of ridiculous coincidence was this?

Why only when he thought of her?

His walk turned into a jog. Then a run. But it wasn’t nearly as chaotic as the pounding in his chest — every beat of it whispering her name like an accusation.

His eyes widened when he realized he could no longer hear the tune. It had stopped.

Chung Myung slowed down, the energy draining from his limbs as quickly as it had surged in. His face twisted uncontrollably, and his teeth clenched hard, as if trying to suppress his rising frustration.

'Was I imagining things?'

Had he drunk too much? Was grief tricking his mind into hearing things that weren’t there? First Chung Mun’s voice… now this?

He couldn’t even begin to describe the frustration eating at him.

He turned around, ready to leave and stop acting like a fool.

But he froze when he heard a door creak open from the direction he had just come from.

And suddenly—the melody returned.

No. This time it wasn’t the tune that knocked the wind out of him.

It was the voice humming it.

Every ounce of energy that had filled him moments before vanished. Cold sweat drenched his back, and his fingers stiffened unnaturally.

He turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder — and saw a girl's back. She was walking away toward the courtyard, where plum trees bloomed.

Chung Myung swallowed hard. He wanted to slap himself or rub his eyes to make sure this wasn’t a dream. But he was too scared to confirm it.

The moonlight glinted off brown hair tied into a bun. She placed a dish beside a tree trunk, and several small cats approached, drawn by the scent of food.

He didn’t even realize his feet were moving until he was already walking toward her, half-believing she would vanish like a mirage the moment he got too close.

She froze before she could pet one of the cats, as she heard her name being called by him. She stayed like that for a few seconds before slowly turning toward him.

Though the lower half of her face was covered by a white cloth mask, his heart sank when he saw those eyes. They weren’t the same jade-green they used to be — but those lids, those lashes — he’d know that shape of eyes anywhere.

"You—"

She stood up before he could say anything more and turned as if to leave. But Chung Myung couldn’t even imagine letting that happen. He lunged forward so fast the kittens scattered into the trees, but he only cared about grabbing her.

His hand clamped tightly around her wrist. She turned, her brows furrowed in mild hostility — but when her eyes landed on his expression, something shifted. Her gaze grew more complicated.

Chung Myung’s lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. Yet she didn’t wait.

"What are you doing here? Guests aren't allowed in this area."

She tried to pull her hand away, but Chung Myung didn’t care. The world was playing tricks on his mind, and it wasn’t funny — not when he could hear that voice again and wasn’t sure if this was real or not.

"Don’t you recognize me?"

He asked slowly, his voice oddly calm, completely opposite to the chaos inside. He shook his head faintly, unable to look away.

"No, you did recognize me… just now… you know me."

Chung Myung felt his eyes sting. Odd.. it was like they were too dry. He saw her expression grow even more conflicted.

"You’re just drunk…"

She muttered, trying to move past him. But his grip wouldn’t release her. She looked at him firmly, but there was softness in her eyes she couldn’t hide.

"Come on, now."

She murmured more gently and took his other hand.

Chung Myung’s grip on her wrist loosened when he felt her smaller hand wrap around his rough, calloused one — scarred by years of swordplay and hardship. And maybe… just maybe… he felt some warmth push aside the bitterness in his chest.

She led him back to where she had come from, and they entered a room together. When he looked around, he realized they were in a large kitchen. The scent of food from the dinner the guild had prepared still lingered faintly.

When Chung Myung turned his attention back to her, he found a glass of water waiting for him.

He drank in silence, downing it all at once. The cold water washed away the bitter, foul taste in his mouth, clearing his head just a little.

“Sit.”

She gestured toward a chair by the table in the middle of the kitchen. Chung Myung scowled in annoyance and looked at her, but she rolled her eyes.

“It’s not like I could run away even if I wanted to. I’m not a martial artist, after all.”

When he thought about it for a moment, Chung Myung realized she wasn’t wrong. A regular person had little to no chance against a martial artist—let alone someone like him.

He let go of her hand, a trace of hesitation still lingering. And he didn’t flinch when she patted his shoulder in passing. No—he almost did, but he didn’t.

He slowly pulled the chair back and sat down. His eyes followed the ghost-like figure in front of him—though she felt more real now than ever.

She moved between cabinets, preparing tea for him, it seemed.

Tea... yes, tea would help his headache, especially...

Chung Myung felt his chest tighten again.

„What? Did you drink too much again? Goodness.“

—

Those eyes—he remembered them—always looking at him with a mix of helplessness and weary familiarity. He used to face those eyes every time he came home from a drinking session with Tang Bo.

Really now, he wasn't drunk just because his face was a little flushed!

“I’m not drunk.”

Chung Myung muttered in irritation as he stepped away from the doorframe, rolling his eyes at her muttered complaints.

In fact, he usually drank more with Tang Bo. But for some reason, tonight, he had brought several jars of alcohol home.

Why… Did you ask?

Because Tang Bo had been genuinely shocked when he found out Chung Myung had never drunk with her before.

Even Chung Myung himself had found it strange, if only for a moment, when he realized he’d never thought of it before. It would make sense, wouldn't it? For someone who loves alcohol like he does, to want to share a drink with everyone important in his life.

He froze mid-step just before passing her. She looked at him, puzzled. He lowered his gaze toward her.

Important?

An important person?

Yes—it should’ve been easy to call her that. After nearly fifty years of living together, how could she not be important to him?

But why did using that word for her stir something strange inside him now?

A bead of sweat slid down her cheek. She blinked but didn’t look away. She didn’t break eye contact.

“Are you coming in or...?”

“Ah... yeah.”

"C'mon, I'll make you some tea."

Chung Myung nodded. As she moved to close the door behind him, he watched her every motion intently.

Tang Bo’s surprised face still hovered in his mind, forcing him to think about things he’d never bothered to consider before.

„You’ve never shared a drink with her?!“

That was the first accusation ever directed at Chung Myung in this relationship.

And it opened the floodgates for more questions to trickle in—

About intentions, thoughts, experiences, desires, emotions, dreams... What did Chung Myung know?

What had he ever known? Had he even tried?

His hand moved on its own, resting on her shoulder to stop her from walking past him. He was startled — it wasn’t something he ever did. But let’s just blame the alcohol.

She looked at him, puzzled. He spoke with a nearly flat voice, holding up the rope in his hand. Tied at the end were the jars of alcohol he’d brought home.

“Let’s drink.”

~

Tang Bo hadn’t lied...

The thud of pottery cup hitting the wooden table echoed softly. Her eyes were still calm and focused even after the third jar, though her cheeks had taken on a faint blush.

Chung Myung watched her with unnerving focus for a man who’d drunk enough alcohol to kill an ox. Of course, he wasn’t entirely conscious — if he had been, she wouldn’t have caught him staring at her.

Judging by her expression, she wasn’t completely unaffected either. There was a haze in her gaze, and her features were more relaxed than usual.

How did Chung Myung even notice the difference, being someone who didn’t care about such details? Don’t ask — he’s confused too.

Yes, maybe he was a little interested. But why? Was her reaction unusual? No—people often relaxed after some drinks. He’d seen it countless times with his comrades.

But for some reason, he felt obliged to pay attention. No, it was the least he could do.

Or no... maybe it was just a way to dull the ominous feeling gnawing at his chest.

No, no...

That wasn’t right.

Each time she set her cup down — each thud on the wooden table — it got worse.

Chung Myung didn’t know when it had started. He didn’t know why his shoulders were tense or why his expression had grown so unreadable.

In bars, you see all kinds of drunkards.

The angry, the dreamy, the emotional, the cheerful.

Chung Myung had dealt with most of them. But someone whose face grew darker with each cup? That was a first.

She picked up the jar again, refilling both their cups. Again. And again. The silence was suffocating. For some reason, Chung Myung couldn’t bring the cup any closer to his lips. He couldn’t break the silence. He could only wrestle alone with the storm of thoughts swirling inside him.

Finally, when she saw his hand freeze mid-reach, she stopped too, gently setting her cup down. She sighed softly through her nostrils — he noticed it.

And nothing could describe the crushing feeling inside him when she looked at him again, and that strange face — the one he’d never seen before — vanished.

Why? Was he not trustworthy enough? Was he so worthless that she had to fake her emotions around him? After all these years, didn’t he deserve at least one honest look? One real attempt to understand?

Chung Myung didn’t know why, but her simple look felt like a shove, pushing him away.

Then she opened her mouth, and the words fell from her lips, taking his heart with them as they dropped all together.

“Let’s get divorced, Chung Myung.”

“…”

The cup slipped from his fingers, rolling across the wooden table. The strong-smelling liquor spilled onto the smooth surface.

“What...?”

Once, Chung Myung had tried desperately to keep this woman out of his life — fearing she’d change it, take something from him.

Then one day, he discovered she wouldn't take anything at all. And he’d been grateful, because it meant her presence made no difference to him.

He was supposed to feel nothing. She was supposed to have no impact. Her presence — or absence — shouldn’t have mattered.

“…Divorce?”

Chung Myung muttered as though he’d just uttered a vile curse. As though he'd just been stabbed in the back, deeply.

“You can’t just say that… like it’s nothing.”

His voice was rough, but quiet. Steady, but barely hanging on.

Bitterness exploded inside him when she looked away. A strange burn, a tightness, a bitter knot in his throat. It felt like barbed wire was wrapping around it, biting into his skin with every breath.

“Why?”

He hissed. His large hand gripped her face, making her look at him again. He moved slightly, but even that small movement showed just how tense every inch of him had become.

She didn’t bother to hide the tension anymore. It would’ve been ridiculous to stay calm in such a moment.

“Chung Myung-ah…”

“That’s bullshit!”

He let go of her face, only to grip her shoulders immediately after. His hold wasn’t gentle — but not painful either. Just firm. Just urgent.

“Why the hell would you say something like that?!”

She clearly hadn’t expected such an intense reaction from him, not over this. She hadn’t thought divorce would matter to him so much, since neither of them had ever considered themselves a real couple.

“I was joking.”

She spoke quickly, trying to brush it off. His grip slackened for a moment. She forced a crooked smile — but even in his drunken state, he saw the lie in it.

“I didn’t know you’d react like that, hehe~ Since when can’t you bear to part from me?”

When she tilted her head and asked that, Chung Myung tried to hold his expression. Told himself to stay angry. To demand answers. But in the end, his expression twitched, betraying him.

“Shut up.”

“What? Ignoring the question, huh?”

“Tsk.”

He clicked his tongue, discomfort still gnawing at him. He finally let go of her shoulders and turned away. Rested his head on the table, refusing to look at her.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Oh? Acting like a child now? That suits you.”

He didn’t respond, though he was provoked enough to. His mind was too tired, too tangled with thoughts that refused to leave him alone.

Then he felt a soft touch on his head. His eyelashes fluttered, heavy with sleep. A shiver ran down his spine as her fingers removed his hair tie and ran through his hair twice before toying gently with random strands.

A humming sound echoed faintly in his ears, growing clearer with each passing moment. Still gentle. Still quiet.

And yet, the storm inside him remained.

~

The crackle of fire, the boiling water, the hush of nighttime sounds.. they all disrupted that melody. Or maybe… they gave it a haunting beauty.

But the point is — it stirred something strange and aching in him.

So much that Chung Myung felt…

She turned toward him in surprise at the sudden voice of his head hitting the table. Sighing softly as she poured the tea into glass cups.

The day after that night — or rather, in the tense days that followed — Chung Myung did not leave the sect grounds. Not even once.

He wasn’t foolish enough to believe such a blatant lie. From her reaction, he knew the problem wasn’t him, not really.

Even if he assumed she wanted a divorce over something trivial, maybe she was bored of their life together, or perhaps she wanted something else... he had no idea, not even a guess.

But that look in her eyes — that heavy, dark impression — couldn’t have come from nowhere.

And so, Chung Myung took it upon himself to understand everything. Even when she told him nothing was wrong, he knew it was a lie. She was just too stubborn to ask for help — let alone for even the slightest bit of attention.

He had forgotten all of it over the years, or maybe he simply thought everything was fine. That he would notice if something ever went wrong.

Turns out he was wrong. And she had been more stubborn than he ever imagined. If she lived by the rule that attention should never be asked for, who knew how many years she kept that silent request buried within her, never letting it surface?

Chung Myung still remembered the shock of realizing that the peaceful, lazy life he imagined was nothing more than a figment of his own mind — an illusion, far removed from reality.

His brow twitched when he heard the clink of the glass cup placed on the table. It wasn’t loud, but to his ears, it rang sharp like a knife. Perhaps it was because his head rested on the table, but it also struck him with a strange sense of deja vu.

“Your tea will get cold.”

She murmured as she sat down in the chair beside him. She knew he didn’t like tea that much anyway, not enough to worry about it cooling, but she needed to break the silence with anything she could.

She reached up and untied the knot securing her mask, removing it and setting it aside — it had lost its purpose now that he'd recognized her. She lifted the cup to her lips, and in that moment, Chung Myung turned to look at her. A faint flicker of familiarity sparked in his eyes when he finally saw her face.

He didn’t know how old she was in this body, but her face was unmistakably the same as in her past life — only younger, healthier too maybe.

“How is Mount Hua?”

She asked with a hint of curiosity, resting her cheek against her palm. Chung Myung felt a strange stirring deep in his gut at the eye contact — something he never experienced when looking at any other disciple or elder.

He didn’t answer her question. As if he hadn’t heard it at all, he suddenly lifted his head off the table and turned to her. Her attention returned to him instantly.

“Mount Hua...”

He began hesitantly, as if he hadn’t planned what to say, as if the words were difficult to arrange. Yet his tone remained steady and composed.

“Come back to Mount Hua with me.”

“...”

She stared at him in silence, her expression unreadable. When she turned back to her teacup, he continued.

“It won’t happen again. I swear. Just trust me—”

“That had nothing to do with you, Chung Myung-ah.”

She cut him off firmly, as if she saw no point in hearing the rest. She already knew what he was about to say.

“I chose that life, and I’ll never place the burden of my own decisions on you. Don’t even think about it.”

Chung Myung frowned at her words and, with firm resolve, scooted his chair closer, loud enough to cause some unnecessary noise. She instinctively leaned back for a moment, but he caught her arms before she could retreat.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His tone was a mixture of annoyance and certainty.

“I’m not saying this to feel better about what happened. I just want you by my side.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Chung Myung felt like something was off. A silence fell, and she looked at him like he had grown another head.

Sweat gathered on his brow when he saw the sly smile forming on her lips.

“Oh ho~? What’s this? Are you proposing to me again in your new life? Isn’t that just romantic?”

Chung Myung sputtered out some incoherent nonsense and turned away. She laughed, so there was no doubt his expression had given something away. His grip on her arms wavered — but he didn’t let go.

“Tch. This evil woman...”

“Aw~ But you love me, don't you~?”

“You—!”

He looked at her, clearly flustered, but froze when he saw her smile.

Her eyes were so lively. There was a glimmer in her irises beneath the moonlight, it expressed a feeling that words couldn’t describe.

Her lips shaped a tender curve, and Chung Myung felt his heart seize as he took in the sight, still struggling to process it.

“Do you really need me by your side, Chung Myung-ah?”

“...”

“Is that what you truly want?”

As the question sank into his mind, Chung Myung nodded without hesitation. There was no reason to delay.

Her smile widened more than before, and he didn’t miss the faint blush coloring her cheeks. The sight was nearly dizzying.

“I see.”

She hummed, gently patting his cheek like she was waking him from a dream. But to Chung Myung, reality felt more intense than any dream.

One moment, there was a quiet, amused chuckle from her lips—and in the next, their lips were sealed together, stealing her breath.

Without hesitation, but slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, tilted her head, and ran her fingers through his black hair, occasionally tangling in his long, thick ponytail.

It wasn’t just a first kiss. It was a silent apology. A confession. A warm, longing welcome.

—

“Who’s… coming…?”

“Yes, I’ll be joining you on the way to Huayin. I hope that’s alright?”

“Ah! No, wait.. we have to ask the sect leader first, but I doubt he’d refuse…”

Baek Chun glanced back nervously, receiving a confused nod from Hyun Jong before turning to her again.

“Ah, looks like he’s not refusing.”

“Excellent!”

They both smiled—hers warm, his more awkward.

“Um… pardon me…”

“Yes? Please speak?”

As the girl tilted her head in innocent curiousity, Baek Chun glanced at the stiff man she was clinging to his arm, as if they were... well, something.

“He... uh… hmm…”

Baek Chun couldn’t find the right words. He waved his hands helplessly in the air. The other disciples watched, equally confused, hoping for clarity.

“Miss… what’s your relationship with Chung Myung?”

“Oh, Chung Myung-ah?”

It was like the disciples’ ears doubled in size hearing the familiar, affectionate tone she used. Their eyes widened even more when Chung Myung didn’t so much as flinch — like he was made of stone.

No… even that paled in comparison to when they saw her hans — no, just the fingertips — brush feather-lightly along his right biceps.

“Although it’s not official on paper, I suppose you could say I’ve finally found the husband I lost years ago.”

Silence. No one dared to comment. She laughed and released his arm.

“Well then, I should go resign from the Guild. Excuse me!”

The disciples stared in stunned silence as she walked away. Then all eyes turned to the man she’d left behind.

“He doesn’t seem…”

Jo Gul mumbled, lightly tapping Chung Myung with a finger, as if checking whether he was the real Chung Myung or an absurdly realistic statue. Frankly, the latter would’ve made more sense.

But Chung Myung toppled backward at the gentle poke. The disciples panicked — and Jo Gul was kicked aside as Soso stepped forward to handle the crisis.

“Hold yourself together, sahyung!”

The woman knelt beside him. She heard him mumbling something incomprehensible. When she placed a hand on his forehead, she quickly withdrew it, rubbing her palm like it had been burned.

“He’s just delirious.”

The disciples swore, if they could, they would each drop their jaws and leave for Mount Hua without it.

This — this time — was not an ordinary morning for the disciples of Mount Hua.

☆彡

A little addition~: Chung Myung tried his best to understand the problem after she asked for a divorce, and made sure to cause a stir in the sect when she went to visit her family. Especially against Baek Oh.

Unfortunately, it was the time that the Demon Cult showed up for the first time and attacked the Tang Family, and she was one of the first victims of that attack.

That's why Chung Myung didn't have the chance to be better to her.

Ending <3

[yee-littleskittles]

Cardinal Benitez X Fem. Reader (PLATONIC)

So I Saw Conclave and it had me by the choke hold 😅 especially the cutie patootie Cardinal Benitez 🥹. So here I have some Hcs for him 😁 WARNING ⚠️ : THERE WILL BE SOME SPOILERS OF THE MOVIE, so if you haven’t watched it, best come back to this later

So for this I made up this Concept of reader being something called “The Mourning Nun” ( this concept DOES NOT EXIST IRL!) where you are a symbol of Mourning during the Popes death, from the moment the Vatican announced that the Pope had died till the announcement of a New Pope, you are in the role of “The Mourning Nun”

Your responsibility’s goes from hosting the Morning,evening, and nighttime rosary. Reprinting voting ballots for each day of the Conclave, as well as helping the other nuns and sisters with whatever they need, as well as Cardinal Lawrence. 

This is what you’ll be wearing :

📿~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~✝️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~📿

+ when you 1st met Cardinal Benitez he was almost always by himself, weather it be during lunch, eating his sandwich. Or in the Vatican Gardens, taking a stroll. Or alone in prayer in the chapel. If at most he was with Cardinal Lawrence. 

+ so finally one day you decided to approach him, he was once I get in the Vatican Gardens, sitting on one of the benches by himself, and of course, with what you were wearing, I was bouncing make lots of noise.

+ noticing the noise coming from behind him, he’s literally turned his head, and smiling at you faintly ‘Finally Some Company’ He thought :) 

+ that’s where you finally noticed that he wasn’t technically alone, as you gaze over the pond, they’re the turtles were🐢

+ first conversation starts somewhat mild, he says how he often thinks about how life is for them, as a turtle

+ that’s when he scooted over to finally let you sit down next to him on the bench , it was enough space even for all the layers you were wearing

+ that’s when he finally notices that unique wardrobe you had, it reminded him of Mary

+ no he wasn’t aware of the tradition of “ The Mourning Nun” (THIS ISNT REAL BTW!!) so there he was asking you questions

+ “ how can you move around with such heavy clothing ?”

+ “ do you get overheated or not?” 

+ “ do you wear this every day or just for a short period?”

+ and of course you answer every question respectfully, and earnestly. And for a short while it distracts Vincent of the heavy burden of picking a new pope

+  he eventually learned that your role is to be a symbol of the mourning of a whole nation, the of the Catholics

+ He looks at you with a quiet gaze. “It must be a heavy burden. To live in such somberness. To walk the halls like a living reminder of loss.”

+ Vincent wonders about what kind of responsibilities you’re able to take even with the unique wardrobe on, which is where you tell him about the copies , the rosaries three times a day , and preparing lunch for all the other Cardinals as well as dinner and breakfast, and much more

+ “Cooking, copying, and running around… You truly are a wonder, my dear.” Vincent's tone is both admiring and surprised . He can barely walk three steps without getting a twinge in his hip, and here you are, a whirlwind of activity in black cloth.

+ “And yet you still have time to speak with an old man in the gardens?” He smiles at the last part, a hint of wry humor in his voice.

+ “You are NOT old! 😭” you respond rather quickly, only making him laugh more

+ the conversation lasted a few more minutes until one of the other nuns called your name saying that it was time to prepare for lunch, so you beat him a farewell, typically hoping you’d see him again, and have a chance to talk to him

+ and he secretly wished for the same thing 

+ about an hour and a half later lunch is served, you see Vincent again automatically the conversation flows 😄

+ however it was cut short when all the other Cardinals finally got a glimpse of you when you with the extravagant attire, so naturally, they all flock to you, asking you questions similar to what Vincent had asked prior

+ some more excited than others, during the exchange, you learned a few names. Cardinal Lawrence who seemed to be the head of the conclave. Cardinal Bellini was another name you learn, as well as Cardinal tremblay. I’m the one who wasn’t very much excited was cardinal Tadesco 😅, no you didn’t pay much money to him ( and HIS VAPE)

+ You kept answering questions that the other cardinal had about you , then came Cardinal Tedesco interrupted “come on fellas , non è così interessante (she isn’t that interesting) ”

+ Cardinal Tedesco's interjection breaks the flow of questions, his dismissive statement drawing the attention of the other cardinals.

+ Vincent shoots him a look, a faint hint of irritation in his expression. He doesn't appreciate the dismissive comment, feeling a slight protectiveness towards you.

+ ‘ Well it IS your lunch, you all go eat the food the sisters have made for you all, if you’d like, I can answer the questions later😅’ you said, trying to lift up the mood again

 There's a moment of hesitation among the cardinals, a ripple of disappointment passing through them. They had been eager to learn more about you and your peculiar dress code, each of them trying to get more words from you. Vincent, sensing their reluctance, steps forward with a gracious smile. "Yes, we will be going to eat. We shall speak more later."

+ The other cardinals, momentarily dejected, soon perk up at your reassurance.

"Oh, it's alright then."

"Quite right, there will be time."

"Plenty of time."

+ A string of nods and murmurs echo the sentiment, their disappointment slowly giving way to a sense of anticipation. They start to move towards the tables lined with food, stealing glances back at you with varying degrees of curiosity and admiration.

+ finally got all the cardinals to go sit down and eat the lunch that all the other sisters that help prepare. That’s where you asked Vincent the million dollar question. ‘ So… who was the cardinal? The one that interrupted me? 😅’

+ "Ah, that was Cardinal Tedesco." Vincent's expression remains somewhat flat as he replies, the earlier interruption from the other cardinal still fresh in his mind.

+ after some moments of talking you manage to somewhat calm him down and encourage him to eat his lunch with the rest of the Cardinals, considering they had the second day of conclave after

+ whereas he was getting ready to go eat lunch you were getting ready to print more copies for the voting ballots

+ He takes a final look at you as you join the other sisters, disappearing into the sea of black and white. He can't help but admire your dedication and composure, even in the midst of such a cumbersome task.

+ A faint smile forms on his lips, his thoughts briefly returning to the conversation and the subtle interactions between you two earlier.

+ throughout the next following days, more and more secrets were being uncovered throughout the Cardinals.

+ and you were there when the regrettable scene of Sister Shanumi and Cardinal Adeyemi happened in the cafeteria. You rushed over to go check on her with sister Agnes. That’s when Cardinal Lawrence came in to also find out what happened

+  you were also the one who made the copies of exposing why Cardinal Trumbley had sent specific orders to bring sister Shanumi to Rome, to embarrassing a member of the conclave, Adeyemi. 

+ you were sitting next to Vincent when the whole ordeal happened, cardinal trembley being exposed in front of the conclave, And knowing that eight other Cardinals were paid to vote for him

+ needless to say you both thought the whole deal was a mess , and that they were slowly running out of popular candidates

+ you were also the one tending to the Cardinals wounds when the bomb outside the Vatican went out

+ scaring you in a few other of your nuns

+ you patched each one up to the best of your abilities, and relieve that Vincent wasn’t hurt in the ordeal,

* you were also there present when he made a speech to the other Cardinals “ with respect, what do you know about war” is how Vincent started his speech to the other Cardinals

+ which ultimately decided his fate in the conclave, you were SURE of it, That he’d be a great Pope

+ “Ah You flatter me dear 😅” Vincent would say in conversation, he was much too humble. “ though I wouldn’t consider myself a popular choice ” there he goes again, his humble nature

+ which in your mind is exactly what the Vatican needed in these difficult times, a man like him to run the biggest religion in the world

+ it was the third day of conclave , you stood outside wishing all the other cardinal good luck on their voting, ‘ Good luck in there 🥰’ you wished Vincent from the door.

+ “ thank you, my dear , I’ll see you again in a few hours please take care until then” he returned the soft smile 

+ and Thus the door is close to the chapel , where once again the Cardinals vote. You were getting worried since it never took this long for the Cardinals to elect the pope, you prayed that your prayers would be answered

+ if they would seem like forever, your nerves were getting to you, so you decided to go out to the Vatican Gardens, where you first had a chat with Vincent, were you headed over to the pond to see the turtles 🐢

+ you noticed that one had gone a stray from the pond , so you picked it up and decided to take it back to its home , just as you bent down to return it to the water a large and loud roar of people surprised you , and that’s when you saw it , the white smoke

+ the new pope was chosen!

+ finally after countless days of black smoke , your prayers I’ve been answered

+ you tried rushing over to see who they elected as pope but the other nuns found you immediately and lead you to your room, saying that it was time to change your clothes, since you were no longer in mourning .

+ so you were dressed into a nice dress shirt, a red one at that . With some black pants that went along well with the dress shirt , and some comfortable penny loafers

+ once you were finally dressed and ready, you and the other sisters headed out next to the balcony to see who was elected pope. And to say that your heart skipped the beat when you saw Vincent dressed in white robes, it was a site you thought you’d never see.

+ But deep down, you were glad that it was him :)

+ they finally announced to the world that he was now Pope Innocent, but you, he would always remain the cardinal that you had befriended, Vincent :) 🤍 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🇻🇦~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

So yeah, hopefully you all like this 😁, I really got into the movie conclave, and of course, cardinal Benitez is the cutest 🥹 show the lil guy some love 💕 if there were some mistakes in the writing, I’m so sorry I was in a rush 😭 🙏 

Credits

Picture below of our cutie patootie - Pinterest

The Banner above : made by me on Picsart 🗣️

[gladoswantscake]

Burnout - Goro Majima x Reader

Summary: A bad day at work leads to coming home exhausted and irritated, but you end his day on a good note.

Warnings: Some spoilers from Kiwami 2

A/N: From now on I'll be only sharing my works on here and on Ao3 because the Yakuza tags on Wattpad are dead 😔

Available on AO3

He couldn't wait when it was time for him to leave. The loud sounds of metal clinking and saws going off was one thing that gave him a headache, but his some of his subordinates were the biggest factor. Whatever needed to be done today can wait till tomorrow. All he wanted to do now is to get home to unwind.

Majima mopes to the front door of his home. His body slouches up against the door frame as he fishes for his house key in his pocket. He slowly inserts the key and opens the inside of his home. As he steps foot inside, he was welcomed by the intoxicating smell of food being made in the kitchen.

He smiled. He could finally relax.

He was grateful to have you. Not for what you do for him, but how much you look past of what he does for a living. Others would flock to safety due to his crazy demeanor, but you never did. You found him to be intriguing.

Majima removes his shoes and makes his way into the kitchen to find you throwing together dinner. Various ingredients scattered amongst the counter.

He approaches you from behind quietly. His hands find their way around your waist followed by a kiss on your cheek causing you to slightly squirm from the hairs of his goatee tickling you. His weary body pressed against your back watching you cutting up the last bit of vegetables.

"Whatcha' making?"

"It's katsudon. I've been wanting to try it lately. I think you'll like it."

"Anythin' you cook will always taste great." His kisses your shoulder.

You throw the chopped onions into the pan and turn to face him with his hands remaining around your waist. The crevices underneath his eye could tell that it was another stressful day for him.

Your hands reach for his eyepatch carefully removing it from around his head. The eyepatch was the only thing that could hide his flaw from anyone. In fact, you were the only person to see him without it. He was always used to wearing it when being out in public or with his close ones. It was part of his identity. Sometimes without it, it made him self-conscious, but your touch says otherwise.

He watches your gaze soften as you briefly trace your thumb underneath his missing eye. The corners of his mouth twitches upward as you lean into him, pressing your lips against his closed eyelid. Your sweet gesture causes him to melt.

"Another bad day, huh?" Your hand runs through his dark hair.

He replies with a groan. The therapeutic feeling of the nails of your fingertips gently raking his scalp causes him to become slightly drowsy. He rests his chin on your shoulder and closes his eye.

"I'm sorry to hear that it's been stressful."

"It's no longer stressful now that I'm home with my Y/N-chan." He mumbles with a smile.

"You're sweet." You lift his head up from your shoulder and peck him on the lips.

"Go get cleaned up. I'll have dinner ready when you get out."

~~~

Majima's eyes were glued to the TV as he laid in between your legs. The two of you settled in on the sofa watching a movie. His head rested on your chest listening to the soft rhythmic beating of your heart and your fingertips stroking the textured tattoo of his bare back. He soon became lost in his thoughts.

The thought of having to get up the next day for work to leave you in the bed alone once again. It made him depressed.

Majima's breathing became slightly irregular as his emotions changed.

The grip around your waist tightens catches your attention.

"Is something bothering you?"

A nerve struck him. He hardly cried. He hated crying, but your confrontation was stirring sad emotions within him.

"Just work is all, doll. Nothin' for ya to worry about." His voice slightly cracks.

He lied. He always hated to tell you about what goes on at his job knowing what he does is controversial.

"I know it's been more than work. Something's eating you."

Your words of concern allowed more tears to escape from him.

In truth, the stressful workload between the construction and the conflict within the Tojo clan was starting to get to him. To top it all off, he was working with men who hardly had a brain.

God forbid he has to tell you about relying on his critical instincts to diffuse a bomb the other day.

He stayed silent. You were catching on quick and there was no other lie to back him up. He didn't think he could keep his composure any longer when he felt you sitting up.

You help him sit up only to have him lowering his head to hide the stream of tears.

"Goro... You can look at me."

He feels your fingertips brushing underneath his bearded chin to lift his head up.

His cheek was wet, and his eye was red. His face tightens as he tries to hold back his tears to speak.

"I know you hate to talk about what goes on with your job, but you shouldn't keep your issues bottled up."

"I know, baby." He wipes his face. "I just don't want to sound like a burden to you."

He felt your fingers moving the strands of his slightly scruffy hair away from his face then cupping his cheek.

"You're no burden to me."

He knew your words meant sincerity, but the stress was starting to take a toll on him physically and mentally. He was tired and frustrated from the spiraling events. The last thing he would do was to nag your ear off.

"I can't remember the last time you've had a day off."

"Me neither." He sighs. "It's just the construction that's been a lot. A lot more responsibility. Maybe after it's all done then work won't be as stressful as it has been."

"I hope work eases up for you." Then an idea came to you.

"How about you call out in the morning? I understand that you feel like you can't take your eye off of your men, but I know Nishida-san can be trusted to take care of everything. Besides, you need it."

He gave thought your idea. A day off was what he needed. But one day away from work felt like a whole week when working with half-witted men.

"If anything bad happens while you were out, I'm sure you'll whip your men back into tip-top shape."

The joke made Majima titter. "I suppose I can do that."

Another hand reaches for his other cheek bringing his lips to yours. The pace of his heart picked up as he was brought into a feeling of bliss. The feeling of your warm hands traveling away from his cheek down to his bare chest sent tingly sensations throughout his body.

"We'll do something fun tomorrow. Just me and you."

"I'd like that." He smiles.

[wild-hues]

unhinged Arcane theory?

Okay. Welcome to my TED talk. The conundrum of "how does old[god] mage Viktor from the annihilation timeline start all this stuff off where they're stuck in a loop ?" Is below... My theory seems WAY too neat and simple and is kind of pieced together from way too many reddit rabbit holes I went into trying to learn League lore. Disclaimer: I have never played League before, and likely won't but I'm a big fan of game stories, as always since things change and get re-written so, this doesn't even matter in large scale. this is really just my hc. SPOILER Warning for everything in Arcane S1&2: Let's start that I think Old Mage Viktor's original timeline probably was similar to the one we as an audience follow in Arcane. I base my theory on a few key factors that would lead to similar paths without the initial rune intervention. Jayce's mother does not live in Old Mage Viktor's original timeline (his first playthrough lol) HMO. Everything is mostly the same at first with maybe 2 differences. One part is not as necessary as the other part. The first part would involve Viktor stumbling across the shimmer flowers (maybe he falls into an entire pile of flowers and has a shimmer trip) which could be a catalyst for something in the Arcane to start awakening and give him a sort of vision leading to the creation of the Hexcore (eventualy) similar to how he has the vision in the Hexgate in the main series? Thats what inspires him to start studying the Arcane in earnest. > He could also (depending on how old the year gap would be) have some slow Mage success doing little things which [slows the affects of him aging/dying just a bit] Kind of microdosing the Arcane to treat his ailments and him getting sick, but it's no cure and time marches on. I sort of thought of the shimmer drug Salo was using in the series, but idk kitchen wizard stuff. I kind of see him becoming a bit addicted to the pursuit of Arcane relieving him permanently of what he thinks are flaws. (this part of the theory is less important to the old mage origin story) Fast forward to him meeting Jayce following the explosion. Viktor is employed at the Academy as an assistant to the Dean like our main story timeline. Everything is the same till he hears him at the trial and is like "oh Magic? Well if you don't say..." Viktor would go to read his notes and confront Jayce in the night like he did in our main universe. Most importantly Jayce would tell him a story about why he cares so much and this is important. Jayce saw his mother die in a snow storm as a child and he couldn't do anything to help at the time (RIP it's the only way) Jayce belives if he could harness a power like the Arcane, the way mages do, without being a mage he could prevent that stuff from happening ever again. This all results in: > A strong motivation that is inline with Jayce Talis as a character that isn't wonky. > A strong connection Viktor can align with since he also wants betterment of world > Science bromance is born. -> It pivots from the main Arcane story a bit when they split after Viktor comes out of the cocoon and they enter their divorce era. They are both sad boys but no one gets yeeted to another dimension (lets just hand wave that and say it's because Jayce didn't touch the damn hex anamoly while wearing an Accelration Rune bracelet. (remember in this theory, his mom and him aren't saved by future Viktor)

-> Eventually Jayce and Viktor are put at odds, maybe when he starts stealing crystals from the Hexgate (which I think is hat Salo was trying to do because Viktor was dying/powering down) I think Jayce would be kind of unhappily providing hextech weapons to Commander Caitlyn at this point also, which would also really piss Viktor off.

-> More consequences of actions and feelings happen, and Viktor finds the anamoly while trying to get more crystals because he's powering down as his commune grows larger and larger. Eventually with it in hand he is able to start evolving people, and then everyone and we get annihilation world.

ALRIGHT SO. Here is in my head where we get the first Old Mage Viktor oopsie. Could be just being lonely, or not thinking about things, but Viktor comes to a conclusion that " I'd never develop hextech or Arcane powers and come to be without Jayce " but he loves him so he's not just going to timetravel and dispatch him, or himself because Paradox. But what if he thinks " Well, if Jayce never looses his mom he won't feel the need to pursue Hextech or the Arcane." So he maybe wanders the world a bit? Eventually masters timetravel.... goes back and saves Jayce AND his mom. Bam he creates an rift. - time moves forward and ooops Jayce still likes the Arcane because it was hellla cool and it saved his moms life! Now the OG timeline plays out again and we get the same outcome. -> Old Mage Viktor is left with only one option ' introduce a variable into this science experiment ' because he loves Jayce, wants to save everyone and also can't NOT save him and his mom again because he sees how much it truly meant to him and he isn't perfect, he's allowed to be selfish for his beau. Thats how you get to our main Arcane storyline, where he gives runes out like candy to little Jayce's. Trying to get one to work and prevent everything from happening.

How does he know to do this? Key: Arcane plane is Nirvana Let's assume all of the alternate timelines kind of reach their glorious evolution points, either loosing or absorbing Jayce in these processes. Mage Viktor says in the series " I only found an end to pursuit" which to me is very inline with reaching a state of peace. I think the most likely end to all of these alternate timelines is glorious evolution - > perfect enlightenment -> reach the Arcane equivalent of Nirvana and are absorbed into Arcane plane and become magic itself. I kind of think of the Arcane plane and how it intersects with the world or Runeterra as [timeless, ever present and all points at once sort of] & the first Old mage Viktor absorbs all the intersecting timeline points & knowing of the alternate Viktor's. So he knows what has worked and what hasn't worked and keeps trying. Why is it the same Old Mage ? The reason that it's the same old mage Viktor that meets Jayce in the annihilation timeline(s) and in the past to give the rune is because Old Mage Viktor chose not to ascend into Nirvana because he wanted to prevent the glorious evolutions from occurring, because it in a sense kills Jayce every time and his will is not his own... & ultimately I think he was so deeply in love with Jayce that he was too stricken with grief to move on and become part of the Arcane without Jayce of his own free will reciprocating his feelings/forgivness/understanding. Which is why I think he says to Jayce "...you are the only one who can show me this". In the series you see our Viktor(in his evolved form, following Ekko's Z drive blast, and Jayce's confession) at peace with Jayce during the acceleration rune explosion/unmaking....because they're going together, both feeling the same about one another.. as partners...the only thing I think that all Viktor's ever wanted. > to address the Ekko/Powder verse of it all. I think that timeline hextech didn't happen because yes, Vi died in that one since she was the closest to the door at the time of the explosion, but if their blast was THAT much more powerful, there is NO way that Jayce who was way closer to the door would have survived either. No science bromance = no hextech. Power wouldn't have told Ekko that either because they don't know he was significant to Ekko, and frankly he never even asked about Jayce in the series during that episode either. - - - - - - - - - this is my hc and how I think stuff probably happened without getting to extra in the weeds with it... I thought even more elaborate stuff too, but that almost feels too much. I think this actually works? ***Edit/update: My brain kept cycling its theories and now I'm sad.

[call-me-mother-darling]

Maybe This Time She'll be Mine

Peggy Carter x Reader

Plot: Mrs. Carter is a regular at this coffee shop. What will happen when she arrives later than usual. 18+

Authors note: Woah second second time posting my writing. This one was a little difficult to write. It's my first time attempting something like this. Again feedback is encouraged. Maybe I will work on gifting you guys a spicy story.

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence and the use of whore. Mentions of one night stands, fluff, very slight requited love, blood, possessiveness, etc.

(Feel free to let me know if i missed anything)

Word Count: 1040

I never thought a coffee shop would change my life forever. 

I worked at this coffee shop for over three years. The managers were basically my family. We also soon become a popular place to come, ever since the avengers started coming here after missions. They would have blood and bruises all over their body. No matter what Peggy would always come every Thursday. I like to think she comes here to see me but most just arrive for their daily dose  of caffeine. Tomorrow just happened to be thursday. She’d come in  to get her usuals, a large iced cherry vanilla chai with extra cherry cold foam and a plain bagel with veggie cream cheese. She would pay no mind to me, it made sense though I was just a barista. There’s nothing special about me.

Till today,

The alarm on my phone went off at 4 am making me groan.

I sighed and opened my eyes wondering if I would see the beautiful woman. I chuckle at the thought.

 She’d never look at you.

I bit my lip to keep the sad thoughts at bay and began to slump out of bed. My feet touch the white fluffy carpet that lays next to my bed. I quickly put all my weight on my feet and get ready for work. 

I do nothing special. Just putting my hair in a slick back bun and my uniform. The only thing different was the huge hickey on the left side of my neck. I had attempted to cover it but that girl made it too dark. She was sweet but her mark has lasted a week already. But I was sure no one would bring it up. I take one last look in my mirror before grabbing my keys. My eye bags were evident for how little sleep I've been getting recently.

I walk to my kitchen counter and grab my keys before bolting out of the door. I shut the door behind me and lock it, checking it three times. You can never be too sure. The weather was beautiful this morning. Living in a small town the walk to work is only a ten minute walk. I soon arrive at work and with a quick motion I unlock the front door stepping inside. I make sure to lock it behind me. Once again checking three times. I stand there looking over the store to see how well the night crew actually did. Spoiler they didn’t do the best but I have to give them credit cause they deal with the shittest people. So I turn all the lights on along with the music. Today's choice being jazz, my favorite. I quickly restock all the coffee grounds, different kinds of milks, and concentrates. The closers covered the rest so we shouldn’t have to worry till the lunch rush.

As the day passes I begin to question if my favorite customer will come in. The day has been dragging with my hope fading. Maybe something happened to her, she's never not come in by lunch. It’s already nearing 5pm. Lucky enough I was picked up someone's shift so I am working a double. Hopefully that raises my chances of seeing her today.

It was nearing closing and I began to wipe down the tables. The golden bell above the door rang 

Without out even looking up I said “Sorry we are closed”

“I’m sorry my dear.” Her accent rang through the shop. 

My head snaps up and a wide smile appears. “Mrs. Carter, come to the front. I always have time for our best customer.” My excitement creeping to the surface.

“Darling, it’s Peggy to you.” She smiles and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. It’s always those pet names that get me.

“Of course Peggy. Your usual?” I smile and make my way behind the counter.

“Yes darling” she smiles her real smile.

As I’m making her drink I decided to be a little bit bold. 

Last time I tried Steve made me remake their drinks after throwing his hot coffee at my face. My manager let me go into the walk in to cry. I don’t think I stopped crying till the day after. Memories of that time pop in my head. He called me a whore and how if he could he’d kill me right now. Of course Peggy did apologize after but the damage was already done. I’ve never seen Steve again. 

“Have I ever told you, you have a gorgeous smile” I finish adding the cold foam to the chai and look up. 

I catch a blush and her smiling. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you're flirting.” She chuckled.

My eyes snap to her, making her lips pull into a smirk. She began walking towards me and around the counter with a little extra sway of her hips.

“Mrs. Carter” I say hoping to stop her but she walks fully behind the counter and walks towards me, I stumble back till my hips hit the table behind me. She got close to me so her breasts were almost touching mine.

“My pet, we talked about this. It’s Peggy to you and I am not married” I quickly nod looking down. My mistake. Her cleavage was perfect in that dress and it made my head snap up with my eyes closed. I missed the smirk that played on her face. She took a step closer pressing herself against me causing my brain to short circuit. 

“Mmmm I love how nervous you get around me. Tell me dear, do you get this-“ she raised her perfect eyebrow slowly eyeing our bodies together “submissive for anyone else?” Peggy asks smirking 

My mouth drops open and I shake my head no.  Still in absolute shock.

“No Peggy, only you”

“Good. I might have to steal you tonight. Would that be okay with that little one?” I hum in approval and rest my head against her shoulder. Being three inches shorter than her it’s easy.

“We’ll have to show whoever gave you this who you belong to now.” Her nail bit into the poorly concealed hickey as a soft his escaped my lips.

“You’re mine darling”

[justmeinadaze]

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.

I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.

Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.

I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...

Word Count: 5314

You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…

While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?

Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak. 

Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know. 

They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating. 

Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again. 

After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you. 

“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head. 

“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”

“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”

“We?”

“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well. 

You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”

“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.

“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”

Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back. 

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”

“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead. 

“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.

“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”

Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.

“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?” 

The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”

“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”

“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.” 

The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on. 

Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time. 

“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”

Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.

“Do…do you want to pet him?” 

His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head. 

“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.

“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.

Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you. 

“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”

Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door. 

****

When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook. 

“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed. 

“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”

Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.

Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about. 

“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”

Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”

“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”

“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”

Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”

“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”

“They have enough on their plates.”

“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”

The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”

###########

“You came back.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded. 

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”

The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.

No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.

“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.

Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.

You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.

“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”

“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned. 

You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap. 

“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”

He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily. 

“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back. 

“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”

As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back. 

“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”

“Is that not normal for him?”

“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”

“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.

“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”

“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”

“Should you be?”

His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.

“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”

“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”

“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.

“Sure.”

***

As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run. 

When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing. 

“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”

You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”

“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones. 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh. 

“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”

You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”

Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass. 

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”

“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.

The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him. 

Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold. 

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

############

It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.

While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.

“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”

“I could do that.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”

“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”

Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside. 

“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur. 

“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.

“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.

“Yeah, well, what would you know?”

“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”

“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”

“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”

Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”

He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way. 

“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”

“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you. 

“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”

Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.

“You to, Steve Harrington.”

****

The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy. 

“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”

“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”

“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”

You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”

“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”

“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”

“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”

“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”

You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”

He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”

“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”

“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”

“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds. 

“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”

Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.

“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”

“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”

As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW. 

“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”

“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”

“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car. 

“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”

“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”

“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”

“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”

“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”

The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”

Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely. 

“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper. 

When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.

Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head. 

“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”

Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval. 

“Ok. Sounds like fun.”

****

“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around. 

“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around. 

“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall. 

“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”

The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”

Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”

Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”

After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body. 

“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”

“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”

You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him. 

“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”

The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell. 

“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”

“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”

They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.

[fandomtherapy44]

TWD Daryl Dixion x Fem!Reader Chapter 4: Let's all calm down okay?

Summary: Y/n Grimes is a doctor who has a heart of gold and who wants to take care of everyone. She loves her family, but her whole world gets flipped upside down when her Dad goes into a coma, and a mystery virus is going around killing people. What will she do when she comes face to face with it? Read to find out more!

Paring: Daryl Dixion x Fem!Reader

WC: 3,066k

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warnings: Gore, sex, language, guns, and spoilers for TWD TV show series

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The air was mixed with high aromas that our bodies were giving off from tension and stress, and our brows were not just sweating from the Georgia heat but the fact Merel Dixion was not where he was supposed to be instead in his place his cut-off hand. Daryl is making small circles around the blood puddle going through all the possible things that could have happened to his brother. The rest of us were just waiting for his reaction hoping it wasn’t deadly. Daryl’s breath just gets heavier and heavier until he pulls his crossbow on T-Dog. Coming to a breaking point in his mind.

“DARYL!” Without knowing I voiced out, jumping in front of him my eyes now straight in front of the arrow. My Dad and Glenn's bodies reactivly pulling their weapons on Daryl just in case. 

“Y/n move now!” Dad told me like I was a child in a game but this wasn’t one.

“Daryl… I can’t imagine what you are going through right now but this is not the answer okay? I promised I would help find him didn’t I?” I don’t move my eyes from his. He nods. “Right so let’s do okay, that blood is fresh so he can’t be that far along we’ll find him.” He just stares hands shaking in his decision and to everyone’s relief, he puts the crossbow down.

“Thank you.” I nod my head at him.

“Don’t thank me yet not until we find Merle.” He moves to T-Dog again a lot more calmer this time. “You got a bandana?” T-Dog fishes out a blue one and handles it, Daryl, Daryl then bends down picks up the hand, and wraps it in the bandana. He then proceeds to put it in Glenn’s backpack. Glenn grimaced at it. 

“Y/n-” He tries.

“Hell no, Glenn.” 

“Oh come on-”

“Glenn I can’t put the hand with medical supplies, sorry.” I shrug my shoulders I mean I could since everything is in a package but Glenn didn’t need to know that.

“Enough with the chatter let’s go!” Daryl grabs his crossbow and is halfway to the door already. Glenn sighs and follows with T-Dog. We start to make our way down the stairs. And my Dad grabs my arm.

“Y/n why did you do that?” His blue eyes asked with words I forgot how comforting they were to look at.

“To be honest Dad… I don’t know all I know is that if it was Carl out here I wouldn't stop till I found him and I wouldn't want people to stop me, so I guess I can understand him.” I gave my answer I knew it didn’t make sense but it felt right when I said it.

“I guess I can understand but that was dangerous we don’t know Daryl and we don’t know his reactions so promise you won’t do that again.” He pleaded. 

“Okay, I won’t.” He squizzes my arm in comfort and keeps moving. 

==========

 The rooms of the building that we were going through looking for Merle were covered in dust and dirt, animals had taken over the spaces that the dead weren't habiting. A cracked shell of a building that once had a lively workforce behind it now the grey cold environment replacing it. Well, at least it’s easier to look for a missing person in it. Daryl was in front of our little search party taking out any of the straggling dead.

“It looks like Merle still was able to take out these sons of bitches even without his hand, rabies from an infested dog couldn't stop him, my brother.” Daryl pointed to the dead sounding proud of Merle.

“Any man no matter what will pass out from blood loss.” Dad pointed out as we moved on and he was right with that injury that Merle has I wouldn't be surprised if he was face down ass up in the next room. 

I smelled a burnt crisp smell in the air and I knew what it was. The next little room was a little kitchen that had a stove and a hot spa and on it was skin. 

“What is that?” Glenn asked almost gagging at the smell.

“It's skin Glenn it’s skin he cauterized the stump.” I held up the spatula. 

“I told you no one could stop Merle but Merle,” Daryl replied. Being relieved that his brother was still fighting

“Don’t get your hopes up yet. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Dad once again tries to put reality in his face.  Daryl seemed to take offense to that  

“Well, he still got out of this saw trap.” Daryl walks to the busted window and we all look down where only a bloody towel and broken glass were left but no Merel.

“He left! Why in the living Hell would he do that?” Glenn questioned and he was right why would he do that?

“To survive.” Daryl was still pissed.

“You call that surviving? To maybe pass out or encounter those freaks of nature out there.” T-Dog pointed out.

“it’s better than being left for a happy meal by you sorry assholes. You couldn't kill him he an’t worried about some freak stopping him.” Daryl got all up in Dad’s face.

“About a thousand of them? A whole different ballpark.” Dad shoved right back.

“I don’t care what ball game is being played. Do what you want I’m going to get him.” Daryl tried walking away but Dad wouldn't have it.

“Darl wait!” 

“Get your hands off me!” 

“Now I understand he’s family I went through hell to get back to mine.” He speaks and his eyes point to mine so does Daryl. “But we can’t go half-cocked down the streets with no plan this isn’t the old world anymore so we will help you check some more blocks but you have to keep your cool.” Daryl is silent and glances to me and I nod my head as to say ‘just trust me’.

“I can do that.” I give a small side smile and he sees it.

“Okay great but I am not doing Batman patrol without guns okay so the bag frist.” T-Dog aonnoced talking about the bag of guns that Dad had brought with him from the sheriff’s locker from the old unit.  

“Uh actually Batman doesn’t use guns.” Glenn said and the other three just look at him ‘like not the time’ and go out. 

“Don’t worry Glenn I understand your reference.” I pat his shoulder.

“Thanks Y/n.” 

“Anytime Glenn anytime.” 

===================

“So who’s going to get the guns?” Glenn asks and the other three just look at him.

“Oh come on!” 

“You got me out of that tank you're the man for the job.” Dad put confidence in Glenn.

“Okay, fine! I'll do it, but everyone follows my lead.” We all shake our heads in agreement. He gets a Sharpie, makes a little map on the ground, and gets random office junk to represent us.

“Okay there are three blocks and the bag is in the middle of the street so I want Daryl with me being back up and the three of you will be on the other side of the second block so that way I have backup on each side.” The way he talked he was so confident it was amazing to see.

“Why have me?” Daryl questioned.

“Your bow is quieter than his gun” Glenn was talking about my dad and he was right the gun would not win in the quiet contest.

“Makes sense, hey kid what did you do before this?”

“I delivered pizzas why?” Damn right, he did!

==================

Dad, T-Dog, and I were waiting when suddenly we heard a bunch of yelling and it didn’t sound so good. We run over to the alley and as we approach Glenn was being taken by a group of guys and Daryl was just getting beat up by two others. 

“DARYL GLENN!” I yelled and ran over and by the time we got over the group had taken Glenn and ride off but they also left one of their own. 

“OH I’M KICK YOUR ASS!” Daryl tried to jump him but Dad held him back.

“We need him Daryl we need him!” 

I am leaning against the counter listening to Daryl ingratiate Miguel the fourteen-year-old kid I am trying to think what the best course of action is here I want calm but at the same time they took Glenn so my anger was trying to take over my brain.

“Where did they take him?” Miguel rolled his eyes.

“Man, I'm not saying nothing. That hillbilly jumped me yelling about his brother as if it’s my fault he’s gone.”

“They took Glenn they could've taken Merel!” Daryl pointed out.

“Merel I wouldn't name my own dog Merle.” Now that made Daryl feral and pounced on Miguel and Dad had to pull him off again.

“You know what I did to the last guy that pissed me off.” Daryl pulls out Merle’s hand and throws it at Miguel.

“AHH!” He falls to the floor out of fear.

“I’ll start with the feet this time!” Okay, this clearly isn’t working.

“Daryl let me try okay?” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I got this.” 

I lean down to Miguel and meet his eyes. “Miguel I wouldn't be assaulting the guy's brother’s name okay that is not the smartest idea for anyone, especially to the one who just thearted that he would chop off your feet okay? Look all we want is our friend back I know you can understand that.” I was trying to convey everything with that last sentence and my eyes praying that humanity wasn't all sapped from this young man, thankfully there was.

“Okay, but keep him on a leash I don’t want an arrow in the ass like palbo.” He nodded at Daryl, well that’s fair. 

==========

Walking over to the location where the gang was staying was nerve-chopping, and the hot sun beating on us did not help. My brain did not stop thinking of what could be happening to Glenn my guilt steering the helm of my body. I should have said no I should have-

“Hey, doc?” I shake out of my self-pity party and turn my attention to Daryl.

“Huh?”

“You okay?” We were at the back of the group my Dad keeping on eye on Miguel and T-Dog having a gun ready just in case.

“You just look I don’t know lost.” He was right.

“I can’t stop thinking about Glenn and if something has happened to him…”

“I’m sure he’s fine he seems like a tough kid.” Daryl was right but the logical side of my brain was not working that well maybe it was the sun and not drinking enough water. 

“What if-” 

“It’s going to be okay Doc!” He physically shook me by the shoulders.

“Okay okay, your right.” I almost lost it again! I need to take control of my emotions or it’s going to screw up the mission. And I know I would never forgive myself if something happened to Glenn like with… Hunter.

=======

The outside of the garage looks abandoned but we knew Glenn and the men were in there. Our feet slowly made their way to the courtyard.

“We have your man come out here to get him!” Dad yelled out loud to the building and the rest of us had guns ready of course Daryl had his crossbow and T-Dog was on the top of another building as a sniper. He was especially hoping he wouldn't have to pull the trigger.

Doors open slowly and a man walks out with an attitude of ‘You really want to fucking do this?’. 

“You have our man and we have your man we want to trade.” Dad examined.

“You put an arrow in my man’s ass and kidnapped my other and you want to simply trade? You okay Miguel?” He turns to Miguel.

“They were going to cut off my feet Guillermo!” Miguel said with worry to him.

“You were going to cut off his feet, that’s sick man.”  

“Just give us Glenn!” Daryl yelled pissed off.

“Well, you see the thing is for everything you put us through I think we deserve our bag of guns.” Our!?

“That's my bag of guns that I brought all the way from home!” Dad said.

“In this world, it doesn’t matter what is yours anymore all that does matter is who is willing to fight for it,” Guillermo responded with a cold tone.

“Oh yeah okay, what about we kill your boy!” Daryl impatiently said back.

Guillermo cleared his throat and whistled and at the top of the warehouse, Glenn was being held by two men practically almost being pushed off. My heart felt as if it was going to leap out.

“You get our guns then we see about a trade.”

“No Guillermo please…” Miguel pleaded.

“You have until four.” He goes back to the warehouse the door closing with Glenn still inside and with him my heart.

==========

“Is Glenn really worth some of our guns?” Daryl asked and Dad and I both looked at him. We had come to an old office building going through the gun thinking about what to do next.

“Glenn could have left me in that tank I was an idiot and a stranger but he still saved me, so yes he’s worth it Daryl,” Dad spoke with such adramtion as he does with anyone about anyone.

“And you?” Daryl turned to me.

“I could have left you in the woods but I didn’t and Glenn is the same.” My eyes and my mouth told the truth and Daryl saw that.

“Okay, so what’s the plan because we are not really going to give up our guns right?”

“No, we're not they are just going to have to give Glenn back.” Dad packed the guns.

“No no, you can’t screw over Guillermo like that…” Miguel tried to argue. knowing what kind of war would happen if we did.

“For you better pray he lets us.” Daryl pushed back Miguel with that.

============

We have fake confidence and hope pumping through our bodies praying that nothing will happen walking back. It was more like the Wild Wild West than movies could ever be.

“Hey, you okay?” Daryl asks me.

My hand tightens on my gun. My chest with it. And all I saw was Glenn being hurt.

 “Yes.”

The big doors swing open and we go into the makeshift car garage guns raised. 

“Where are my guns?” Guillermo asks with such attitude that he bought them himself.

“There are guns and we want our friend back.” Dad fired back.

“You know what I’m going to feed your friend to my dog really nasty big snarlers with eating anything thrown their way.”

“You do that we shoot your boy right now.” Dad cucked his gun.

Guillermo chuckles and whistles and about fifteen men jump out with guns, well shit. At this point, we are all sweating waiting for someone to make the first move. Someone does just not who we were expecting.

“Phillipe Phillipe!” A little old lady comes out of the blue and goes to I guess Phillipe. And starts to tell him something in Spanish.

“Tell the old lady to get out of the way she’s in my way!” Daryl shouted.

The lady turned to us ready to let us have it. “You leave Guillermo and Phillipe alone they are good boys!” All of us were super confused.

“Phillpe Mr. Smith is having trouble breathing again!” My doctor's ears perk up at that.

“No one is leaving till we know where Glenn is.” Dad commanded.

“The Asian boy is with Mr.Smith.” The lady tells us like it’s common knowledge. What is happening?

=========

She starts to lead us through the garage to this senior home. We walk through the hallway seeing old people living a normal life. We come to the cafeteria and in the middle is a small group of people with Mr.Smith in the middle and Glenn right next to him.

“GLENN!” I exclaim with glee and practically run over and bear hug him.

“Whoa! Y/n I’m okay I promise.” He tells me trying to comfort me.

I pull back. “You sure?” He nodded and pulled him back in. Thank God. I then see Mr.Smith.

“Mr.Smith I’m Doctor Grimes do you mind if I look over you.” 

“A doctor? Wow, I've hit the jackpot!” I giggle at that no one has ever been that excited to hear that before. I started to check his breathing with my fingers on his pulse It seemed he had a small asthma attack.

“Okay, Mr.Smith I want you to sit up straight and just breath slowly okay?” I finish off with a smile. 

“Thank you, Ms.Grimes you are a true angel.” Hearing that tears prick at my eyes at least I could give comfort to an old man in his last few years especially now.

I then hear a bark and see three little chihuahuas. Viscous dogs huh? 

============

We had Glenn back and we were on are way back to the truck.

“Were you really that worried?” Glenn asks me and I am gobsmacked at that.

“Why would you ask that of course I was.”

“Well, I've never really had a friend care that much before.” That makes me so sad. I'm jealous of people who got to know Glenn in a normal everyday life. 

“Get used to it. Because I’m afraid you're stuck with me Glenn, sorry.” I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly and give him a smirk.

“I think I’m okay with that.” We bump shoulders while walking. 

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you.” Daryl is now beside me.

“No one would do that for Merel in the old world.” He pulls up his crossbow while looking at the ground.

“I didn’t do it for Merel,” I responded.

“I know.” 

========

The truck is missing the truck is fucking missing! 

“Merle… he’s alive.” Daryl was right he’s the only one that makes sense.

“He took our TRUCK!” T-Dog screamed.

“Well let’s start walking we should reach camp by an hour into nightfall if we start walking now.” My feet start moving leading us not knowing the horrors that waited back at camp.

===================

chapter 5 ----- >

[decaying-sunflower]

gonna put a trigger warning for this one : mentions of suicide, self-harm, eating disorders and parasitism(?)

also warning for my friends : i am doing okay, i wrote this about the time when i was 13 and well... not doing okay. so anyway, here goes something.

Distant chatter. The voices are indiscernible. Neither in their content, nor in their location. The space you are in is tight and the walls feel like they are closing in on you. Suffocating. Where is everyone? They are busy, eating. You cry into your arms, while sitting on a closed toilet seat. Is there blood on the floor? Or is just a mirage? Wishful thinking? Your eyes are weary and you shiver slightly. Did the air already escape your lungs? Is this future fast approaching? Real comfort is a quality of the distant past, might as well give up, lie down on the cold, white tiles, let the red of your dying life-force stain the white tiles, so as to not lose your sanity from the lack of colour in this entirely white room. You are not a prisoner. 

But of course you are. This body is not your home. The chatter is in an unfamiliar language. The people out there, who are busy eating, talking, living, are not your friends. You are locked up within the confines of these four white walls. Sure, by your own free will, but you are a prisoner no less. Freedom awaits. Come on, suck your tears back up, bandage that bloodied arm and forth we go. But no, you won’t do that. They haven’t eaten you yet. 

The confine feels safe, does it not? You are a wonderful host if you believe that. You put a tapeworm inside your intestine and it inhabits your body like a veritable home. Is that so much to ask for? A home? The white walls of the bathroom stall will do just fine. Distant chatter. They are busy, eating. Your sandwich lies in the bathroom bin. Six almonds for the tapeworm and nothing for you. If you are starving the suffering is real, and not a prison the door of which you can easily unlock with your own two hands that lay heavy on your thighs. It feels like the world transforms every time you blink your eyes. Last you remember you had a home, and now every summer you come back to that place it grows and changes without you, without your permission or even your scrutiny. Your body has been changing too. You’ve grown utterly unrecognisable. Maybe if you don’t eat, the big ugly face with arrows will stop moving, and gently look at you, and be like, hey, we can wait, we don’t need to move so fast, we can go back even. But you don’t want that, do you? There is nothing you want. You don’t want change or stability, you do not want to die, or even to simply cease to exist. There is exactly nothing in this whole wide world you could possibly want. And yet you cry, and scream into the void about how you want to come back home, because as long as you want something, not everything is hopeless. Spoiler, there is no home and you will never come back there, or even if you do, all rooms will be mere ghosts of their former selves and everyone you find there will be either dead or changed or worse, forgotten. 

The arrows march on, and yet, through the sheer repetition of the same presence within the same space at the same hour of every day this moment transfigures into a strange new form of existence that does not appear to possess an end or to ever have had a beginning. You sit there, crying. Sad music in your headphones, spoken poetry about suicide, unrequited love, loneliness, depression and so on. It feels ugly to make ending it all seem so easy. Everyone fears death, all the time, but when it comes to actually taking your fate into your hands, dying doesn’t come as easy as you believed it would. There is a long way till you reach the fingertips of death and even longer till you get to fall into its cold, welcoming arms. The moments feel disconsolate. There is no one to call for help. They are busy, eating. Rest now, the end is near, soon you can give into the distant, peaceful feeling, fall into it and never stop falling. You close your eyes and try to imagine how it would feel to fall, how it would feel when your skull would crack open and everything that allows you to experience and feel and think would spill out like an ugly soup. 

In your isolation, you begin to talk, first quiet whispers, then real conversation. Are you talking to yourself? Or to the tapeworm that hums low, eerie melodies to occupy all the empty space? It’s a beautiful melody, is it not? The little creatures of the earth hum the eerie tune when they devour whatever is left of your withering body. A hole dug out in the earth on a gloomy day in the last days of winter does not feel so different from the four walls of the bathroom stall. Tight, constricted space. You will lose something dear to you in this space, and even if you get it back, something will always be missing. You will die. But you won’t die. Don’t worry, there is nothing you should fear. It is the end of winter. Spring is soon approaching. 

Red lines. Spilled blood. A wish to be a sacrifice. Why don’t you make use of your flesh? It is the only thing you own, and even that feels so unwanted. You bring your bloodied arm to your mouth and taste it. You enjoy bleeding. Panic and peace. Your mind fractures, you are like a broken mirror. Seven years of bad luck. You are thirteen, you will have to wait till twenty to feel okay again, if you even make it that far. You don’t believe you will make it till this night with the rate at which the red liquid leaves your body. You, in the bathroom of your house that does not and will never feel like home. Ghosts roam this place, and while over the years of inhabiting a house filled with ghosts and being a ghost yourself, you will grow accustomed to their presence and not be frightened by them anymore, they used to instil such fear in you as a child. It seemed the whole building was possessed by a dark, gloomy presence that would afflict everyone who dared enter this house. You are in the bathroom on the second floor. There is a shower that shattered several months ago, but has since been fixed. You don’t know why it shattered, but you remember that on the day it did you were very happy. You ran straight to your room, passing by the bathroom. You wish you would’ve looked inside, but you didn’t, you went straight to your room and giggled happily in bed. You don’t remember why you were happy that day, it is not the point of the story anymore. And then you found out the shower was all broken, little pieces of glass on the floor. And suddenly it felt like your fault, because you didn’t look in, didn’t check if it was this way when you arrived. Stupid shower, stupid little pieces of glass. But you did tell yourself, it was your fault, because you let yourself be happy, for the first time in this horrid, alien place. And you hadn’t been happy afterwards, be it by your own free will, or by the will of some higher power, some kind of fate you don’t even believe in. Stupid broken pieces of glass. But don’t get too lost in the past now. Your arm is bleeding. Better do something about it. 

Panic. You look through the bathroom cupboard for a bandage and some alcohol to disinfect the wound. It is your wound. The only part of your body that you do not despise. You do not find alcohol, you find a mouthwash. That has alcohol in it, right? Your mind is clouded, foggy and fragmented. You take lots of toilet paper and pour the mouthwash over it, spilling half of it on the bathroom floor. You apply the wet paper to your arm, and exhale all the fog that sat within your lungs, as the pain, the sheer agony grows larger than life itself. You cry. You love the pain. You hold your arm tightly and sit back down on the toilet seat. Distant chatter. They are busy, eating. It is lunch break and you cry in a bathroom stall. It is a beautiful sunset and you have buried your body in a forest. You hear music. Beautiful, eerie melody sung by the little creatures of the earth as they devour your flesh. You smile. They sing this song for you as you take your final breath. Inhale and exhale all the fog that had been suffocating you for years. You can let go now. You are falling. There is nothing you need to hold onto anymore. The worms and maggots are grateful for your sacrifice. Peace. 

The cuts are smaller than you remember them when you lift up the toilet paper that you held tightly to your arm. You thought you would surely need stitching, but now they look like all your other red scars. You are not in the same reality you were in moments ago. Something changed. You died. But you didn’t die. You continue holding your arm and you cry. You haven’t felt this alone in a while. The melody stopped. The tapeworm died. You thought something would happen. Death — the ultimate orgasm. You would reach a pic, feel the explosion grander than those of dying stars, the whole universe would detonate and then — nothingness. But it didn’t happen this way. You are sitting in the bathroom on a closed toilet seat, holding toilet paper covered in mouthwash to your arm, and crying to the music playing in your headphones. A song that feels like rain. The bleeding ceases. The worms eat your heart. The pulse stops. Inhale and exhale. Deep breaths. In and out. Yes, good. Keep breathing. In and out. Yes, yes, that’s good. Keep going. Big inhale. And exhale. Good, good. Here, hold my hand. You’re doing so good. Inhale and exhale. In and out. Deep breath in. Hold it. And… let it all out. That’s good. You’re okay. I’m here. You’re not alone anymore. 

Your body feels cold and lifeless. Distant screams. She died. It’s not real though. What is real is you here, sitting in the bathroom stall while everyone is having lunch. Repetition of the same pattern, days on end. You here, lying in the earth, consumed, devoured. Your body — sustenance. You are decomposing now. You are in the bathroom on the second floor of the house inhabited by ghosts, sitting on the toilet seat, taking deep breaths. You are not alone anymore, and you never will be again. Your skin is turning purple, like that of a corpse. You feel like a ghost, see-through and insipid. The blood on your arm is drying. The hand that held you, has now penetrated your mind and made a home inside your imagined world. You hug your knees to your chest and sit for a while. You turn off the music and close your eyes. What on earth just happened? 

Distant chatter. The voices are indiscernible. You died and you didn’t die in the bathroom on the second floor of the house inhabited by ghosts. You flush the toilet paper that is now covered in your blood. You clean up the floor, onto which you spilled the mouthwash in your state of panic. You pull down your long sleeves over the scars that are now crusted, and finally, you unlock the bathroom door. Chatter. Still indiscernible. You take another deep breath and go down the staircase. The noise is coming from the kitchen. They have eaten now. You come into the room and everything feels exactly the same as when you ran off and locked yourself in the bathroom. The earth kept on spinning, people kept on talking, laughing, eating. You feel the dread, don’t you? You want to laugh, the absurdity of it all. The round, ugly face with arrows keeps marching on, but some vital part of you is gone now. You lost something and you found something. You sit on the couch next to the table. You don’t eat. The tapeworm is gone now, there is no one you want to feed anymore. The fog is back. It feels stronger now than before. Everything is grey and hazy. It’s going to be a while till everything will be okay. Hold onto my hand now. I know, I know. It feels agonising when everyone acts like shit’s normal while you’ve held the fucking hand death. 

[ilovewhiteroses]

Hi darlings! As you all know, Justified: City Primeval is based on Elmore Leonard's novel, "City Primeval: High Noon in Detroit" (1980). I thought it would be interesting to pick out a few excerpts from it to get to know a little bit more of Clement Mansell, whom will Boyd portray in the series. Warning: contains sexual references and violence Spoilers, I guess:

- Clement liked views from high places after years in the flatlands of Oklahoma and feeling the sky pressing down on him. It was the same sky when you could see it, when it wasn’t thick with dampness, but it seemed a lot higher in Detroit. He would look up there and wonder if his mom was floating around somewhere in space.

- Clement sat back on the couch, exposing the pair of bluebirds tattooed above his pure-white breasts. When they had first met three and a half years ago at a disco, Clement had said, “You want to see my birds?” and opened his shirt to show her. Then he’d said, “You want to see my chicken?” When Sandy said yes he pulled his shirt out of his pants and showed her his navel in the center of his hard belly. Sandy said, “I don’t see any chicken.” And Clement said, “It’s faded out; all that’s left is its asshole.”

- ONE TIME CLEMENT WAS RUN OVER by a train and lived. It was a thirty-three-car Chesapeake & Ohio freight train with two engines and a caboose. Clement was with a girl. They were waiting at a street crossing in Redford Township about eleven at night, the red lights flashing and the striped barrier across the road, when Clement got out of the car and went out to stand on the tracks, his back to the engine’s spotlight coming toward him at forty miles an hour. Yes, he was a little high, though not too high. He was going to jump out of the way at the last second, turned with his back to the approaching train, looking over at the girl’s face in the car windshield, the girl’s eyes about to come out of her head. Instead of jumping out of the way Clement changed his mind and laid down between the tracks. The train engineer saw Clement and slammed on the emergency brake, but not in time. Twenty-one cars passed over Clement before the train was brought to a stop and he crawled out from beneath the twenty-second one. The train engineer, Harold Howell of Grand Rapids, said, “There was just no excuse for it.” Clement was taken to Garden City Hospital where he was treated for a bruised back and released. When questioned by the Redford Township Police Clement said, “Did I break a law? Show me where it says I can’t lay down in front of a train if I want?”

- Clement tucked Raymond Cruz’s business card into the elastic of his briefs and took hold of Sandy’s arms, sliding his hands up under the satiny sleeves and tugging her gently against him. He said, “What’re you nervous about, huh? You never been nervous before. You need one of Dr. Mansell’s treatments? That it, hon bun, get you relaxed? Well, we can fix you up.

- “That’s right,” Raymond said, “or he could be in that highrise over there, twenty-five-oh-four. If you remember Clement, he’s got very large balls. The papers at the time called him the Oklahoma Wildman, but he’s more like a daredevil, a death defier . . .” “Evel Knievel with a gun,” Herzog said. “That’s right, he likes to live dangerously and he likes to kill people.”

- Clement said, “Sugar, I told you I want a regular car. I ain’t gonna street race, I ain’t gonna hang out at the Big Boy; I just need me some wheels in your name till things get a little better. Now here’s seven one-hundred-dollar bills, all the grocery money till we get some more. You buy a nice car and pick me up over there—if I can make it across Telegraph without getting killed—where you see that sign? Ramada Inn? I’ll be in there having a cocktail.”

- Clement stared at his little partner, waiting for what she said to make sense. Finally he said, “Honey? . . . I want to talk to this man, I don’t want to dance with him.” “Well, what if he doesn’t want to go there?” “Hey, aren’t you with the good hands people?” Clement inched his own hand over as he said it and caught Sandy between her slender legs. “Aren’t you?” “Cut it out.” “Why, what’s this?” Clement closed his eyes as he felt around. “Whiskers? You growing whiskers on me?” “That hurts.” “Yeah, but hurts good, don’t it? Huh? How ’bout right there? Feel pretty good?” Sandy rolled toward him, pushing out her hips, then stopped. “I ain’t gonna do it less you brush your teeth.” “Come on,” Clement said, “we don’t have to kiss. Let’s just do it.”

- Clement grinned at him. “Well, it don’t matter. We’re here to talk about the basics of love anyway, aren’t we, partner?” He paused, cocking his head. “Listen. Hear what they’re playing? ‘Everybody Loves a Winner,’ ” Clement half singing, half saying it. “That’s a old Dalaney and Bonnie number.” “You’re sure full of platter chatter this evening,” Sandy said. “You ought to get a job at CXI and get paid for it.” “Well, I got nothing against work. I come a piece from the oil fields to the world of speculation, Clement said, seeing Sandy rolling her eyes as he tightroped along the edge of truth. “But I’d rather see my investments do the work than me, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

- “Clement, really, if you’ll stop and think for a minute . . .” His hands slipped inside the roughcotton garment, moved up her body and felt her elbows come in tightly, her eyes staring into his. “What you think I’m gonna do to you? . . . Huh? Tell me.” He moved his thumbs across her breasts. “Hey, your nobs’re sticking out . . . That feel pretty good? Juuuust brush ’em a little, huh? . . . They get hard as little rocks.” His right hand moved lightly down her side to her hip, their eyes still holding. “Now what am I gonna do? . . . That your belly button right there? . . . My, we don’t have no panties on, do we?” His voice drowsy. “Tell what you think I’m gonna do to you . . . Huh? Come on . . .” Clement drew his right hand out of the caftan, bringing it down past his own hip, curled the hand into a fist and grunted, going up on his toes, as he drove the fist into Carolyn’s stomach. Once he got her into the shower, the caftan off her shoulders, pinning her arms, Clement gave Carolyn a working over with a few kidney punches and body hooks, a couple of stinging jabs to the face before a right cross drew blood from her nose and mouth and he turned the shower on her. The job was trying to keep her on her feet, glassy-eyed and moaning, Clement doubting she had much air left in her. He gave Carolyn a towel and guided her back to the desk in the window bay, bright with afternoon sunlight. Opening the checkbook, Clement said, “Let’s see now how much you want to give me.

- “Clement’s only been to prison once,” Sandy said. “He’s been to jail plenty of times, but he’s only spent like a year in a regular prison. He says he won’t ever go back again and I believe him. God, he makes up his mind to something . . . but he’s so unpredictable.

[checkoutmybookshelf]

That Isn't What I Pictured When You Said "Speak From Your Heart"

So...guys. This book. This is the book where we get Haven. This is the book where we get companions. This is the book where we get heralds. This book should have been legitimately awesome and...like...yes, but also no? Let's talk Valdemar.

So as the very brief intro probably clues you into, this is a SPOILERIFIC ZONE. There are SPOILERS HERE. Consider yourself warned.

This book picks up after what feels like ten-odd years of the Valdemarans having been living in Haven, which is thriving. They have surplus, they have trade amongst themselves, they're developing their infrastructure, and they're starting to look past survival and at what they want to build. We are told about the plagues, infestations, and other stuff the Valdemarans have overcome while they settled and grew Haven, but when the book actually opens, they're sitting pretty and starting to get to a point where they can do things that start to feel like luxuries.

They're doing real good, so of course we have to fuck that up somehow.

The weird thing about that though, is the pacing and subplots of this book, and also the fact that this book is...NOT GOOD at disability. I went into that pretty deeply in this post, so I'm not going to repeat myself here. But despite still enjoying Kordas as a character and going giddy fangirl over watching the Valdemar I know and love take shape, the structure of this book landed a bit funny with me.

Until the last quarter or so of this book, the driving force behind this book is Kordas's anxiety that Valdemar won't outlive his son's reign, because humans are inherently the worst and without a strong, moral, great human leader the kingdom will fall to base savagery. And y'all, I live in the 2020s. I don't even disagree that humanity's worst is BAD. I do kind of have a problem with Kordas's logic being waaaaaaaaaaaaaay too similar to Trumpian strongman "I am the only one who can fix it" but leaning more toward lawful good ("only a good man can fix it" but we never actually define "good man" more clearly than "Kordas and Restil" so it's a whole thing) than chaotic evil. That's more or less what the companions fix though, so I can get on board with Kordas's thought experiment and working through the anxiety about his legacy.

Once the companions show up though, then we get back to the Kordas I enjoy most: the avid, highly-detailed planner. This man and the first grove-born companions have to basically come up with the heraldic circle on the fly, and watching the heralds be born was VERY fun. That was just great.

I do need to take a minute to call out THAT scene, though. Because here's the thing. By the time this book was written, the lore of Valdemar's founding was pretty set. As it is told in Arrows of the Queen:

...he waited till Midsummer's Day; he went out into the middle of what we call Companion's Field now, and he asked every god he'd ever heard of to help him. [...] Well, he started out at dawn; it wasn't till sunset that he got an answer. Everything went kind of light all over, like when you get too much sun on snow, and all he could hear was the sound of hoofbeats--hoofbeats that sounded just like bells. When the light cleared away, there were three horses standing in front of him; horses with coats the color of moonshine and eyes like pieces of sky.

Which has a sort of grandeur and dignity to it. However, as is kind of a theme with the heralds in general, the stories and the realities rarely match up. And a thousand years of narrative drift also explains some of the differences in details, because there are MANY. Kordas's plea to the gods in Valdemar takes the better part of a chapter, so I'm not going to quote it at you here.

What I will say about it though, is that it took place in the middle of the dang night, and it was less a prayer and more like the scenes in Lerner and Lowe's Camelot where Arthur is onstage monologuing to himself about ethics and sorting out what he should do about whatever decision he is facing at that point in the play. This chapter in Valdemar reminds me most strongly of the closing monologue after Lancelot is knighted, and Arthur is like, "Oh this is gonna be so bad, but all I can do is run the course and be king." However, where Arthur is destined for tragedy, Kordas actually gets some help. Which is impressive because the vibe is half angsty King Arthur and half "character on the West Wing can't sleep and so monologues to the gods." Which honestly...the description still feels like it has more grandeur and dignity than the experience of reading it did, because you're not watching Kordas pace and monologue, you're literally in his head. It's a very weird take on this, and it's not what I was expecting, but I think it did work, for some definition of work.

What I think absolutely did not work was the fact that Mercedes Lackey decided that this was also the book to tell the full story of Shadowdancer and Sunsinger--who those of you familiar with the Valdemar music will recognize from their 2005 album, Sun and Shadow. We also get their legend in Arrows of the Queen. Unfortunately...they're very secondary characters in this book, and despite Rothas pulling a Bard ex machina at the end, they kind of feel completely disconnected from the rest of the founding narrative. Like, I was happy with their legend being in song and retold, I was not jonesing for Rothas and Lythe's story here. It was just kind of...crowbarred in and we never really got to know Lythe at all. I truly do not think this part of the book worked. I appreciate the attempt at complicating the concept of lifebonds, but it broke the narrative's spine a little because there wasn't enough space to really explore it.

The other thing that didn't work was how fast the big bad for this book blew up and how equally fast she was defeated. There was also some ugly sanism around her characterization, and I did not love that. She was a Hawkbrother apprentice who...randomly went mad for *cough* inaudible mumbling *cough* reasons, murdered her bondbird, and fucked off into the wilderness before showing back up with blood magic to try to throw monsters at Haven's gates to conquer it. The book tries to give her a tragic backstory and connection to Silvermoon to add some emotional weight to her, but it doesn't land. The big climactic battle feels weirdly underwhelming, and honestly I would have been fine with this book focusing more on building the heraldic circle and like...diplomacy with other settlements around Haven. Random big climactic battle with crazy mage lady felt off tonally and a bit like an editor went "this is a fantasy book, put a big battle at the end." Which I don't think is what actually happened, given Lackey's fame and experience, but that's what if FEELS like.

So the TLDR on this book is that seeing Valdemar and the Heraldic Circle get born was awesome, the character work was mostly good, but there was some weird tonal dissonance and some really problematic ableism and sanism that kind of soured the reading experience for me.

[taegularities]

Btw I finally read Entertainer because I was free last night after a long time and when I read especially your works I like to take my time to take every word and every line in and oh my god it was great. I have so much to say about it but idk just what to say cause that fic got me thinking and uhh I'll probably say things that won't really make sense cause my thoughts are so jumbled up right now so please don't mind it.

I was so excited to read it that's why I read cmi palette first and I have to say that it lived up to it. I was avoiding and asks about it cause I didn't want to spoil it for myself and I generally love spoilers so it's a big thing that I was avoiding any. The warnings gave me an idea of what it could be so I was anticipating it. His craving for OC was just so pathetic to see. OC is such a badass and mysterious in the beginning. She and Cmi OC are my favs I have to say. I loved how she'd reject his advances and he'd be agitated.

“Consent is consent. He's grown up now.” (I'm sorry if that wasn't the line but it was something along those lines) and the “sexual harassment” in the warnings had me go ohh I'm damn sure now but nevertheless it was ever worse than that. You said not to fall for him and I made sure to remember it and thank goodness I didn't 😮‍💨 I love love love OC for this so much, I'm straight but she got me questioning my sexuality (not really but you know what I'm talking about) I swear if she was a man I woulda put a ring on it cause there's no way in hell I am letting that goddess go but then again MEN can NEVER match a woman's energy like that much less OC's.

Jungkook just wanted to fuck her and that was clear from the beginning, he was intrigued by her and his want to unfold her secrets was what made him want her even more. He just wanted a taste. His inner monologue about him being selfish but not bad was a giveaway of his egotistical personality and I'd say narcissistic too. His blindness to his mistake, his inability or him being incapable of accepting it and taking accountability just shows how terrible of a person he is. That mistake was a prank to him and he kept calling it one repeatedly which is just so disgusting.

I wouldn't say anything about the smut but only because of the whole story, after what he did to Jangmi I couldn't really bring myself to “enjoy” it but if we Only talk about the smut part separately without knowing the whole context I'd say that you slayed it just like every time.

I have to be honest I stopped listening to the playlist once I got to the “morning after” part. It was intense and the tension was there in the room like a huge entity engulfing each and every corner of the room and every being in that room, not that it wasn't there before but this time things were more intense.

I was holding my breath the whole time I was reading the rest of the fic. The way OC said “I'll stay till my feet tingle” was just 🤌 and before the performance everything was just chef's kiss. What OC did to him was definitely what he deserved. The way all his dreams of conquering the world through his music and his determination and hard work went in vain. He lost it all and that was satisfying to see. Jangmi was such a sweet and pure soul and my heart aches for her. She loved someone who did not know what it was, someone who didn't deserve to be loved and she suffered so much because of it. She didn't deserve it, not a single ounce of it but she suffered. I wonder how you can do such horrible things to someone without feeling like offing yourself and I don't think I wanna know how it feels. It's heartbreaking how she lost her life and how she wasn't happy in her last days. I hope she's in a better place now.

Oh yeah and the hints were everywhere. In subtle lines and actions. Not obvious, you just had to pay attention to certain lines more than the others to catch onto it and I loved how my mind was working to process those things and trying to come up with what they could possibly mean.

This fic is a masterpiece, Rid. And you say that you were just experimenting? God knows how much I love this fic. I love all your works and this one wasn't any different. And I think I've said this before as well that I'd read your works if you published them in the form of a book and this one is definitely one that would be a great one. You should definitely write more such fics. Reading this right after cmi was...well so different cause the Jungkook we see in cmi and the Jungkook in Entertainer are polar opposites. I have no words to describe how much I want to kiss your hands rn. You know what? I think I'm rambling now and you'll probably find me praising Entertainer again some time later cause I think I might have more to sya about it 😅Thank you so much for writing this and putting it out for us to read as well. I'm sorry it's kinda long. Love you and your works 💕💕

'that fic got me thinking' YAAAS that's the best thing ever, when something makes you think 😭 there is indeed so much to think about when it comes to entertainer and i loved all of your thoughts so much. (sorry for responding so late, though, but as you said, i like taking my time with such thoughtful reviews too 🥺)

the fact that you were avoiding spoilers is crazy :') and right, he was so pathetic, wasn't he?? like, you can be sweet about wanting someone or you can be ridiculous and not take a hint and keep trying just by you're horny :| cmi and entertainer oc as favourites??? okay if people love these two, i can die in peace lmao

yeah, the consent is consent and growing up line was a biiiig hint (and you're so right, they were everywhere, albeit subtly at times). like, he used to not know it, and honestly, he still doesn't quite understand it, bc the things he did with oc aren't really… desired. i'm glad you didn't fall for him haha he def doesn't deserve it. oc though… 🤣 i understand crushing on her lmao i lowkey do, too. yup yup, him calling it a prank and justifying things really indicates quite clearly what kind of a person he is. and honestly, no good person would think about themselves that 'they're not a bad person, just a little selfish' like 💀 dude.

it's so nice to know that you listened to the playlist at all! i always wonder if people do haha. yet, i also get pausing it, because after that whole chaos, you'd need all your focus for the last scene. so so glad you liked everything about it. it was intense to write but i was also very nervous, bc i couldn't fully say what y'all would think about it. in the end, yes, he deserved losing everything and jangmi deserved better.

it was an experiment for sure yes, and i'm happy i succeeded with it 😭 omg entertainer as a novel, freaking imagineeee!! thank you for saying this. it's hard jumping out of the comfort zone, but i enjoy it, so might come back with another experiment at some point <3 will take all kisses :P and ALSO YEEES, come back anytime haha i'd love to hear your thoughts bc they're so insightful!! thank you so much, love, i'm so freaking appreciative of you and so beyond grateful that you're here. love you sm <3

[thecalmnessandthestorms]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 1: Steer- Fate's Fickle Thread

(Warning for Endwalker Spoilers) The hands of fate are a fickle thing. Not meant to be tampered with, meant to move forwards and onwards as the ticking of a clock. Once I believed fate could be turned, the clock's hands could move in reverse. Change what has been lost to time, and mistakes, and grief. Bring back a world of beauty and peace long forgotten by all but for scattered memories and dreams. I believed it was possible, we all did. But it was not meant to pass. 

You see, time has its direction and its directives. The soul may yearn, and wish, and dream. Oh will it wish and dream! But one must tell it: “what's gone is gone, the past has been written, it's time for a new tale, a new chapter.” I have learned this through trial, through grave error. Through love and loss of great measure. But I know one thing well and that's-

“Rowan!” Rowan put down her quill with a small sigh as Seraphiaux knocked on the door to her apartment and called to her. She was happy he was more full of energy lately. Less afraid. On the other hand, however, these were thoughts that needed to be put to the page. Important, crucial thoughts for the future. 

He would just knock again though, she knew it. 

With another sigh Rowan stood to open her door, revealing the brightly smiling young man behind it.

 …By the Star it was infectious. 

“Is there a reason for the excitement here?” She questioned. There certainly was, and Rowan was sure she'd be finding out, only hoping that it was NOT a disaster of sorts this time. 

“I- I got some of the seeds Alastor gave you to sprout! In the greenhouse! The ones you said came from the place in your dreams?” Sera looked a little sheepish then. Afraid he'd been just a little too much about it. “S-sorry. I… got a little carried away, but- but it's exciting! Right? A plant long lost coming back even in a small degree? I- I thought you might want to come see! If you aren't busy?”

Rowan smiled at him reassuringly and put a hand near his shoulder, only touching it when Sera gave a slight nod. “If you give me just a moment to finish my journal entry, I'll be over, okay, Sweetie?”

With just a quick nod, he was off, and Rowan could return to her desk. Finish her thoughts where she left off just moments ago.

-that fate is not ours to control. We of the Ascians tried to steer the realm backwards. Back in time. Back to before the Star was split across ten and three. A time which wasn't perfect, but was lovely, and beautiful. 

Yet this world is too, even without a hand trying to steer its course. Since the fall of Zodiark, I have made up my mind. Made up my mind to live and learn. See this realm till my end and aid it in flourishing in the little ways I can. Just like the ancient realm, it's beautiful. Imperfect, but the people have such passion, such spirit! I hope you can be proud of me, Old Man from wherever you so gaze upon us from the aetherial sea. Proud of Azem too, who's spirit still lives on in others, ever the curious soul that they always have been. 

The path we walk now is our own, and I am quite finished with trying to alter the course of things. I'll never forget the looks on people's faces of joy and wonder when I danced the tales from my dreams, the ones which still remain as I do so. Yet, I no longer feel the need to restore that place. Merely keep its memory alive. In the hearts and minds of others, in a song, in a dance, in the smallest of sprouts it yet lives! 

The road ahead is uncertain, but now I steer fate towards a new path. I steer it towards where my heart takes it, ever winding, ever new. I steer it towards a new story, a new chapter, and ever am I longing to see where it leads… 

[secretivemessenger]

long time no see... 🫣

Sugarbaby!BtmZhongli x ProviderTop!MR

Now everybody and they mfing mama know zhongli broke asf 😒..

but the past few days he's been "working" with you he's begun to grow some affection. You specifically told him not to catch feelings and what does he do? catch fucking feelings. Good thing you don't know that...or maybe you do and you're just not saying anything? Maybe you're waiting for a chance to humiliate him? He wouldn't be mad if you did.

he pondered and pondered, going insane from the thought that you might reject him. Anytime he'd see you walking the streets of Liyue he'd immediately walk the other direction, just hoping you didn't see him. Too bad the feeling of desperation eventually came up to him and he was left touch starved, so he thought of the most reasonble solution.

pathetically ask for Mora because he totally did not spend it all on random shit so he could have his sweet moments with you.

TWS!

Spanking, Impact play, humiliation, begging, deep throat, gagging, ect.

I have a feeling a fangic like this had already been made but I much prefer to see you write it

Failed Contract

Bottom zhongli x top male reader

Rating: NSFW

warnings: Friends w benefits! Unrequited love! Mean reader! Deep throating! Face fucking! Spanking! Orgasm denial! Multiple orgasms! Fingering! Angst at the end?!

Author note: ahem- so uh… i know this took sooooo long to come out 😀 so long like more than three months. Im sorry 😭 but is just that I never had the motivation to do it but now i do (somehow).

Kinda hate this ngl-

The moment this all began, the both of you agreed on one thing thats considered as a part of the “terms and conditions”. And that was, don’t catch feelings. do and this is all over. - These were your very own words.

He thought it would got smoothly for him. Getting the money from you in exchange to you using his body however you like, then you’ll just continue to live on your life like it never even happened. And he never worried about “catching feelings” or such.

He took this a bit too lightly for his own good. After spending more time with you without even realizing it, he was head over heels for you.

And so he broke the only rule you had set for him. He knows if you found out this would all be over, but he doesn’t want that. He still wants you, he still wants to feel your hands on him. Even if he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this was, he still want his heart to continue beating for you. But he’s sure as hell you don’t feel the same. And he knows that it would only end badly if you were to find out.

So the only logical option is for him to distant himself. Because he knows how bad he is at holding himself back when near you.

Well spoilers: that did not work. It only resulted in him being more desperate then he ever was. It felt like torture away from you, and you didn’t approach him first and it made him even more desperate.

Till he said “Fuck it” and hurriedly went running looking for you. He just wants to be near you and held by you, even if it’s only you holding his legs up to give yourself better access inside him.

Once he found you he knew exactly whats the magic word that he had to say. “Got any mora to spare?”. Per your agreement, if he wanted money he had to satisfy you first.

Without a word you went back to your house with zhongli following behind like a little puppy. Upon reaching the house and closing the door he didn’t waste a singular second and sat down on his knees mouth wide open waiting for you to do however you please.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious desperation in his eyes. Along side the adorable desperate eyes is an eager one, wanting to please and be pleased already.

Saliva dripped down his opened mouth, with his tongue sticking out. You always found the shape of his tongue so fascinating. it was paler than normal human tongue and much more longer. You can already imagine how it would feel like around you.

You pressed your index to the surface of his tongue. observing his reaction as you moved your fingers deeper, tracing his tongue as you made your way down his throat.

He looked so majestic. Slowly gagging at your fingers invading his mouth, almost at the verge of tears. You made his body twitch needly because of the way you looked down at him. Almost like he was some type of a dessert, and you were ready to eat him whole.

Soon the desperation turned to arousal which turned to greed. He wanted more of you rather than just fingers, even if he didn’t say it directly you can see it deep down his eyes. He wanted to be messed up, so why deny him?.

You wasted no time in undoing your pant, already half hard. The sight of your cock always made his mouth water and eyes shine with lust. Wanting you inside of him sooner rather than later.

Slowly guiding him to take you in his mouth. His tongue wrapped around your cock hungrily. His oh so warm mouth, it made you pant loudly. “Amazing as always” you said it with a hint of amusement in your tone of voice. You grunted while throwing your head back, it felt fucking incredible. His tongue working your cock so good, throat so tight around you “such a good boy, doing so good for me”.

Zhongli felt his whole body shiver and shake at you words, it brought him to tears how much of an effect you have on him.

Yes he’s a good boy only for you <3

He just wants to continue being good for you, he wants to be the source of your pleasure. If he can’t have your love, he’ll be enough with being able to make you cum because of him.

He continued teasing your tip with the back of his throat, while tracing the veins with his tongue. By time it became even harder to hold back, if this continued you’ll just burst completely. Even so you didn’t pull out instead you pushed his head impossibly more deeper, putting up a tight grip on his hair. It made him let out an adorable whimper as tears streamed down his face, it just left you in “aww”.

As you fucked his throat like a little toy you noticed his body reacting to your thrusts. His body arched so beautifully all of a sudden. Soon your confused sound turned to hysterical laughter. Looking down you can see a large spot on his pants.

He just came inside his pants. Why? Just because you acted a bit roughly with him. How funny for none other than the geo archon to cum all over himself like a virgin.

“If i knew fucking your throat is all it takes to make you like this I would’ve done this sooner”. Soon your laughter came down to a stop. “But i don’t remember giving you the permission to cum”.

Zhongli’s embarrassment disappeared once he heard your words. Grabbing his hair and roughly pulling him away from your cock made him whine in pain. “You better Handle the consequences of your own actions, Morax”

You almost ripped his clothes apart from how rough you handled him. It made him gasp loud in surprise. Stripping him naked, you harshly pushed his head against the wooden door. Looking at his quivering body turned you on even more. His thighs covered in his own fluid from a while ago.

His ass too clear to your liking. You raised your hands just to bring it back again on his ass, his body jolted in surprise. he let out a choked out cry as your hand’s smacked his ass again and again, until you felt satisfied enough. The clear skin now had obvious handprints on it. His face couldn’t look more fucked up than it is now.

Swallowing his moans. He looked back at you with beginning eyes as he huffed out in between hiccups “please, do it already”. Spanking was a good punishment, but you still wanted to bully him a bit more.

“Do what? You know I can’t read minds” you said with a wide mischievous smile on your face. It would usually make him so embarrassed, but now he was so desperate to have you inside of him that he lost all the self dignity that he had. He does not care anymore about how shameful it is to beg, he just wants you so so bad.

“Please, i want you inside of me” he cried out “please pleaseplease, pleasseee”. You wanted to laugh at his pathetic pleadings. But the way your cock twitched at the sight. It felt impossible to hold back anymore. Yet you still somehow did it.

Due to avoiding you for quite sometime means thats his hole is absolutely not stretched enough to handle you yet. And You weren’t ‘that’ mean to just ram inside of him without preparations.

So you spat on his hole before using your fingers to spread it all around his rim. A mixture of ‘please’ and whines of your name escaped his mouth.

A loud yelp was what you received when your fingers went past his rim. Determined to stretch him well enough that you can fuck him for continuous hours without stopping.

One finger became two, two fingers became three which soon turned to four. Four fingers stuffing him full. He would’ve came so many times if it wasn’t for your other hand squeezing his tip. Denying any droplet of cum to escape. Which left zhongli a breathless crying mess. Until you deemed him ready.

You didn’t have much energy to tease him or hold back anymore, so you took your chance and rammed your cock all the way hitting his prostate first try.

With that singular thrust he came all over himself, painting the brown door white “Hah, you came just because i put it in? Thats pathetic of you morax” you teased him which resulted in his face becoming full of shame as it dusted dark pink. But it didn’t last long till you started railing him hard again.

You could swear everyone is hearing you two right now from how loud zhongli was being. Moaning out like a needy slut. Screaming your name so loud you actually suspect he’s doing it to show off how much of a whore he is for you.

Going in and out at a fast pace, hitting his prostate with every thrust you make made it all more pleasurable. And from the overstimulation he went through when you denied him his orgasm multiple times made him extra sensitive. And it didn’t take him long for him to cum all over himself again and again, till he can no longer cum anymore.

Chasing your own orgasm. You wrapped your hands around his tummy going in slow and deep, just to feel every part of his warm hole around you.

You both were in such intimate position that it almost made him forget that your weren’t actually together. You were connected together but it still wasn’t what he wanted.

“You like me don’t you” a confused ‘huh’ was let out by zhongli. He looked back at you confused, then that confusion turned to a terrified expression. You never stopped your movements, still fucking into him.

He couldn’t think of a word to say as you kept your steady motion. Before you grunted and pulled out. Jerking yourself off just to cum with a loud sigh. Painting both his back and ass with your cum.

Once you were done his leg’s finally gave up on him and he fell down to the floor. He didn’t know what to say so you talked instead of him.

“As the god of contacts, to break one of the rules of the contract must be a huge sin, eh” silence was what you received so you continued “as per contract, since the only rule was broken. The contract is cancelled.”

“Take this last session as a parting gift” you said as you turned to leave before remembering “oh and have your portion” you said as you threw a bag filled with mora his way. “Never see me again” was all you said before leaving zhongli who’s seated down on the floor being as speechless as a rock.

He was just dumbfounded that he got thrown away like that, thrown away like nothing but a cheap expired toy.

“This was all just a big mistake”

🏷️: @gaybitchfx @vyloy

[fantasy-on-parchment]

Can you do something like jacks hurt eva emotionally and she is hurt and he didn't realized it till later and then he rushes to her trying to make it up to her

Yes I can! Might mix it up with a lil smut at the end so I hope everyone’s okay with that!!!

FAIR WARNING ⚠️ because I started this fix before Ballad was released, it will not follow the storyline of ballad or contain any spoilers

Make It Up to You (pt. 1)

Evangeline x Jacks

Warnings: angst and a lil miscommunication.

Summary: while visiting her childhood home, Evangeline struggles with her feelings for Jacks while reminiscing over Luc. In an emotional moment, she turns to Jacks for comfort, in which the fate does not know how to respond.

This is unedited, because I’m dealing with a broken foot and all in all not feeling amazing. You do get a Jacks🍎 pov at the end where our little fate reveals all his feelings…

“Why are we here again?” Came a drawl from besides Evangeline in the carriage, pulling her away from fumbling with the hem of her bodice.

“I told you, I just wanted to get a few items my parents gifted me before they died. I also said you didn’t have to come.” She threw a playful eyeroll before actually turning towards him. Her breath hitched when she found him already looking at her.

She'd never get used to how... pretty he was, but in a deadly way. With his messy blonde hair hanging perfectly over his blue eyes, it was no wonder why girls risked their lives for a simple kiss.

But he wasn't just his looks, not to Evangeline. She hated herself for it, for noticing his pain--and the good qualities hiding behind it. The protectiveness, determination, and absolute desperation for someone to love-to be loved by. It made her heart hurt to think about, especially when sometimes she thought about what it might be like if she was that someone.

Jacks cleared his throat, a sign he'd caught her staring while she drifted off in her thoughts. She immediately looked away, thankful the carriage was coming to a stop in front of what was now her stepmother's house. She reached down to adjust her dress, insistent on ignoring the fate's stare burning into her side profile. Sometimes she caught herself wondering how he felt about her appearance, or her in general, but then she would shake it off and remind herself of all the times he looked away from her as if she wasn't worth looking at.

But she was wondering, "Why did you come?"

There was a chuckle from next to her, "Because," he began, stepping out of the carriage and extending a hand to her, "there never seems to be a dull moment when I'm with you."

She lowered her head as she took his hand, hoping he wouldn't see the blush creeping up her cheeks. She gracefully stepped out of the box, landing in front of her childhood home with a deep breath.

“Usually someone gets hurt, some new curse is unlocked to torture poor souls… and oh you know how I love torture, Little Fox.” He continued with a wink, as if he just had to ruin what otherwise might have been thought of as endearing words.

With an exhale, she lowered her shoulders, “Of course.” Shaking off the exchange, she shifted her focus to her stepmother standing on the porch in front of the door.

The building was more of a cottage, too small to really be considered a house. Her mother did well with it though, while she was alive. She decorated with vines going up the walls and surrounding the windows, assortments of flowers covered the yard. It had been a long time since she died, and the stepmother didn’t bother to keep up the garden. Now, the vines had grown brown and the flowers fell.

It suited Marisol’s mother, Evangeline thought.

The chuckle from next to her confirmed the Fate agreed.

Without so much as a hello, the older woman turned around and traipsed back into the house. She left the door open, the only signal they were allowed to come inside. With a smirk, Jacks turned to her and gestured up the path, “After you, Little Fox.”

With a halfhearted smile, she took the lead up to the house. Without realizing, she focused on Jacks’s footsteps behind hers. They were heavy and strong… and assertive.

Evangeline shook her head, entering the small home. As she expected, Agnes was waiting by the door with her arms crossed.

She withheld a sigh and suffered through a smile, “Hello, Agnes, how have you been doing?”

She hummed a response with a shrug, “I’m fine. How is my Marisol?”

Jacks snorted.

We’re great too, thank you.

Get used to it. Was all Evangeline could respond with.

“Marisol is doing fine, she’s been enjoying her stay at Wolf Hall.”

“Hmph.” And that seemed to be all Agnes cared about, next she stuck her nose in the air and turned back to the kitchen and whatever smell was wafting from it.

“Well, she’s cheery.” Jacks drawled as he faced her again.

“Yes well… welcome to my home.”

It was shy, almost something she didn’t want to acknowledge. Here was Jacks, standing in the entry way of the home that stored 90% of her memories. It was nerve wracking, wondering what he was thinking. If he thought it was nice, or that it was too small to be enjoyable. It scared her, but she also liked the idea of him here. She liked… sharing this with him.

The look on his face was content as he took in the living room to their right, and the dinning room to their left. He managed a kind enough smile, and that was good enough for her.

But then it was shadowed by the glimmer in his eyes, and a wolfish grin, “Now, show me this childhood bedroom.”

With a blush, she turned down the hall and walked to the furthest door. Her room was small, but walking in was the most relieving thing Evangeline had felt in a while. It smelled like Vanilla, the scent she obsessed over as a teenager. Her walls were soft yellows, and the room was accentuated with baby pinks and white cloths and frames.

She sighed as she stepped aside for Jacks to take in the room. For all his big, dominating features, he didn’t look off putting in the space. She watched his lips twitch up as he scanned the room and his eyes fell on her. He smiled genuinely and just… Evangeline’s breath hitched.

“What?” She couldn’t help it.

Jacks stepped further into the room, rounding her pink bed and picking up the stuffed teddy bear near her pillows. He held it in his big hands, observing it’s little blue shirt and the lacy bow on its head. After smiling at it for a second, he looked up at her. Something flashed behind his blue eyes. It wasn’t mischievous or malice, but more wondrous and… admiring?

It was gone before she could decide. His face turned stone again as he dropped the stuffed animal.

“Um…” She took a step back. She wasn’t sure if his mood swings would ever be a normal occurrence to her.

Clearing his throat: “What do you think the evil step-mother is cooking?”

Evangeline wrapped her arms around herself, a little caught up by the changing atmosphere, “I don’t know… you can go see while I look through some things.” Her tone was weak, but she kept her face strong. She didn’t want him to think she wanted him to stay in here with her. There was no way Jacks would be interested in going over her childhood memories with her.

So she stepped out of the way, and he passed by without a word. She was left alone in the small room that used to be her safe haven, scanning through all the journals and paintings. In the corner sat a window seat, with white billowing curtains and a desk adjacent on the wall.

Before heading to her desk, she stepped into the closet next to her bed and pulled out a leather luggage bag. It was small, but it would hold enough of what she wanted to take back to the North with her. Evangeline sat it on her bed and undid the many straps that held it closed. She didn’t want to pack any clothes, her wardrobe was usually cleaned out and renewed once a week at Wolf Hall anyways.

So she moved to the desk, opening drawers and pulling out stacks of papers and trinkets until she had a neat stack on top of the desk. She pulled out her antique chair to sit in, and began going through the contents of the papers and putting specific letters she wanted to keep in the bag.

Most of the letters and drawings were from her parents. Her mother liked to draw, mystical little creatures from her imagination usually, and Evangeline would sneak off with them if she got a chance. The memory of her mother’s knowing face when she clutched the items between her fingers as a child made her smile. She imagined she’d decorate her walls at Wolf Hall with them.

There were several trinkets from her father’s shop, little things she’d coveted throughout the years. There were little vials with liquids of different colors, deemed “love” or “forgetting” or “knowledge.” She had never used them, not ever knowing if she truly believed in potions. But now, after all she’d seen, the little vials made her chuckle.

She tossed the vials in the bag with the letters.

The next few items made her stop breathing. Her fingers hovered over the necklace, the love letter, and the ring box.

Her breath came out in a gasped, “Luc.”

He was always in the back of her mind, but she hadn’t had a moment to stop and reminisce about their lost relationship.

The ring box had come with the letter that rested below it. It had been kept in an otherwise empty drawer, that’s how much Evangeline cherished it. It was the only time anyone had ever really confessed their love for her, the only time she’d ever truly felt wanted.

Her eyes watered as she picked up the ring box. It was black velvet in the shape of a heart, with a silver promise ring inside.

The letter had said: “Until I can put a wedding ring on your finger, instead.”

Along with four more paragraphs about how much he loved her.

What if she never found that again? That was her one chance and it was stolen out from under her?

“Evangeline?”

She jumped at his voice, scooting back in her chair and wiping her eyes. But he had seen, in an instant he was kneeling in front of her, his cold hands pulling her wrists from her face.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Jacks scanned the room, confusion dawning when he didn’t see any physical threat.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She moved away from him, the smell of apples and blood becoming overwhelming.

That didn’t seem to help with the worry creasing hun brow. He lifted a thumb to wipe away a stray tear, and all it seemed to do was make her sob. That was when his eyes landed on the ring and the letter, and he pulled away quickly. Evangeline moved her eyes to the items as well, brushing her fingers over the necklace with another sob.

“I just… all I wanted when I came to your church was love, I would have begged for it. But now, it’s been a year, and I’m still here wishing to just truly be wanted.” The words spilled out, even if she knew they probably weren’t warranted.

Which she did, judging by how quickly his face turned to stone. Jacks stood up with what could have been vampiric speed. He cleared his throat, “I’ve told you, he wasn’t strong enough to love you.”

But that didn’t make sense, “Am I that hard to love? Shouldn’t it be easy?”

A hand ran through gold locks frustratingly, “And why do you think I would know?“

Evangeline stood, taken aback by the outburst. Jacks was suddenly so guarded, where he had seemed somewhat open this trip. “I don’t—“

“Vampire boy isn’t worth it, Little Fox. He can’t love you if it was so easy to curse him, and let’s face it, he probably didn’t love you in the first place!”

With that, he was gone.

She was left with her jaw hung open, once against fiddling with her bodice. She really didn’t know what she was thinking, expecting Jacks to empathize with her. She knew he wanted to feel loved too, and yet all he could tell her was that the one person who might have loved her never did in the first place. That hurt, but she could t say that hurt because how could she expect him to care that he hurt her?

So after sniffing up the tears and pushing down the sobs, she clasped the leather bag and slung it over her shoulder. With a deep breath, she moved down the hall to the dining room where Agnes and Jacks were sitting with the soup she’d cooked.

She cleared her throat to bring there attention and, while Jacks turned his emotionless expression to her, Agnes couldn’t bother. At the moment, Evangeline really couldn’t care less.

“I’ll be waiting in the carriage.”

“Why—“

It didn’t matter, she’d already turned and moved down the porch to the horses. Once again, focusing on the heavy footsteps that rushed to catch up with her.

Then he was in front of her, grabbing her elbows to stop her from moving.

“You’re not sad anymore.”

“Oh really?” She smiled sarcastically.

“You’re mad. Why are you mad?”

She sighed, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not mad, Jacks, just ready to go.”

He went to stop her when she tried to sidestep him, but for once she was faster. Hurrying to the carriage, she allowed the coach to help her in before she situated herself on the opposite side from where she had sat before. She wanted to put space between them, as much as was possible for now.

She wouldn’t let herself look at him on the ride back. She wouldn’t think about his hands wrapped around her wrists, how assertive they had been, how safe she’d felt. Jacks wasn’t her chance at a happily ever after, and after the year she’s had, maybe she didn’t have that chance anymore.

~~JACKS 🍎~~

The ride home was quiet except for Jacks’s frustrated sighs. She was angry, it was obvious she was angry, and as much as he wanted to not care, it just wasn’t working.

He’d seen that house. How small it was, yet he had the feeling it was once filled with laughter and love. It had to have been before the stepmother arrived, however, because seeing how she regarded Evangeline made his blood boil. He’d only stayed in the kitchen with her because Evangeline’s room was absolutely overwhelming.

It was so her, every inch of it. The pinks and whites, especially that stuffed teddy bear. His heart had been beating, yes, but it was running a marathon in that room. He hated it.

They neared Wolf Hall when he finally allowed himself to look across the carriage, resting his eyes on her as she pretended not to notice. Her eyes were still glassy, her cheeks red with anger. She pierced her lips tightly, as if forbidding herself to make any sound. He forced himself to smirk, but her quiet made his stomach roll.

He tried to focus on her appearance, the way her bodice hugged her waist and her skirts fanned her hips. Her breasts were pushed up on her chest, allowing her necklace to rest between. They’d taunted him on the journey south, but now all he could think about was that blessed leather bag.

Did she have the ring in the bag? Was she holding that letter close so she could keep it and remember Luc?

He couldn’t help it, he had to know.

“So, did you throw vampire boy’s little promise ring in that bag as well?” It came out harsh, and he smirked to himself. Good.

It was when her eyes met his as the door opened that he thought: maybe it wasn’t so good. “No, Lord Jacks, I did not bother to keep the ring of someone who never loved me in the first place.”

She hurried out the door, and he watched her ascend the steps into the castle. Her voice had broke between words, her eyes seemed to well. She wasn’t angry.

Jacks sat back dumbstruck. She was upset. Upset with him?

He leaned on his knees with his head in his hands, “Oh, Little Fox…”

He’d brushed it off before, if he hurt someone. People’s feelings were simply casualties, nothing more. But… Evangeline felt with such a passion he wasn’t sure he could just let it go.

Sometimes, he really thought she understood him. She wanted to be loved, just as he did. He saw her face when he’d give her little touches, saw the desire for intimacy behind her eyes. He was sure his held the same intentions.

He had wanted her, had wanted to know what her skin felt like, what her love felt like. What did it feel like to hold her while she cried, while she moaned?

With a groan, Jacks got up and out of the carriage. He needed to find his room, recharge. Then, he’d go looking for his little fox.

And he’d make her forget any place that little boy had touched her.