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#i saw this part on stream and SHRIEKED and yes i shrieked again when i found pics of it 👹
kindahoping4forever · 11 months
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Ash @ The 5SOS Show Tour Santiago - 27 July 2023
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cowboybarzy · 9 months
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mat arriving from training camp and notices that y/n is taking a shower and goes in with her SMUT pleaseee
your ask is my command :) warning: SMUT ahead!!
You turned the water off and started gently lathering your hair in shampoo. You spent a couple of minutes massaging and soaping up your hair.
Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and with a loud shriek you dropped to your knees.
"It's me!" Your boyfriend, Mat, quickly explained with a laugh when he saw you on the shower floor.
"Oh my god! You scared me," you nearly screamed at him. "I thought you said you'd be back at four."
"I said latest four. I didn't really know what the schedule would be like today," he said as he opened the glass shower door. A cold wind hit you, making you shiver, but you gladly accepted his outstretched hand to help you stand back up.
You gave him a quick kiss, then closed the door to keep the cold out. "How was your first day back?"
"The absolute best," he said with a huge grin that you could make out even through the steamed glass. "I'm so pumped! Skating with the boys again and seeing some of the new kids. This is gonna be a great season."
"What are you doing?," you asked, instead of answering him, when you saw him start to undress. Before you knew it, the shower door opened again and a naked Mat walked in.
"Joining you." He grinned and leaned over to kiss you, before turning the water back on. "Why are you showering in the middle of the day anyway?"
He shifted the both of you around so that the stream of water could wash the shampoo out of you hair. "You went back to work, working hard, and I suddenly got motivated to go to the gym." You chuckled and brushed your hand over his abs. "Need to keep up with those muscles."
He pulled you into him with a chuckle and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss quickly deepened, both you growing desperate for more, pulling at each other. Mat too was soaking wet now and only when the water in your face got too much for you did you pull away.
"I wasn't done with my shower," you whispered breathlessly as Mat gently sucked on your neck.
"I can help with that." He took the bar of soap from the ledge and gently started gliding it along your body. He started with your arms and shoulders, gently massaging them getting you to relax into his touch. He moved on to your front, paying close attention to your nipples, gently tugging at and circling them. You sighed in pleasure. Your knees were getting weaker and weaker so you gripped his shoulders for support.
Finally, he dropped to his knees to wash your lower half. He soaped up your legs and butt, again massaging your muscles until you had to lean into the shower wall for support.
"Mat," you whined eventually when it seemed that he was purposefully avoiding one area. He looked up grinning like a devil and finally set the soap aside. With every heavy breath you grew more impatient and needy. Another needy whine finally got him to move into action.
His long finger finally slipped between your core, parting your lips. They curled, moving back and forth, teasing your entrance. "Maty." He was teasing you, and usually you liked it quite a bit, but that massage had already worked you up so much, you couldn't take this right now.
He slipped one finger inside and you almost toppled over. "Good?" God, he was so vain, but he had a point. He was that good. Before you could make a comeback, he slipped two more fingers in your pussy. He moved them quickly, curling to hit your gspot. You threw your head back with a load moan.
Suddenly, his fingers were gone. "No," you sighed at the loss, but he used his free hand to lift your leg into his shoulder which gave him space to bury his face in your core. "Oh, fuck yes."
Now his tongue was circling and sucking on your clit. You cried out, it was too much, but you hips still rocked against his face chasing your orgasm that was fast approaching. Your hands buried in his hair, scratching his scalp spurring him on to keep going.
Slowly, your toes started to curl and a wonderful sensation crept up your spine as your orgasm came crashing over you. You cried in ecstasy, bending over to keep your shaking legs from letting you down.
Mats big hands kept you steady as he stood up and pulled you into him to let you calm down in his arms. He cradled you, pressing little kissed to your face until you finally opened your eyes.
"Love you," you whispered.
"Love you," he whispered back, before kissing you deeply. "Let's move this to a flat surface, shall we?"
"I wanted to do a hair mask." He laughed. "What? I didn't expect you to be home so early. I had a whole plan."
"Fine," he said, still laughing. "Do your hair mask. It's not like I just put all this effort in..." He took a step back and opened the shower door.
"Where are you going?" You pouted.
"I actually kinda showered earlier already." You chuckled and kissed him. "Do your thing, but just get ready to take another shower after I'm done with you later."
"Can't wait."
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separatist-apologist · 4 months
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Love Is A Lie
Summary: After her mothers death, Arina goes from the well-loved daughter of a nobleman to a servant in his home. She dreams of escaping to the coast and making her own way, and when she learns of a ball the King of Avalon is hosting to pick a wife, Arina sees her chance. With a little help from a fairy godmother, Arina agrees to exchange a favor for one night with the King.
But Eris Vanserra has other plans when they meet, and Arina isn't sure she's ready for the consequences of one night dancing at a ball.
Part Two of OUAT series
Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
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The sound of heels against stone drew Arina from her reverie. Three days in the dungeons had made her numb to noise—to the moaning, the pleading, and the rattling chains. Unfortunately, it hadn’t numbed her to the smell—coming back to consciousness brought with it the smell of human filth and misery. Turning her head through the gloom, Arina saw the beautiful face of her fairy godmother.
Amarantha.
“Tsk, tsk,” she began, slipping through the bars as though she were made of water. “You were caught.”
Arina turned her head, staring dead-eyed at the wall in front of her. There was no point in pleading with the witch.
“I could free you,” Amarantha continued, snapping her fingers so the barred door that held Arina swung open of its own accord. “Let you try again, if you like?”
Arina didn’t respond. 
“Or maybe you failed on purpose. Love,” she spat as though the word tasted foul. “Look where it got you.”
“Just kill me,” she said tonelessly. 
“In time, perhaps. I’m not quite finished with you just yet. You did fail me—the prince lives and so, too, does little Elain Archeron. I can’t seem to stay ahead of the little wretch.”
That drew Arina’s attention. What did Elain have to do with all this? Amarantha wasn’t really talking to Arina, merely at her. 
“I’m merciful. You still have time to make this right,” Amarantha crooned, turning her attention back toward Arina. Arina shook her head.
“He won’t see me. He hates me.”
“Yes, I’ve heard the rumors. He loved you once, though,” Amarantha said in that syrupy voice of hers. It was as if she wanted to make things better having already destroyed so much. “Perhaps he’d see you if you got on your knees and begged.”
Arina swallowed her revulsion. “Got on my knees only to stab him in the back, you mean?”
“Why not whisper how much you love him right before you press the dagger into his ribs?” Amarantha suggested, revealing the same dagger Eris had taken from her. “Let it be the final words between you.”
“Why this dagger?” Arina questioned, reaching for the jeweled hilt sitting at her bare feet. “Poisoning him would be far easier.”
“Ah, there’s a trick to this blade,” Amrantha told her, delight burning in her beetle black eyes. “It keeps a soul trapped until I have use of them. A king is a useful toy to have in my possession. Now, I want you to take your pretty little self back to his bed and plead with him until he is close enough you can drive this into his body. But just in case you think to defy me…”
Amarantha snapped her fingers and in an instant, heavy, iron shoes were strapped to Arina’s once bare feet. She watched in horror as the metal began to warm, the metal brightening until the heat was overwhelming. Shrieking, she reached to pull them off only to scald her fingertips.
“You like to dance, don’t you? Consider this an incentive. Kill Eris Vanserra or dance for me until I’m no longer amused. Understand?”
Arina nodded, tears streaming down her face. All at once, the metal began to cool, though not quick enough for her liking. She couldn’t move her feet without touching skin to the contraption. “Take these off.”
“Oh, I think I’ll leave them. Just in case,” Amarantha said with a sharp-toothed smile. “I want you to think only of me and just how unpleasant my displeasure will be should you fail me a second time.”
With a snap of her fingers, Amarantha was gone. The door to her cell was still open—as if it mattered. And though Arina’s feet were burned, she was mostly intact. Arina counted her breaths, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her dress as she waited for night to fall.
Minutes felt like days, the hours stretching miserably. With no windows and only the dim torchlight just outside her cell, Arina had no way of telling time. While she waited, Arina picked at the metal shoes that held her feet. There had to be a way out of them, though it felt like the more she tugged, the tighter they adhered to her skin. 
Finally, she heard the clipped sound of boots against stone followed by the pale, lined face of the man she’d married. Eris took her in, eyes sweeping her curled form, the dagger balancing on her knees and the iron shoes now strapped against her feet.
“She came?” he whispered, standing in the doorframe. 
“Yes,” Arina agreed, biting her lower lip. “She brought me this.”
“Did she explain its importance?”
“It’s imbued with magic…it’ll trap you. This isn’t about you, Eris. It’s about Elain,” she whispered, waiting to see what would happen next. Eris had asked her to trust him and she had, though that had only resulted in her being thrown in the dungeons while he ordered the guards not to speak a word that she was there. He’d get to decide what happened to her and having spent three days alone in the dark, Arina was beginning to wonder if he wouldn’t just kill her after all.
Eris crossed the filthy cell, joining her gingerly on the bench. He was so wildly out of place in his fine clothes.
“Are you hurt?”
Arina wanted to cry. “I’m okay,” she lied, unwilling to tell him the truth. Just in case. Eris reached for her face, sweeping his thumb over her cheek. 
“You’re not. But you will be. Are you ready for what comes next?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on,” Eris said, offering Arina his hand. She hesitated before taking it, crying out softly when her injured feet touched the ground. Her knees buckled and the only thing that kept her from slamming to the stone was Eris’s arms. “You are hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she panted, though she pressed her cheek against his chest all the same. It felt good to be touched after days of utter deprivation. In her worst moments, Arina indulged in a fantasy in which Eris just never came back. Sometimes she imagined the speech he’d give in which he’d laugh at her, asking if she genuinely believed he could ever love her. 
“You’re not,” Eris whispered, kissing the top of her head. “And I won’t be either if I have to sleep another night alone. This is what she wants, isn’t it? For you to charm me?”
“And then kill you,” Arina reminded him. 
“I would gladly die at your hands.”
Arina had to choke back her laughter before it devolved into tears. Maybe Eris recognized it because he murmured, “It’s almost over now.”
Arina didn’t think that was true though there was no point in arguing. Eris led her out of the dungeon, hands tight around her body. If she’d thought there would be a reprieve once they were back in his bedroom, Elain was mistaken. Eris’s brothers were waiting with Elain Vanserra, all of whom looked equally furious. Not at Arina, whom Eris set gently on the bed.
“She means to trap me,” Eris told his brothers softly, taking out the blade to show them.”
“I knew it,” Elain murmured, wrapping her arms around her body. “She knows I’d bargain for your freedom.”
“You won’t,” Eris snarled, whirling on Elain as Connall picked up Arina’s damaged foot to examine the contraption binding her. “This is not the time for heroics.”
“Any soul, right?” Arina murmured as Tanwen sat on her other side. “Including hers?”
“It won’t work,” Eris began, but Lucien’s once serious gaze had brightened. 
“It will work,” Lucien breathed, looking at Elain. “She’s not clever—she’ll come to gloat and that’s when we’ll have her. We can trap her until we figure out a way to kill her.”
“What about my sisters?” Elain demanded, rounding on her husband. “They’re still out there and I need to know how to free them.”
“I promise we will,” Lucien said, taking his wife's hands within his own. “I swear it. But for right now, we have to do this.”
“She’ll know—”
“She won’t,” Eris interrupted, turning to look at Arina. “You can do this, can’t you?”
Arina agreed with Elain. Amarantha would suspect a trick, would be prepared to kill them all. What were the odds she and Eris survived? It seemed impossible. Still…maybe it was better to go down trying than it was to lay down and accept defeat. And if there was a chance they could be together, Arina had to take it. 
“Do you trust me?” Eris asked, turning the full weight of his amber eyes on her. She saw his hope, his determination. 
“Tell me what to do.”
ERIS: Eris felt Arina’s legs straddle his hips. In other circumstances it would have been a dream to know she wanted to be on top of him. Now it was all he could do to keep himself still and quiet and let her work. He could feel her trembling hands, could all but taste her fear. She didn’t think this would work.
 Neither did Eris, truthfully. Still, they had to try. The alternative was losing Arina and Eris wasn’t willing to accept that. They were so close. All she had to do was take that knife and cut exactly where he’d told her to. After that, everything was out of their hands. 
Eris felt the knife pierce his clothes, felt the warm gush of blood spill against the bed. Arina whispered, “I’m so sorry,” before dropping the knife loudly to the floor just as they’d agreed. 
“So sweet,” came a twisted, crooning voice from the dark. Eris didn’t dare move even as Arina scrambled back, her metal clad feet clanking against the marble floors. “If only love was enough to save you. It’s nothing personal.”
Arina cried out, knees buckling as the room illuminated in a sickening, orange glow. Her shoes had ignited in the moments after Amarantha’s arrival, forcing her to either hop foot to foot in some sick kind of dance or frantically try and get them off her feet. 
Eris rose from his place in bed, their plan already falling apart. 
“Tell me where little Elain Archeron is, and I’ll spare your pretty wife, princeling.” 
Eris didn’t dare look at his wife lest he ruin the entire thing. Her death wouldn’t be on his hands. He could play it cool just long enough to free them, if only temporarily. Gesturing absently, he said, “She’s around.”
“Call for her,” Amarantha ordered. Eris heard Arina whimper at his feet and dug his nails against his palms to keep himself from reaching for her. They were so close. Elain could fix this for them—Eris knew it. She’d see the pieces laid before her and she’d make it happen.
So Eris called for her, well aware Elain was merely in the next room surrounded by his brothers. Amarantha must have known it too, because her head turned toward the closet doors before Elain ever emerged. 
With one hand resting on her rounded stomach, Elain was the picture of serene grace. Like she hadn’t once survived an attempt on her life by the same witch now standing in front of her. Eris was in hell watching things play out, all the while having to see Arina writhe below, forgotten by everyone but him. How long could her feet remain in that contraption before they were no longer of any use to her? 
Grinding his teeth, Eris forced himself to remain where he was, still bloodied from the blade before. Of course the blood was fake—but it was only ever meant to lure Amarantha to him. She wanted Eris dead but not so badly she couldn’t resist trying to get Elain back, too. Her hubris would be her undoing, though Eris wasn’t fool enough to think they’d manage anything but containing the witch today.
“Look at you,” Amarantha breathed, ignoring the way the metal around Arina’s feet glowed orange. Eris and Elain met each others gaze in the dark, her resolve unmistakable even as she jutted out her bottom lip and held her stomach protectively.
Was Lucien losing his mind behind the door? Eris thought he understood how his brother must feel. If he had to wait another minute, someone was going to die.
Probably him. 
“You’ve been busy,” Armantha breathed, her focus wholly on Elain. “You look ready to burst.”
“What do you want?” Elain asked, adjusting her stance in an attempt to look threatening. She failed—miserably—but Amarantha wasn’t looking at Arina on the floor. The witch didn’t see how Arina’s fingers curled around that dagger, sliding it slowly across the floor where Eris was able to catch it beneath the toe of his boot. 
“What do I want?” Amarantha cackled, throwing her head back so her blood red hair cascaded like a river of blood down her back. With her attention on Elain, Eris crouched as slowly as he dared, eyes locked with his wife. If he failed, they’d all die here and his kingdom would crumble to ruins. His heart swam in his stomach as ice flooded up his spine, causing his fingers to tremble ever so slightly.
They would succeed, he told himself, if only because they had to. 
“If you leave them alone, I’ll give it to you,” Elain breathed, causing Lucien to finally emerge from behind the door, hand on his blade.
“No!” Lucien interrupted, causing just enough of a commotion that no one caught Eris rise to his feet, blade in hand. “No, Elain—”
“Let the girl speak!” Amarantha ordered, wholly focused on Elain in front of her. What did she imagine she could get? What kind of twisted bargain was she working in her mind? Elain inched closer to Eris and he knew right then what Elain wanted.
Retribution for the pain and suffering she’d experienced. For what they’d all been through. He reached for her, pulling her back to his chest so she could reach for the dagger concealed in his other hand. Elain’s fingers also trembled though no part of her expression waivered. 
“What about my child?” Elain suggested as Lucien surged forward again. This time Amarantha flicked her fingers, throwing his brother roughly against the far wall. 
“You’d give me your unborn baby in exchange for this man's life?”
“For everyone's life,” Elain whispered, her eyes on Amarntha. The witch stood facing Lucien, her back half-turned to Elain. All they needed was one more diversion from his brother and they could make their move. “I can have more children.”
“Your first two children,” Amarantha crooned. “There are twins in there.”
Lucien moaned, pushing himself to his feet. “Elain, this is madness. They’re our babies—”
“We can have more,” she said, her voice heavy with sorrow. Eris nearly believed Elain’s grief. “You want them both?”
Amarantha’s joy was obscene. “Yes. Both your babes, in exchange for the lives in this room.”
There was a trick to her words—some game they were all missing. Arina whimpered, dragging herself closer to Eris while trying desperately not to touch her skin against the scalding metal contraptions. 
“No!” Lucien roared, running forward to head butt Amarantha. It was the distraction they needed. The witch turned her attention toward Eris’s brother just as Elain stepped forward and buried her blade in Amarantha’s neck. The witch let out a blood curdling laugh, head thrown back even as blood began to pour from the wound. 
“Foolish girl,” she hissed, the words gurgled from her mouth. “Now you’ll never find the eldest.”
Still holding her dagger, Elain leaned forward. “I’ll find her and when we’re reunited, we’ll be back to kill you.”
“We shall see,” Amarantha replied, her edges fading into the room. It took another moment before the knife Elain held clattered to the floor, leaving only a pool of blood behind. 
“Get these off me,” Arina whispered, prompting the room into a flurry of movement. Lucien reached for Elain, pulling her into his body as she cried into his chest, swearing she would never have given up their unborn children.
The metal burned Eris’s fingertips badly, but in the end he managed to get them off Arina’s feet and haul her up into his arms before Elain ever finished apologizing.
“That dagger doesn’t leave my sight,” Eris ordered, nodding at Elain to put it on his side table while he set Arina gently to the bed. “Holy fucking gods.”
“Everyone is okay,” Elain murmured, but Eris wasn’t having it.
“Get out,” he added. It had been days since he’d last seen his wife.
And he wanted to talk to her.
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ticklygiggles · 8 months
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Miya&Mia's Tickletober Day 10 - Cloak
Sa Dowon x Seol Beom | [N$FW]
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A/N: we have a rare fandom today! These handsome boys are from manhwa "Full Volume"! If you guys haven't read that I'll recommend it to read it, it is n$fw though, like this fic! Enjoy!
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"Woah, are we doing a roleplay?"
Beom nodded shyly as he showed his outfit to Dowon. He made sure to look extra arousing for his lover, carefully picking the right costume that would make Dowon's mouth water. 
"Are you a little slutty vampire?" Dowon purred, licking his lips and smirking.
Beom nodded again as he made his way to Dowon who was sitting in bed. "What do you think?" He asked, straddling Dowon's lap and encircling his arms around his neck. 
"What do I think?" Dowon asked, raising an eyebrow as he eyed Beom's outfit. 
A long black cloak fell behind him, the collar was high, almost at the level of his jaw. Under the cloak, his torso was bare and across his chest he had a pretty harness with a metal ring in the middle. It was tight around his plump chest and Dowon felt the urge to bite his flesh. 
Further down, past his plump hips, a small pair of black leather underwear clung to his body, showing all the edges and bulges of a growing erection. Beom smiled when Dowon's eyes lightened up at realizing that the underwear had a zipper that went from the front all the way back to the tailbone. 
Beom grinned mischievously and he grinded against Dowon, feeling him slowly starting to wake up down there. 
"So?"
"I love it. I want to eat you whole while wearing this."
Beom covered his mouth to muffled a moan as Down grabbed his waist and pulled him closer to him, his mouth just a breath away from hiss chest. If he reached out just a little bit, he would- 
"Aangh! A-Ah, Dowon, my n-nipple," he cried when Dowon closed his mouth around one of his erect nipples, his fingertips lightly tracing up his back, making him gasp and arch against him. 
"Yes, I love your nipples, Beom."
Beom moaned again, grinding harder against Dowon, but also trying to push him away. 
"W-We c-can't! Let me start the s-stream if you're going to-" 
"We'll do it late or some other day. Now hold your hands up here," Dowon said, gathering Beom's wrists between his hands and pushing them against his chest. "Don't move."
Beom whined, "D-Dowon, we shouldn't- w-what are you doing?"
Beom saw with dazed eyes how Dowon grabbed his cloak and started to wrap it around his upper body, successfully trapping his hands. Beom moaned when he was pushed to the bed and Dowon leaned down to kiss his stomach. 
Dowon made sure to suck and bite and lick every path of skin that had Beom shivering and moaning out his name and circling his hips, trying to find some friction for his poor cock. He kissed around Beom's belly button just how he liked, but the streamer was surprised when he suddenly felt Dowon's mouth closing against his navel. 
It didn't take long for him to feel Dowon's tongue poking him there. 
He giggled, jerking his hips. "N-No! S-stohop that! It's tihihicklish."
Beom felt his lover grinning against his skin. "Are you ticklish?" 
"Yehehes, Dohowon. S-so n-no mohohore! Eek! Ahahaha, nohoho!" 
Fingertips dragged up the muscles of his stomach. Dowon's touch was always gentle, but this time it was also lighter and it made Beom's skin prickle ticklishly. He giggled brightly and tried to stop Dowon's hands, but he was trapped, wrapped with his cloak like a burrito. 
"Why didn't I know you are ticklish, Beom? And very much so, I would say," Dowon said, nibbling the rim of Beom's belly button, making him shriek. 
"B-Behehecahause you wohohuld do thihihis- ahahaha, please not thehehere!"
"Of course I would do this, especially when someone here is really enjoying his tickles."
Beom's cheeks felt on fire. Of course he felt how the light touches and the attention on his belly button were doing wonders to his lower parts, but he blamed all to Dowon because he… well… he was Dowon! 
"Ahahahah, plehehease n-nohoho!" What was he thinking when he wore that damn cloak? "Dohohowon, Ihihi- ngh!" 
"Are you ticklish here too?" 
Beom threw his head back with loud laughter when he felt fingertips scribbling against the tip of his cock. He tried to close his legs, but Dowon was between them and he heard him chuckle. 
"I'll cuhuhum! Plehehease, Dohohowohon!" 
"Will you? Just because I'm tickling you? Oh, I would absolutely love to see that!" 
He really should have thought better before using that cloak...
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gotham-ruaidh · 2 years
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motionless upon the air
(set shortly after 06x01 "Echoes")
And do I take you by the hand And lead you through the land And help me understand the best I can?
-- Pink Floyd, Echoes (1971)
Brianna Fraser MacKenzie stood up straight, wincing, rubbing the ache in her lower back.
Pursing her lips, she surveyed the streambank in front of her.
The clay might work – and it might not – for the water pipes. Her first experiments with clay taken from the stream further into the woods had been…less than impressive. The pipes had shrunk and cracked in the makeshift kiln that Ian and Roger and the Beardsleys (and Jem and Germain, to be fair) had dug for her. So she had walked the stream, observed gradual changes in the consistency of the rocks exposed by the water, and deduced that the clay at this spot must be of a sturdier consistency as well.
Not that it mattered to her son and nephew, joined by newcomer Aidan McCallum, who gleefully splashed in the stream nearby.
So she’d been digging for the better part of the past hour – filling two baskets with clay. Just enough for another round.
The little boys shrieked – and Brianna whirled to find them and the source of danger, hand already on the dirk at her belt.
And relaxed.
“And what are the three of you doing out here?”
“We’re helping Auntie Bree, Grandda,” Germain explained. “She’s digging for clay.”
“Oh, aye? Why did I see ye just put a handful of muck down the back of Jem’s shirt, then?”
Germain shrugged. “We can swim later to wash it off.”
“I’m ready for help carrying this!” Brianna shouted.
Jem promptly scampered over to his Mama, Aidan close behind. Jamie brought up the rear, gently pulling Germain along with him.
“Need an extra hand?”
She snorted. “Looks like it. Here – boys, can you share one basket and let Grandda take the other?”
Aidan reached to take Bree’s spade, for good measure, and in a few moments they were off. Quickly the boys were a few yards ahead of the adults.
“Stay close!” Bree yelled. “Cousin Ian saw a painter in the woods yesterday!”
That didn’t dissuade them too much. But it did do one positive thing.
“It’s nice to see you smile, Da,” she remarked quietly.
He shifted the basket to his other hand. “It’s nice for me to do it, too, a leannan. We need joy more days than others, sometimes.”
Still looking straight ahead, watching the ground for roots and stones, she pondered a response. Let the silence stretch between them.
“She’s not talking about it at all.”
He sighed. “No. She’s not.”
“Not even with you?”
“And how much of it did you ever want to share wi’ your husband? Knowing that just to start talking about it may bring back the very things ye didnae want to think about again?”
She turned to look at him. “I know. I just would have thought…”
“…that of all people, I’d understand what’s going on inside of her heid?” He swallowed. “Bree, I thought I did. But I dinna ken anymore.”
Her heart quickened. “What happened?”
Now he looked at her – eyes wide in the shadow of the trees. “Ye cannae tell anyone about this. No’ even Roger. Can ye promise me that?”
“I – you’re scaring me, Da. What is it?”
“Promise.”
“All right. Tell me.”
He glanced up the trail – to Aidan and Germain rolling in the leaves, Jemmy guarding the basket of clay. He paused, standing still, finding his words.
“Ye ken the ether?”
Bree’s brow furrowed. “Yes…”
“She explained to me what she’s doing wi’ it. I only ken because I found her a few days back, testing it on herself.”
“That’s…normal. She often tests new things out on other people, or on herself.”
“Aye, weel. Last night, she had a terrible nightmare. I woke before she did. I ken what those dreams are, what they do to you. How they rob your peace during the day and steal your sleep at night.”
“I do too,” she said softly.
“Of course ye do. And what do ye do when those dreams come, mo nighean ruaidh?”
“I’d get up, stay up. Sketch or read while Roger and Jem slept. What about you?”
He waved his hand, suddenly agitated. “She left our bedroom last night. Said she was going to make tea. When she didnae come back, I went downstairs.” His fist clenched on the side of the basket. “Bree – I found her in the surgery. On the bed. Wi’ the ether mask beside her face.”
Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh, no.”
He took a short, deep breath. “She was breathing. But I couldnae bring myself to wake her. God help me, I am a coward. Because I did not want to steal from her the rest she cannae get herself.”
She crossed the few steps between them and touched her hand to his elbow. “Thank you for telling me. I – I don’t know…”
“Aye, that’s the hell of it.” His voice was low, steady - and eyes shone with tears. “Do I confront her? What comfort can I give her, when it’s her own mind that’s troubling her? When I did the same things in Paris to make myself forget?”
Somewhere above them, a yellowthroat warbled.
He paused. “I'm ashamed to admit it now. But there was a time when I spent much more time away from her than wi’ her. I turned away from the help she wanted to give me. And I spent days and nights in taverns and brothels, playing politics, numbing myself wi’ drink, watching the whores put on shows, and even flirting wi’ some of them. Claire was with child, and I should have been happy, but I couldnae make myself feel happy. I just wanted to forget.”
Brianna looked down at their two pairs of muddy boots. Gently he tilted her chin upwards, meeting her gaze.
“We made our way through it. It was hard – so hard. And she kens just how hard it was. Things are different now – we're older. We have you, and the rest of our family, and a whole Ridge to run. More than enough things to occupy our time, to help forget. But I think that makes things worse.”
She smiled tightly. “Do you want me to talk to her about it?”
“I wouldnae ask ye to do that. But perhaps we can talk to her together?”
“Because who else would understand but the both of us, aye?”
He knuckled her cheek. “What I wouldn’t give to take that memory away from you, a leannan. I’ve come to peace wi’ mine. Can I say I’m grateful, in some small way, that we do have this in common?”
She nodded. “Let’s do it now. No time to waste.”
He shifted the basket, and wrapped an arm around her, squeezing tightly, following the boys through the forest.
107 notes · View notes
bevixxed-by-jess · 3 years
Text
Greed!Ling Headcanons I've been faffing around with. NSFW
18+ MDNI
Honestly, this is my first headcanon list and I'm low key kinda surprised I wrote one for Greed!Ling buuuut, I'm loving it. Please no hate my dudes ❤
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- Greed the Avaricious one hundy percent devours you to overstimulated completion
- He takes his time with you, working from head to toe because there is no part of you he doesn't want to consume
- Starting from the top, he bites and sucks at your lips, making sure they're swollen and bruised
- There is no part of your neck or collarbones that is not covered in hickeys and bites. He needs everyone you come in contact with to know that you are his possession
- Greed loves boobs. He loves your boobs. It's very rare he isn't trying to grope them tiddies. He pinches and flicks your nipples, mouthing all over the supple skin- also your boobs are covered in hickeys. Pretty sure he's tried motorboating at some point (don't even @me) just squishing his hot ass face in your hot ass tiddies
- your thighs. Oh god your thighs. If you could, he would want to be crushed within them
- fuck your plans, he's eating out tonight.
- your pussy is liquid gold, he sucks on your clit, tongue fucks you and fingers you til you're screaming for him. He stops when you accidentally call him Ling and you sob a little because fuck you're sorry
- he certainly makes you pay for that slip up, manhandling you so you're on all fours and presenting your ass all pretty for him
- and then he smacks your ass
- the way it jiggles afterwards, praise jesus
- Greed is low key torn between sticking his dick in you while you're like that or making you ride him
- fuck it, he's in charge and you need to sit on his dick and work for him
- he lays down next to you with the snarkiest shit eating grin until you understand what he wants
- You climb on top of him. honestly if that dick isn't inside you soon you might miss your chance to tease him
- oh he is thick. Makes you take it all in one go, grabbing your hips and pushes you down so you bottom out
- he admires your flushed form sitting atop him, watching as your chest heaves trying to even out your breathing, smirking at your pale skin littered with pretty red marks because you're his
- You try your best to be teasing, circling your hips and barely moving but he doesn't really like that. He wants you bouncing on his cock til you feel it in your throat
- He thrusts up hard, causing you to shriek as your body lifts off his hips and drop back down onto him.
- You swear you saw God. Unsure if it hurt or felt good. But you did as you were encouraged to, digging your knees into the bed and hands on his (man tiddies) chest for balance as you begin riding his cock
- "You're so pretty like this baby, I don't know why you don't do it more often"
- Because usually you're being fucked face first into whatever surface you've been taken on
- Greed finds your clit again while you're riding him, playing you like the acoustic guitar you are just for you to cum again. and again
- He watches his cock slide in and out of you, hungrily eyeing the cream outline you've caused at the base
- It doesn't take him long to swap your positions, your back hitting the bed at break neck speeds just so he could fuck into you
- the lewd sound of his balls hitting your ass sets you off again
- tears are streaming down your face at this point, your brain is mush and all you can do is call his name like a prayer
- Greed cums inside you. Homunculus' (Homunculi? Fuck I dunno) can't reproduce so buries his cock so deep in your pussy, making you take everything he has.
- should he stop there? Yes. Does he? No
- he wants your pussy so full of his cum he keeps going until you're begging him to stop
- he stops when he cums again, after you've gone past counting how many orgasms you've had at that point
- he kisses you very sweetly before pulling out
- you feel his cum leak out a little and it's low key kinda gross
- Greed takes good care of you afterwards, making sure you're all cleaned up and tucked up all snug in bed before settling down to cuddle with you.
- he loves his snuggies but if you tell anyone you're dead
- You absolutely cannot fucking walk the next day and he is so delighted in himself
400 notes · View notes
touyasdoll · 3 years
Text
Red Lights
Request from anon: hiii I’m soo shy to ask this 😩 but can u do like a Dom!Shouto umm smut ahhh thankiew u can make ur own storyline haha eeekk thankiew again✨✨
Pairing: Dom!Shouto x sub!reader
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, PWP, dom/sub relationship, daddy kink, breath play, impact play, breeding kink, quirk play, spitting, degradation, dumbification, dacryphilia
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“Fuck yes, baby girl, just like that.”
The words tumbled out of his lips like a hushed growl as juxtaposed hands worked their way into your hair; one ice cold and the other warm enough to coax sweat from your scalp immediately.
“You’re doing so good for Daddy.”
The sweet praises Shouto offered you further encouraged your efforts as you sheathed his entire cock within your mouth, your bottom lip placing soft pressure on his balls as you took him to the hilt, gagging and choking for air as your esophagus became suddenly all too full of his impressive length.
His deft fingers seized your hair in tight fists as a guttural groan rang against the walls of the living room. You could feel his thighs flex on either side of you, kneeling in your rightful place between his legs as he sat atop the couch.
Releasing his vice grip on your locks, he raked his right hand through the strands until he caught another fistful at the nape of your neck and forcefully tugged your head back.
His heterochromatic orbs bore into yours, a sadistic sheen of lust darkening them even further than the ambient red lights that shone down from the ceiling ever could.
“You’re really hungry for this cock tonight aren’t you, baby? Tell me how bad you need it and maybe I’ll let you have another taste.”
The icy coolness of his right palm soothed the heat of the sweat that had broken out over your body, but the grip he had on your hair didn’t falter.
His eyes searched your face and his left palm connected with his large member. He didn’t dare look away from your needy expression as he wrapped his fingers around his length, stroking it at an agonizingly slow pace.
Even in the dim lighting, you could see the veins on the underside of his pretty cock, stretching across the wide girth of the appendage. Just watching his fingers slowly drift up and down his shaft had you captivated and absolutely dripping with need.
You captured your bottom lip in your teeth, exhaling through your nose as your pussy clenched desperately at the emptiness between your thighs, trying in vain to catch some friction to relieve the ache deep in your belly.
The words flew from your lips, breathy and frantic with the lilt of a whine as you tried to steady your breathing.
“Please, Daddy..m’please lemme taste your cock again. I’ll be such a good girl. Need you to fill me up, pretty please, Daddy. I’d do anything just to taste you..”
Devious couldn’t begin to describe the smirk that flashed across his face. Before you got the chance to speculate what his next torture might be, you felt deliciously warm fingertips on either side of your jaw.
Your lips parted, forced open as he applied pressure, the pads of his fingers growing warmer against your flesh as you watched his jaw shift momentarily.
Finding his eyes again, you noticed his gaze drop to your open mouth as he leaned closer to you, finally relinquishing his hold on your hair.
His index finger found your bottom lip, tugging it down as he tilted his head forward and allowed a long string of saliva to pour from his mouth into your own, watching with possessive purpose as it pooled on your tongue.
“Swallow it.”
Heeding his command without question, you obeyed and felt your cunt clench even tighter as a desperate moan left your lungs.
The dirtier he made you feel, the deeper the need for you to satisfy his every want grew. He loved it. He adored it.
The way your eyes were already glassed over, still moist from the tears that pricked your eyes when you swallowed him whole. How your body reacted so beautifully to every little thing he did to you. How responsive you were to him even just looking at you the right way.
It hadn’t always been like this. When you two first got together, he had been so careful with you, as if you might break right there in his grasp if he mishandled you to even the slightest degree.
But once you had successfully assured him that you weren’t made of glass, he was willing to try out some of the things that you were interested in. He was still hesitant at first, but once he saw how your face contorted in ecstasy the first time he really tugged at your hair, he was genuinely intrigued.
The first time he heard you moan in response to the crack of his hand against your ass, he had warmed up to the idea of pushing the limits.
But the first time he saw your completely fucked out expression, tears streaming down your face as you tried in vain to beg him for more, too dumbed down by how good he was make your feel; that’s when he knew he was addicted.
Here you were again, on your knees and ready to submit to whatever he felt like subjecting you to tonight and he had nothing but time on his hands.
“Such a good little girl.” he crooned, notes of debasement peppering his tone. “Daddy’s obedient little whore. That’s what you are, isn’t it?”
Fire and ice met on your face, his hands cupping both of your cheeks as he leaned in close enough for you to feel his breath against your chin.
The exhilaration of the filth pouring from his lips coupled with the pressure building between your thighs made your head swim and you clenched your eyes shut.
“Yes, D-daddy. S’all I am. Just a filthy little whore for you. Please, use m—“
Frosty fingertips found your neck and squeezed with intention, causing your eyes to snap back open to see Shouto’s darkened demeanor.
“You want me to use you, baby? I might not be nice. Are you sure you can handle this?”
The condescension in his voice and the way you now had to struggle to pull more air into your lungs made you squirm, which was exactly what he was hoping for.
His lips pressed against yours, conveying a sense or urgency with the way they collided so eagerly. The chill of his fingertips left your throat and slid up the side of your face, cupping your cheek for the briefest of moments, before pushing into your hair.
You found yourself still breathless when your lips disconnected, panting as you whispered your needy pleas to him as if making a sacrificial offering to your own personal deity.
“Please, Daddy...‘s’all I want..I’ll be so good for you..”
He groaned, his cock twitching in anticipation as both of his hands moved behind you, finding purchase in the underside of your thighs.
In one swift motion, he leaned forward, standing up from the couch and lifted your off your knees. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him and you could feel his throbbing erection pressed against your abdomen.
Your arms circled around his neck as your mouths met once again, moans and sighs tangling between your tongues as he walked across the room.
The coolness of the wall met your back as he pressed you up against it, never slowing the efforts his lips were making as he leveraged you against the structure just enough to take a moment to align his cock with your entrance.
Your yelp met his now smirking lips, a symptom of trying to adjust to sinking into his entire length so quickly.
His hips moved slowly, mercifully so, as he graciously gave you time to adjust to the sensation of this new position. It didn’t take long until a grateful moan rang in his ears, which he took as a sign to pick up the pace. 
A chill crept over you neck as he decorated your skin with icy cool kisses, each one leaving a layer of frost behind, which was quickly melted away by the friction between you two.
His labored breathing and sinfully satisfied grunts tickled your ears as you tilted your head to the side, giving him better access.
The feeling of him sliding in and out of your slick, velvety walls, concocted with the added stimulation of the ice quickly turning to slush and slipping between your torsos, had you reeling.
The wall was suddenly absent from behind you. He had taken a few steps back and your arms tightened around his neck in response to the loss of the added support.
“M’relax baby girl, just trust me, okay?”
Shouto’s husky voice sounded like liquid honey, sweet, but thick. Thick with sensual promise. Your arms loosened as you relaxed into his hold, allowing his hands to bear the majority of your weight.
The muscles of his capable arms flexed taut, coated with a thin veil of sweat as he lifted you, up and down, over and over again. Each time you sank back down, you could feel the head of his cock connecting with your cervix, coaxing louder and louder moans to tumble from your throat until all you could do was whine and haphazardly mutter about how fucking good he was making you feel.
“You love this, don’t you, bitch? Like getting fucking rammed by this fat cock? How fucking deep I can stuff the pretty little pussy of yours?”
Tears welled in your eyes as the pressure inside your center became insurmountable. His disgusting words were sending you hurdling towards the apex of your journey and all you could do was try to hang on.
Your nails duh into the nape of his neck, clinging to his as if your life depended on it. His motions were so fluid and he was still picking up speed as he took in your contorted face. He was bouncing you effortlessly on his cock and eagerly awaiting the very moment you came undone.
“Let go, baby girl, come all over Daddy’s cock like a good girl. Show me what a good fucking girl you are, that’s it.”
His devious commands catapulted you over the edge as a shriek of pure, unadulterated pleasure ripped from your lungs. He didn't bother slowing down, instead choosing to pound the rest of your high out of you. There was no going easy tonight.
He marveled at the sight of your expression, willing himself to hold off on his own release, so he could see yours through. His arms never wavered, holding you securely and thrusting you up and down along his length until you were shaking from the pleasure still sending waves through your body.
“D-daddy, t—..thank you s’much, Daddy..oh fuck..”
Your eyes were too heavy to open, the pleasure still buzzing too high across every single one of your nerves as you felt the familiar fabric of the couch against you back.
“Good girls get what they want. And we’re not finished yet.”
Thought your arms were practically useless, he captured your wrists between one of his strong hands and pinned them above your head, rising his other hand to tuck under your hips and tug you toward the edge of the couch.
“You want Daddy to fill you up, sweetie? Pack this tight cunt of yours with my cum?”
You mewled as your pussy clenched tight around his impossibly hard cock and you realized he was about ready to burst inside you, but you had no words left to beg for what you so desperately wanted.
A nearly feral growl escaped him as he felt your walls grow even tighter around his throbbing length. He angled himself above you, so that his hips could continue their merciless assault on your body with gravity’s assistance.
“Of course you fucking do. You’ll beg for whatever I’m willing to give you, won’t you, you cock-hungry slut?”
He lifted his left hand and briefly lit it aflame, before extinguishing the blaze just before he palm connected with your ass, drawing a whelp and a gratuitous moan out of you.
“Beg for it. Beg for me to pump you full, darling. Beg me to use and abuse your pussy as I please. Unless you’re already to fucked out to form words.”
His still scorching palm slapped across your breast, before offering a fleetingly soothing rub and catching your nipple between his thumb and index fingers, tweaking it in just the right way to have you about to fall of the cliff of another climax.
“P-please, Daddy!”
Your cries were almost frantic, so desperate sounding for any and all of the filthy things he would do to you.
“Please fucking fill me up with your cum! Please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy! I want you, I want you, I want you..!”
More ritualistic chants sprang from your lips as Shouto’s head snapped back, his jaw going slack and a powerful groan reverberating throughout the room as he shot ribbons of white within your most hallowed halls. You were quick behind him, the sensation of his seed releasing within you sending you over that cliff again.
Your bodies both shook in sequence, as if passing those delicious tremors back and forth to one another as you coasted on your respective highs.
“Fuck, baby girl..”
His hips slowed as he rode out the lingering shock of his eruption, trailing gentle fingers over your hips.
“M’thank you, baby.”
Slowly, he pulled out and you relished the feeling of how well his cock always filled you up as you tried to catch your breath, still unable to form coherent words. His forehead pressed against yours and you could see his soft smile just inches from yours as he spoke in a gentle, husky whisper.
“You are so wonderful, you know that? Lemme take care of this mess. I’ll be right back, okay?”
Gentle kisses traced down your jaw line, over your chin, and all the way to your lips, where he let his mouth linger as he sighed through his nose. The feeling of his smile against your lips never failed to make your heart flutter and now was no exception.
He was still smiling as he forced himself to break the contact and tear himself away from you. For a moment, he disappeared into another room, until he returned with a small towel, dampened on one end, and a glass of water, which he was sipping when he reappeared.
Extending the glass to you, he sat beside you on the couch, letting you quench your thirst as he cleaned up the mess he has made of you.
“How are you feeling, baby? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
Traces of concern were evident in his mismatched eyes as he laid down on the chaise of the couch, extending his hand to you to invite you into his embrace. Slipping your hand in his, you allowed him to guide you from your position on the couch and against his chest, your back to his front, as he placed a hand on your hips.
“No, babe, not at all,” you smiled as you reassured him. “That was amazing. I know you’re never going to hurt me. I don’t think you’re capable.”
A quiet giggle echoed around you as you felt him kiss along your shoulder and up your neck, before nuzzling your cheek and placing one last, sweet kiss there.
“I never want to. I love you so much, y/n.”
He let his head rest on the couch, tugging you gently against him, so that you were as close as you could comfortably be.
“I love you too, Sho.”
His lips turned up in smile as he kissed the top of your head, letting his eyes close as yours already had, and the two of you drifted off into sleep curled up together.
926 notes · View notes
lunaastoir · 3 years
Text
fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew
characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean
gn! reader as always <3
tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!
an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 
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diluc
man. this MAN.
that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 
he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways
SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is
will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day
it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-
you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 
the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars
there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 
“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 
pls sir your hand in marriage
he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 
soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning
his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 
don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!
sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun
these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 
uncontrollable sobbing
he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 
frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 
ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️
on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 
i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup
you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”
you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 
diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 
only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 
swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 
you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 
to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT
you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 
you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 
ok last thing abt diluc 
crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 
for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 
every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 
small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief
one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it
the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 
all in all, life w him is so sweet 
kaeya
pretty boy? pretty boy. 
while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure
piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 
he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 
he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 
he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 
he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 
you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be
oh my god ok wait-
he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 
so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store
you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 
and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 
you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 
meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 
you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 
he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-
he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 
he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing
oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???
ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 
your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  
he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 
HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS
no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy
it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 
it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 
you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this
kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 
he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 
with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 
TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh
he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 
he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 
it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 
i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 
hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 
ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 
very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 
the real, damaged pieces of his soul 
he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 
SO BE CAREFUL 👹
once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 
pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 
the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 
you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 
also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 
if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 
anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 
stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 
jean
the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 
GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD
i am begging you she deserves it 😭
the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work
she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised
will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 
she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”
you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note
she’s so sweet BYE
she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 
when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 
she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 
sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 
“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”
reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 
if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 
she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 
OH-
GIVE HER MASSAGES 
she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 
if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 
so make sure you steady her 😀
after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭
while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters
jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear
bouken da bouken???
adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 
it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 
even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it
it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3
you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 
kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 
all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 
kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 
angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 
life with her literally feels like y’all are married 
so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH
your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 
you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 
you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-
oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 
she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 
will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest
basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 
thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 
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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years
Text
Little Fox
(C!Fundy x Reader)
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Request 12: Hey if you're making a request, do you do c!Fundy? If so, can I get a Fundy x half fox shapeshifter!reader where fundy finds an injured full fox!reader, and takes her home to patch her up without knowing that she's a shifter ówò? Context, the reader can shift into three forms: full fox, half and half(fox legs, tail, ears, fangs), and fully human. Thank you have a blessed day!!!
Requested By: Anonymous
Moving away from L’manburg or what was once L’manburg was one of the best decisions Fundy has ever made. Did it get lonely from time to time, sure, but at least he was finally at peace. He was away from his ghost of a father and away from the drama of everyone else fighting and the looming sense of death that lingered over everyone that lived in the once-prosperous nation. It was quiet and he was happy to be left alone, well, mostly alone. There was one exception, a snow-white fox that trotted around his house from time to time, curious (e/c) watching him with intent. He had always felt a connection to foxes considering he was part fox, he hated seeing them hurt or starving or treated with disrespect, so he kept them around. However the white fox didn’t seem to pay him any mind other than silently watching and wandering around his home, he started placing food out for the fox. This went on for a few months until one night something felt off. Fundy kept glancing out the window, almost like he was expecting to see someone but no one popped up until he remembered his little buddy. He didn’t know why it sent him so on edge, it was just a random arctic fox maybe it was the way the food was left untouched or the pull he felt to go the woods, but he grabbed his coat and stepped into the forest.
The first thing he noticed was the small animal prints littering the snow, there seemed to be some sort of scuffle. Worry entered his veins and his ears pressed flat against his head, he journeyed deeper into the forest and noticed little droplets of blood. Fundy adjusted his hat nervously and followed the blood droplets, crumpled on the ground in front of his feet was a blood-stained fox. The once pure white coat of the fox was stained with red splotches a big gash was torn from its side, Fundy felt nauseous. The wind seemed to blow against his exposed ears, almost urging him to pick up the fox and take it home. He reached out and picked the fox up in his arms and held it close, the wind blew again, his eyes widened a little in surprise, the wind seemed to whisper a thank you.
Back at the house he laid the fox down on his couch and began to patch up her wounds. Hopefully, she wouldn’t attack him in the morning, be too freaked out, he wrapped the bandages around the wound stopping the flow of blood. He just prayed his foxy friend would be alive come the morning light. Fundy flicked the lights off and went to sleep in his bedroom, even though all the windows were shut and locked tight he still felt that odd breeze tickle the tufts of his ears. ‘Take good care of her’ it seemed to whisper, his heart thudded in his chest as he snuggled under the covers. The morning sun streamed through his windows, blinding the hybrid slightly, he groaned loudly and sat up in bed. He ran his sharp nails through his hair tussling it a little bit, trying to calm the rat’s nest down. As snapped to consciousness fully when he noticed footsteps coming from his living room, very human-sounding footsteps. Fundy tensed and hopped out of bed storming into the room, a dagger in hand. He let out a startled shriek seeing a beautiful half-naked young woman standing in the middle of the room. However, he couldn’t even focus on that, he was more focused on the snow-white fox ears that sat atop her head, the fluffy tail behind her, and the fox-like legs.
She was like him.
“Fundy right?” She sent him a crooked smile, sharp fangs very visible, making him feel all types of things. “Names, (Y/n) and you saved my life last night.”
“You- Fox?! but- human-” His hands tangled in his orange hair mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that he had probably saved a forest spirit. “No shirt!” he sputtered feeling soft hands take his own, he noticed a smile on her lips, their eyes locked together,
“I’m a shifter. A pleasure to officially meet you.” He felt you squeeze his palms and he swallowed thickly,
“Shifter?”
He watched you nod tail swishing from side to side, you were very happy to be talking to him it seemed, Fundy felt oddly honored. “I have three forms! Full fox, half fox, and fully human,” You explained holding up three fingers on your hand. “Usually full fox is easier but as you can see,” You motioned to the bandages covering your chest, “it’s not without risks.”
“Hold the phone you’re telling me the fox I’ve been feeding-”
“Yup! That was me!” You giggled as his cheeks went red, “I appreciated it.”
“I gave you dog food! I’m so sorry, oh my god!” He sputtered out completely mortified by the situation. You let out a roaring laugh, it was very reminiscent of that of a fox but he supposed that, that made sense. He watched you dip your head and nuzzle underneath his chin, once again he felt his entire face burn red, your ears were so soft, the fur tickling his chin.
“It’s okay, I didn’t eat any of that. Just pretended.” You reassured lifting your head to once again meet his eyes. “Soooo...you gonna tell me your name? Or should I just call you handsome?” He felt the blush spread down onto his neck,
Oh no, she was so cute.
“Fundy! I’m Fundy.” He nodded more stiffly than he wanted too suddenly very aware of how close the both of them were to one another. You blinked after a few minutes peaking around his shoulder, oh shit was his tail wagging? A bright smile spread across your cheeks “Laugh it up okay! Not every day I get to have a cute fox girl nuzzle against me alright!” Your ears fell flat against your head, he watched pink spread across your cheeks, score.
“Cute?” You meekly whispered you pulled away a little to grab at your tail shyly, “Thank you.”
He was going to die, you were going to be the death of him.
After that first encounter, you, the real you, had become a staple of his life. You had moved with him a few days after showing your more human form to the hybrid. You knew how to cook which made him swoon, it tasted divine, he was tired of being alone. You made him feel like he still had hope, you were his family now even after only knowing you for such a short amount of time. There was an odd sort of bond the two of you had, he was happy to have someone understand him, on a level that no one has ever been able to before, especially not his father. Days rolled into weeks and weeks turned into months, it was about eight months in when Fundy finally confessed to you.
You’d spent the day away from home, in your full fox form, saying you needed to stretch your legs and Fundy let you go. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a mess all day worrying about your well-being all day, he barely could get anything done, so when he saw your white fur streak through the trees that night he knew you were home. He ran out onto the stones of the path and called out your name, he watched your ears twitch and turned towards him. He felt his tail begin wagging ecstatically and he could see yours begin to do the same, you charged headfirst towards him shifting as you run, as you arrived he held out his arms and you jumped right on in them. He felt your arms wrap around his neck as he lifted you into the air. He spun you around as he laughed,
“I missed you, Dee!” You purred out happily leaning back a little bit in his arms, he still held you above the ground.
“I missed you too Dearheart,” Fundy whispered looking up at your sparkling eyes it was then, with your white fur shining in the moonlight that he realized he was in love with you. “(Y/n)?”
“Hm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” You breathed out softly, cheeks pink, ears twitching, “I’d like that very much.”
So, he did.
Two years being together of being together was finally when Wilbur- or ghostbur- decided to visit his son. You were outside in the garden, tending to some of Fundy’s vegetables deadset on using some of the fresh ones to make soup for tonight. You were in your human form so you didn’t get your white fur covered in dirt, so you didn’t hear the ghost coming close to the house until he was leaning over your shoulder.
“Hello!”
You screamed like a little kit throwing your basket through the ghost who shivered at the foreign feeling.
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” The ghost apologized adjusting the round glasses on his face. “I heard my son Fundy lives around here but I must be mistaken!”
“Are you...you’re Wilbur aren’t you?”
“Oh! You’ve heard of me! Was it my music, please say yes!” The ghost’s eyes seemed to sparkle with hope, he shrunk a little as he watched you shake your head, “oh…”
“I’m-”
“(Y/n)! I heard you scream, you alright?” Fundy peeked his head out the door eyes going big seeing his dead father standing beside you. Wilbur looked between the both of you before a tiny smirk spread across his face,
“Ohhhhhh, I see now.” Wilbur nodded watching his son’s face go red, “My little champion is all grown up! With a beautiful human to mind you!”
“Er...not exactly.” You mumbled, allowing your ears and tail to pop up from your head, Wilbur’s jaw dropped in shock and awe.
“She’s like you!” Wilbur gaped reaching up to touch your ears, you flinched a little, and Fundy snarled at his father. “Sorry, sorry,” He pulled his hand back with a sheepish smile Fundy finally walked over to the both of you, pushing you behind him only slightly.
“What’re you doing here dad?” His voice was gruffer than you’ve ever heard it, his tail was puffed up in a way you’ve never seen before from your boyfriend.
He was on edge.
Wilbur shuffled a little fumbling with a piece of something blue in his hands. “I just wanted to check up on my son. No one’s heard from you for a while we’re all getting a little worried. I love you so-”
“Dad.” He groaned pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose pinching it, “look. I appreciate you’re all worried but I’m happier here.”
“But you’re all alone out here! It’s not good for anyone’s health, especially not a young fox!”
“Excuse you?” Your eyes narrowed in offense, “I lived out here all my life.” You bristled in frustration, “I turned out fine.” Wilbur eyed you warily and Fundy squeezed your palm tightly, “I did!”
“I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just looking out for my son.”
“No offense but I think he can look after himself just fine.” You shot right back and Fundy covered up a surprised laugh, “So far so good. Plus he’s not alone, I’m with him.” You squeezed Fundy’s hand rather tightly, as Wilbur glanced at your intertwined hands.
“What she said.” Fundy nodded his head, “we have each other and that’s all we need. At least for right now. So try not to worry too much.” He waved his dad off, “Now if you don’t mind we have dinner to cook.” Wilbur gave a hesitant nod before turning back to look into your eyes,
“Don’t hurt him.”
“I don’t plan on it," You assured nodded your head you both had a brief staring contest before Wilbur said his official goodbyes and headed on his way. “I’m sorry,” Fundy watched your ears fall flat against your head.
“What for?” Fundy’s brows furrowed in concern, “He was being an ass, you had every right to defend yourself. Plus I hate him so.” He shrugged unbothered, “I love you though.” He pecked your cheek and you smiled shyly.
“I love you too Dee.” You spoke softly, pulling him close by his jacket, his tail began to wag enthusiastically.
“Kiss?”
“Kiss.” You nodded standing on your tiptoes to give him a long kiss, he purred tangling his fingers through your hair. You pulled away much too soon for his liking and let out a low whine, you giggled happily and peppered his face in light kisses. “Fundy?”
“Hm?”
“Let’s get married.”
“What?”
~~~
Next Up: Immortality and Nymphs Part II
551 notes · View notes
kisstheashes · 3 years
Text
How to Write Gore: From a Gore Writer
To start: Gore ≠ horror genre. Gore and body horror is a TYPE of horror, but it does not encompass the entire genre. Think of the difference between SAW, American Psycho, and Pan's Labyrinth. All horror, not all focusing on gore.
However, gore/body horror is a part of many genres of fiction. It shows up in fantasy, action, drama, sci-fi...so knowing how to write it can be pretty important. And here, I'll be running down how to write explicit gore, not unlike truly horrific carnage you'd see in the worst crime scene photos. Obvious TW for examples I'll be using (which will be long)
Pick a POV. Is this going to be in the POV of the victim, or the instigator? Or will you switch between them, or will it be a third limited? You should know this before you start the story, but especially make sure you know what voice you'll be using for scenes like this.
Use all five senses. Sight, touch, sound, taste, smell. What is being seen by your POV? Do they hear bones cracking, skin ripping, fluids squelching? Do they smell metal, or blood, or old rot? What are they feeling, physically? Are they shivering in pain, if it's a victim? Or are they steady, or shivering in happiness, as an instigator? Are they biting their tongue so hard they taste blood? Example:
JJ tried struggling and turning his head away, but it was no use. The monster forced his eye open and slowly started taking his toy's eye.
His body strained and he struggled. Nothing Anti had done before compared to this pain. Blood streamed down his face and squirted everywhere. JJ's eye started popping out of the socket as the pain consumed him, making him sick and dizzy.
Anti bit his lip, breaking the skin and drawing a few droplets of blood to the surface. He contained himself and kept a slow pace, enjoying the sight of his toy's eye falling out of its socket. Bright blue and stark white covered in shiny red. Anti felt his borrowed heart start pounding, his hands shaking. He'd waited years for this. Everything had gotten in his way.
Blood poured down half of JJ's face and soaked the thread in his lips. His vision was flashing red and black and white. He could barely breathe and tasted copper. His body was giving out, muscles spasming and limbs going limp. His good eye was blurry with tears.
This could be refined a little more, but I think you get the point. Capture the whole moment, even if it takes you a while to do so.
Get creative. Everyone has read about people getting shot or stabbed during interrogations, torture sessions. Take it a step further. Use the knife or gun in an interesting way, or use a different, unexpected tool altogether. Example:
Maze tipped his head back, running a hand through his hair as Chase brought the cheese grater back. "Take it across your right arm." He slid his eyes over to Chase as he did so without hesitation. The first thing Maze saw had been the blood start making rivers down his arm. When the cheese grater was pulled away the skin had divorced from the muscle and hung in the air, making a V shape with his arm. Maze let out a disgruntled noise as he watched Chase bring the cheese grater to his arm again. Flecks of skin caught in the ridges of the grater and fell to the floor as Chase's blood cascaded down his arm. He could hear Chase's skin ripping off of his arm and his blood dripping to the floor. He could see how the grater tugged at the skin before ripping it off and the skin falling to the floor, into the blood. The whole of his bicep was bloody and torn apart before Maze commanded him to stop.
I first wrote this cheese grater scene in 2018. My friends still say they can't look at a cheese grater the same lmao
And finally, get descriptive. Show, show, show. Be visceral. Be upsetting, be horrifying, and vomit-inducing. Write vomit if you want! Get into the nitty-gritty, show how awful it is, and how inescapable it is for your characters. Yes, it's okay to be panic-inducing! This is horror- and not just horror. This is gore. This is explicit pain and suffering. It's not meant to be soft. It's meant to kick your reader's teeth in. It's meant to get under their skin and make them so uncomfortable it's hard to get through. It's like a car crash, or train wreck, or witnessing a murder. I don't think I need a final example, but I'll give you one anyway. Example:
"Attack." The wasps dived in, stingers first, as they attacked the one Sadreen wanted.
Pinpricks of powder blue blood left the other as the wasps stung, his screams turning to shrieks and confused begging, as they begged whatever held them to let them go.
Sadreen approached the swarm of wasps with even steps and the other, his smirk falling into place again. The other spotted him, shaking his head as he tried to contain his screams.
Sadreen stood in front of the other, inspecting them. Their blue blood dripped out of their wounds, not enough to fall or move. The areas of skin around the wounds blackened, the open wound pulsing with venom, the green-tinged sickness spewing and dribbling out of the wounds, mixing with the drops of blood.
“You should not have meddled with what is not yours, little one.”
The other tried to speak, cut off by blood shoving itself up to their throat, falling out of their mouth in waterfalls, and filling their mouth with their tainted blood.
In their binds they spasmed, foam leaving their mouth. Sadreen uncoiled his tendrils, their form collapsing to the ground with several cracks, as now brittle bones from the venom snapped on impact.
And to close out some final advice: Never, ever, ever let anyone bully you into dumbing down these scenes. They are horrific on purpose. Slap your TWs at the beginning, and keep moving. You gave readers a fair warning, if they read it and then still trigger themselves, that's on them. I know people have had raging issues lately with dark fiction, not to mention horror, but those puritan rules don't apply here. Go wild.
Go completely feral.
You deserve it.
288 notes · View notes
Text
Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story
Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.
*
A/N: Hello Acaster fans!
So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!
Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)
You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507
-
Rating: M
Chapter 1 word length: 2326
Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe
Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character
Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships
Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99
Chapter 1 - Summer 2019
You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.
Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.
It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.
You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.
* * *
The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.
Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.
As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.
You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.
The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.
Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).
The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.
I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.
It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.
You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.
* * *
You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.
The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.
“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”
She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.
As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”
Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.
“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”
She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”
“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.
The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.
Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”
You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.
“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”
Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.
“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.
You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”
You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.
So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.
“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”
“Ahh, you know me so well…”
“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”
“Do you have any idea why?”
You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”
Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.
It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.
As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.
“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.
You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.
“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”
You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.
“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”
“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”
You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.
“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”
“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”
“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”
Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.
“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”
Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.
“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”
“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”
Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”
You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.
“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”
Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”
Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.
“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”
They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.
Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.
“What the fuck have you two done now?”
Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”
“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”
Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.
“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”
You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.
Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?
You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.
“Y/n…”
“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”
“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”
You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.
You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.
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Text
Rainy Day Rescuer
Feyre Archeron x Rhysand - OneShot
Feyre gets locked out in the rain and fears she'll have to tough out the storm. That is, until a kind stranger opens his window.
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Masterlist | Read on Ao3
Warnings: Language
2130 words
*******
Feyre’s favorite thing about her apartment building wasn't the location or the free parking—although she did love that—it was the rooftop.
She’d lived in the building almost a month before realizing she could access the roof. The padlock on the door was apparently for appearances only, and it easily came off when she pulled on it. She figured out how to rest it back on the door so that when she was out on the roof the door still looked locked to anyone who didn't know better.
So far, she hadn't run into any of her neighbors trying to share the spot, but she knew someone else used it. Normally, she came up here to paint or to think and look at the stars. The view from the roof was lovely; she could see the city center and all the lit-up buildings, and the Sidra river that flowed through it.
The first time she set up her easel, one of her paintbrushes rolled away, and when she tracked it down behind an old broken crate she found a book had been carefully tucked away behind it.
Feyre couldn't help it when she picked up the book to get a better look at it. She glanced around quickly before chiding herself, knowing that no one else was out there with her. She recognized it as some sort of mythology retelling. Feyre flipped through it, trying to find some name or any indication of who it belonged to. All she found was an old receipt from a clothing store being used as a bookmark.
Spotting her runaway paintbrush, she grabbed it and put the book back where she found it.
That wasn't the last time she saw that book, and it certainly wasn't the last time she lost one of her paintbrushes.
In the next few weeks, every time Feyre went out to the roof she looked for the book.
It was always in that same place, hidden away so it wouldn't be noticed. But every time she opened the book the bookmark was moved a little further along.
She also started noticing annotations written in the margins. Feyre tried to imagine what this person must be like. It was odd, but kind of fascinating to follow along with this person’s progress.
She tried to focus on the fascinating part, and not the part that made her feel a bit like a creep for peeping into this person’s thoughts.
Except, when she made her routine book check that night, it was gone.
Feyre tried not to feel too disappointed. Why was she so invested in another person’s book? But it had become a constant that she looked forward to, and now it was gone. She could only hope they would start another one.
She laid out a thin blanket and sat down to look at the stars.
She must have dozed off at some point because she was woken up by raindrops hitting her face. It wasn't heavy yet, but she could tell it was going to start soon.
Ignoring the drizzle, she glanced at her phone. Feyre groaned and sat up, rubbing her face.
“Ugh, okay Fey, let’s call it a night.” She mumbled to herself, sleepy and moving slowly. She packed the blanket in her large tote bag and went to go back inside. Pulling on the door, she stumbled back a step. She was too tired, her grip was already slipping.
Feyre adjusted the bag on her shoulder and pulled the door again.
It didn't move.
She gripped the handle with both hands and pulled, hard.
Nothing happened.
“No, no, no, no, no…”
Feyre was wide awake now. This couldn't be happening. Shit.
She threw her bag down and used all her strength to open the door she ultimately knew wouldn't budge.
Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stepped back from the door.
“Shit.”
The rain was beginning to pick up.
“Really?!”
Lunging for her bag, Feyre dug around until she felt her phone. Gripping it, she unlocked it and was about to find someone to call for help...but she had no service.
How could she not have any service? Oh, gods, she was going to be stuck out on the roof, in the rain, until someone decided to come out there. It could be who-knows-how-long until that happened.
Spinning around, Feyre caught sight of her salvation.
“The fire escape!” Beaming, she grabbed her bag and ran over to it. “You beautiful, fantastic fire escape, help me out.”
Feyre managed to climb down the four stories of stairs and ladders without slipping on the slick metal. Gods, wouldn't that be a sight? She’d slip and come tumbling down the rest of the way, providing free entertainment to whoever walked past the building’s back alley.
When she finally made it to the lowest landing she tried to lower the final ladder that would bring her to the ground.
Only, it wouldn't move.
“Come on,” she muttered, still trying to force it down, “Don’t do this to me. I’m so close!” Feyre looked down to see the drop. Cringing, she admitted it was farther than she trusted herself to jump without breaking something—most likely her.
Thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. Feyre pressed herself against the building as the rain finally poured down.
“Seriously?!” She shouted up into the apparent waterfall above her head.
A knock from behind her startled her enough that she jumped around and let out a loud shriek.
“Um, are you okay?”
A voice came from a window set into the wall that she hadn't noticed before with a man’s face pressed up against it. Through the rain streaming down the glass, she couldn't tell if he looked more concerned or wary at her appearance.
It took her a second to respond.
“No.” She tried to shake the wet hair out of her face. “I’m not.”
“Are you trying to go up or down?”
Ah. He was probably worried she was just some random person who decided to hop up onto his balcony landing.
“Down.” She said, trying not to think of how bizarre it must be for him to look out and see a woman stuck outside his window, sopping wet.
This really wasn't how she wanted to make first impressions with her neighbors.
“I got locked out on the roof and tried to get down the fire escape, but,” she gestured to herself and the now downpouring rain that was making this conversation difficult, “it didn't really work.”
She hoped he would offer before she had to ask the insane request.
Thankfully he did.
His eyebrows shot up and he seemed to finally notice how bad the rain was. Hastily opening the window, he gestured for her to come in.
“Come in, it looks awful out there.”
Before she could think better of accepting the stranger's invitation to literally climb into their apartment, she picked up her soaking bag from the grate at her feet and crawled over the windowsill, quickly closing the window behind her to block the storm.
Maneuvering to a standing position, Feyre took a moment to take a breath and thank whoever was listening for her unexpected savior.
She turned to face him. He was tall, she would have to crane her neck up if stood much closer. And he had vibrant violet eyes that the artist in her wanted to study.
“Hang on a second.” He left her standing in his living room. Feyre looked around at the sofa and tv that took up most of the space, the bookshelf propped against one wall, and pictures of friends on the wall.
The man came back in with a towel in hand.
“Here, try this.” He handed it to her politely.
“Thanks.” She quickly wrapped it around herself, trying to dry off and stop shivering.
“No problem.” He looked like he was going to ask her something when something on the bookshelf caught her eye.
“It was your book?” She gasped, pulling the familiar volume from the shelf. Feyre whirled around to face the dark-haired man who was looking at her warily. “You’re the one who’s been using the roof!”
He stepped closer to her and gently took the book from her hands, casually flipping through it. Flicking his eyes up at her, he asked, “How did you know about my book?”
Feyre could feel her cheeks heating and she could've sworn a smirk made its way across his face.
“I, uh, found it one day.”
“You found it?” he asked skeptically. “I hid it behind some old box, how did you find it?”
At least he just looked curious, and mildly amused, and not disturbed at her snooping. Yeah, maybe it was tucked away, but anyone who tried for more than a minute could’ve found it, so she didn't feel as bad.
Drawing as much pride as she could muster when she was dripping water onto this man’s carpet, she huffed, “It was a crate, not a box.” He grinned and she went on, “and for your information, I dropped a paintbrush and it rolled over there. I found the book when I was chasing my brush. I don't actively seek out other people’s things to snoop.”
His grin widened as she explained and by the end, he was chuckling.
“And here I thought you just really wanted to get to know my reading tastes.”
She scoffed, but hid a grin, “Yeah, sure. I don't even know you.”
As she said it, she realized it was true.
Besides the fact that he lived in her building and was kind enough to let her in from the rain, she had no idea who this man was.
It seemed he remembered the same thing as he gave her a charming smile and held out his hand.
“You can call me Rhys.”
“Rhys?” She raised a brow. She’d never met anyone named Rhys before.
“My full name is Rhysand, but,” he paused to wink at her, “the people I like call me Rhys.”
Feyre rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting but met his hand with her own.
“Feyre. Just Feyre.” She held his gaze for a few more minutes before they both dropped their hands.
“Well, Just Feyre, I think I have something for you.”
Before she could respond, he vanished into the other room. He had something for her? What? Was this some other lame attempt at flirting?
She’d let him flirt if he wanted to, maybe she was a little interested to see what he’d try.
But he came back out to stand in front of her with one hand behind his back.
“Yes?” She tried to peek around him, but he angled his body away so she couldn't see what he was holding.
Leaning in close to her, Rhys said, “I believe that is yours.” With a flourish, he brought his hand in front of him.
“My paintbrush!” Feyre couldn't believe it. She looked back and forth between the brush and the man holding it, “I’ve been looking for this one. I lost it weeks ago! How do you have it?”
Rhys smiled broadly at her as she took it from his outstretched hand.
“I found it near the back corner one night, it must have just rolled away from you. It looked like it could blend right into the wall.”
Ceasing her inspection of the brush, shocked that she had found it—that Rhys had had it—she looked at him and beamed.
He blinked, almost dazedly, as he watched her smile.
“Thank you!”
Without thinking, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Rhys tensed, and at that moment Feyre remembered that she was still soaking wet from the rain. Wincing, she hastily pulled away before he had a chance to return her hug.
“Sorry. I got excited.” She glanced down to see the small puddle on the floor beneath her and cringed. “I should probably go.”
“Hm? Oh.” Rhys cleared his throat and nodded, “Right. You probably want to change into something dry.”
“Yeah.” They both stood there awkwardly staring at each other, not sure what to say next.
“Okay,” Feyre picked up her bag and took a step towards the door. “I’m just gonna...” She trailed off as she and Rhys pivoted around each other so that she was closer to the door.
He walked with her the last few steps, pausing when she opened the door and turned back to him.
“Thank you, Rhys. For the paintbrush, and for not making me stand outside like a drowned cat all night.”
His laugh made Feyre crack a smile.
“Anytime Feyre, darling.”
She smiled.
“Goodnight Rhys.”
He mirrored her smile.
“Goodnight Feyre.”
Maybe getting locked out wasn’t so bad, after all.
***
Taglist:
@allthebooksunderthemoon
@astra-ad-mare
@becarefuloflove
@bisexual-genderfluid-fan
@booklover41802
@charlizeed
@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks
@danibutterr
@doubt-less
@emily-gsh
@enormousbooklover
@foughtconquered
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@i-have-but-one-brain-cell
@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato
@jorjy-jo
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@live-the-fangirl-life
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@mayhemories
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@story-scribbler
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@surielandiareendgame
@swankii-art-teacher
@tomtenadia
@westofmoon
@whimsicallyreading
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sirenascales · 3 years
Text
-> double black [part five] 18+
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-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai
-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?
-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing
The killer is revealed! What surprises are in store? [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]
2,420 words
warning: mentions of domestic violence and rape, violence and straight up murder
note: here we go... this is the second to last chapter :) hope you all enjoy reading! no smut again lol
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist
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"This place... is creepy as hell," I mumbled under my breath, glancing curiously over at Dazai as we climbed out of the car and started walking towards the large abandoned factory. "Are you sure this is where Ranpo told us to go?"
"Yep~ He's usually never wrong, so there must be something here we can find~" Dazai sang, nonchalantly walking inside the factory. I sighed deeply and quickly followed him, shivering at the creepy aura it gave off.
"Ugh, does somebody really hide out here? It's giving me the creeps," I whined, hugging myself and rubbing my hands up and down my arms.
"What if there are ghosts here?" Dazai wondered and I shuddered deeply, fear striking my heart at the mere thought.
"Don't say that!"
"Will you two shut up?" A third voice spoke up and my eyes widened in surprise.
"Chuuya? What are you doing here? And... who's that?"
In the middle of the factory, Chuuya stood before a man tied up to a single chair, a linen bag over his head. Chuuya had a deep frown on his face, obviously extremely irritated with something.
"Wh-who is that?! Please, help me!" The man begged, howling in pain when Chuuya kicked him in the stomach.
"Shut the hell up!"
"Is that the one?" Dazai asked and Chuuya nodded. I looked at them in confusion.
"The one... what?"
"This," Chuuya started. "Is the one that's been stealing from the Port Mafia for well over a year. Along with that bastard Taichi."
My jaw fell open in shock, not expecting that at all. "Wh-what do you mean stealing?"
"Exactly what it sounds like. Taichi was in charge of moving product and bringing back the cash from the Northern area of the city. He's been getting his hands in the product, selling them little by little on the side to line his pockets." Chuuya seemed to grow angrier and angrier by the second as he explained. "We've been investigating that thief for three months and we finally pieced it together. Thanks to you." Chuuya's angry gaze is now on me and I feel my heart drop to the ground.
"What do you mean? Me?" I stuttered, looking over to the man as he began to struggle in his chair. He rocked from side to side, pleading loudly for his life.
"Please, let me go!"
There was a large bang! followed by a scream as Chuuya swiftly brought out a handgun, shooting the man right in the head. I was the one who screamed.
"I hate disloyalty," Chuuya spat, his voice cold. His equally icy glare narrowed on Dazai, who didn't even react to the man being killed, unlike myself. My now shaking hands were clamped over my mouth, in shock by what I've just witnessed.
"So tell me," Chuuya began, now turning to face me. "How is it that you knew that Taichi was meeting a drug dealer... the dead man at your feet specifically?" He didn't even give me a chance to answer before he continued. "How did you know that? Were you there?"
I rapidly shook my head, heart thudding in my chest. "No!" I exclaimed, taking a step back.
"Really? Taichi was killed in the South. That wasn't his area, and he wasn't even assigned to move the product. Hasn't been for months since the investigation started." Chuuya's voice was even, and it sent shivers down my spine. I took another step back. "Well? Explain yourself."
I gulped, absolute fear coursing through my body. I could feel the sweat slide down my temple and. "W-well, I overheard him talking about what he does for you. So! I just assumed..."
Chuuya scoffed, laughing dryly. "Plausible, yes." He dug into his coat's inner pocket and I gasped sharply when he held up my knife. I was stunned, thinking I had lost it, but Chuuya had it all along. Suddenly, that day I went to visit him in his office ran through my head, and I realized that was when I last saw my knife. Fuck.
I felt a sense of dread wash over me.
"I know you take excellent care of this knife, clean it regularly. Except for the blood in the hilt."
"And the bloody clothes I found under the sink in your bathroom," Dazai finally spoke up and I gasped sharply. "You probably should have thrown those clothes away before you had me sleep over. You know I like to snoop," He continued on as I clenched my shaking fists. Dazai circled around so he and Chuuya now stood before me, tall and intimidating. "You're the killer, aren't you? Actually, you don't have to answer that. We already know that you are."
I didn't say anything, my lips pulled in a thin line as I stared at the ground. I started to breathe a bit heavily, heart pounding and my blood boiling with the anger and rage I tried to keep at bay from the moments I wake up in the morning to the time I go to sleep at night.
"Well?" Chuuya yelled, growling. "Aren't you gonna say anything?! You killed him!"
I lifted my head up, and the two men looked genuinely surprised at the look in my face, eyes dark and narrow and full of anger. I was seething, but I couldn't help the sick, twisted smile that grew on my face. "And what if I did?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. "Hell hath no fury, right?"
Suddenly, there was an almost inhuman shriek as a figure jumped out from behind the men, knife brandished and slicing right at Dazai. Dazai luckily dodged it, the figure landing on its feet before standing tall. Dazai and Chuuya are both shocked, as they now stared at the perfect clone of myself. The clone didn't give Dazai any time to process, running towards him again and slicing almost wildly with the knife in hand.
"My, what a turn of events!" Dazai exclaimed a bit excitedly, taking in my clone's features. She looked exactly like me, except she looked more wild, her face contorted into one full of rage, anger and anguish with a seemingly endless stream of tears pouring down her face. Her movements were erratic, cries leaving her mouth as she lunged for the attack.
Meanwhile, I had engaged in a fight with Chuuya, but even I could immediately tell just how outmatched I was and that I had no hopes of beating him. Still, I threw a punch at him, able to get him right in his cheek, but he quickly retaliated with a harsh kick to my side. I cried out in pain, clutching my side.
"Are you crazy," Chuuya hissed. "Ability user or not, I'm one of the best martial artists in the Port Mafia! You're not beating me!" He dodged yet another of my punches, jumping back before he kicked me again right on my torso. I grunted in pain, falling on one knee.
"I'm afraid I don't like you," Dazai told my clone as he ducked down to dodge a wild swing. He quickly shot up, successfully headbutting the clone. She cried out in pain, covering her face with her hands as she fell back, Dazai reaching out to grab one of her wrists. As soon as he did so, she disappeared, his ability coming into effect. He let out a tired whew! dusting his hands off before turning to the fight between Chuuya and I.
Even if Chuuya did outmatch me, I tried to keep fighting him, until he suddenly grabbed me and threw me hard on the ground. I gasped, the wind knocked out of me. "Fuck!" I cursed, struggling to breathe as I tried to stand up. I am forced right back on my knees, a hand pressing on my neck. My anger disappeared, and by then, I knew that it was Dazai.
Now that all my anger, and fury was gone, all I had left was the immeasurable despair that settled in my chest, tears now freely sliding down my cheeks. I couldn't stop my sobbing, feeling the two men's wide eyes on me.
"He was beating her!" I cried out, just desperate for them to hear me out before they passed their judgements on me. "Taichi... was beating Keiko and... I never knew! She's been my best friend ever since I moved here and I never had a clue! Not one! Until that day she called me.. when I was at your place," I glanced at Dazai, lip quivering as I struggled to continue. "I went home and when she came over... I knew something was wrong I... then she took off her clothes and there wasn't an inch of her skin below her neck that wasn't covered in bruises I-" 
I choked up, covering my face as I started to sob uncontrollably, the pain of once seeing my friend who was so full of life, looking like a scared, beaten animal as she stood before me. As I cried, Dazai and Chuuya looked at each other, just stunned beyond words.
"I knew..." I spoke up after a moment. "That one of these days, he would actually kill her. That's why she was so afraid to leave him. He was already beating her, and raping her, what would stop him from killing her if she defied him?! Huh?!" Even with Dazai still holding onto the back of my neck, I started to grow angry. "So, I killed him. I killed him before he could have a chance to kill her!" I then stared at Chuuya in his blue eyes. "And I'll do it again."
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"After Taichi dropped Keiko off at my apartment, I snuck out through the emergency stairwell and back exit to follow him. The building is old, so I knew there were no cameras."
I carefully kept the hood of my hoodie over my head as I followed Taichi from a distance, a determined look on my face, one that said that I will not stop.
I soon followed him into the alleyway, where I hid behind a dumpster and watched him do his drug deal. He was grinning and laughing, acting smug and it was honestly fucking disgusting.
"I waited until he was completely alone before confronting him. He didn't expect to see me at all."
"What the hell are you doing here?" Taichi demanded, glaring at me. He wasn't that nice, friendly guy he played himself to be anymore.  "What the fuck are you doing in Port Mafia business?"
"I honestly don't give a fuck about the Port Mafia. I do give a fuck about Keiko, and you're going to stay the fuck away from her."
He just stared at me, before he threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Okay... okay, stupid bitch. That was kind of funny. Just go back home before--"
"And before he could finish his sentence, my clone stabbed him right in his back."
I watched Taichi fall to the ground, my clone falling on top of him, shrieking as she stabbed him over and over again in a rage filled flurry. There was blood everywhere, some even spraying on my clothes as I watched.
Then, I stepped closer, pulling out my knife and landing one more final blow right in his chest, killing him.
"And he was as good as dead."
"... was Keiko in on this?"
Keiko opened the door to my apartment, letting me rush inside before closing and locking the door. She turned to look at me, eyes wide as she took in the blood on my clothes.
"Did... did you..." she stuttered softly, and I nodded.
"He's dead."
Keiko burst into tears.
"You know the answer to that already."
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I was sitting on the ground now, head hung low as I stared at my hands. "I killed someone," I said softly, eyes burning with tears as I clenched my fists. "But when it comes to the people I love... I will do it again. So," I turned to Dazai. "Turn me into the police." I then turned to Chuuya. "Or just shoot me in the fucking head. I'm not strong enough against either of you... I just ask that you keep Keiko out of this. She has suffered far too much already."
I kept my head down, Chuuya and Dazai standing above me. Chuuya had a displeased look on his face, though Dazai's expression looked a bit forlorn.
"You'd do anything to protect your friends," Dazai stated and I looked up at him, looking broken, and small. Dazai gritted his teeth, frowning deeply.
"This is so fucked up," Chuuya grumbled, his mind moving at a mile a second as he rubbed his temples. Taichi was as good as dead anyways, seeing as him stealing from the Port Mafia was punishable by death. So what the hell is he supposed to do now? Chuuya growled in frustration.
"Did you guys..." I started, voice small as a thought plagued my mind. "...know all along...?" I bit my lip, keeping my gaze on the floor. "And when we-"
"It's not what you think," Dazai spoke up, knowing exactly what I was thinking. "You were just sloppy. But I don't blame you for panicking, bella."
"I knew as soon as you brought up the drug deal," Chuuya spoke up and I scoffed, laughing at my own stupidity. "I just wanted to fuck you 'cause of that dress."
Dazai snorted while I couldn't help the short laugh that escaped my mouth despite the situation. I shook my head, sighing deeply. I just decided to accept their answer, as this wasn't the right time to dwell upon my insecurities. I glanced over to the dead body of Taichi's accomplice, thinking he was probably going to die by the Port Mafia's hand anyway.
Dazai followed my gaze, tilting his head a bit as he tapped his chin. "There is no DNA evidence," Dazai recalled and Chuuya narrowed his eyes at him.
"Yeah, so?" he replied, stuffing his hands in his pocket.
"So," Dazai started, glancing over at me still on the ground. "There is no proof of her involvement. Man, just what will I tell the Boss now?!" Dazai threw his hands up dramatically, Chuuya's eye twitching in annoyance.
Still, the Executive kept his mouth shut, taking in the meaning of Dazai's words. Then, he looked over at me, blue eyes staring me down before his lips twitched upwards a bit.
"Oh yeah... I won the race."
-End
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tags in replies!!
183 notes · View notes
robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Same River Twice (aka Time Travel Nie Bros) - part 4 - see ao3 or tumblr part 1, part 2, part 3
-
“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, several shichen into the most awkward conversation he’d ever been forced to overhear in his life, “I think Wei Wuxian needs more friends.”
His father stopped contemplating the window with an expression that suggested he was considering throwing himself out of it and looked at him. “So you’ve mentioned before.”
“Yes, I know,” Nie Mingjue said, because he had in fact brought it up after Nie Huaisang’s no doubt unintentionally apt suggestion. “But on second thought, he needs them urgently. As does Huaisang. You don’t want them growing up barbaric and unsocialized, do you?”
His father mouthed the words ‘barbaric and unsocialized’ to himself, looking delighted. “By which you mean that you’d like to take them to visit the Lan sect, I assume?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “To learn good habits from them there?”
“To avoid learning bad habits here,” Nie Mingjue said. “Alternatively, you could always kick all of them out so that all of us can stop getting the loud and dramatic rendition of all the different types of bad decisions adults can make, courtesy of our friends in the Jiang sect and our new guest disciples.”
“…take Zonghui with you,” his father said. “Have a nice trip. Enjoy the quiet.”
There was a better than decent chance that he was being sarcastic, but Nie Mingjue wasn’t going to wait around long enough to find out – he saluted and turned to run away at once.
“Don’t get into too much trouble!” his father shouted after him.
That was ridiculous. What sort of trouble could Nie Mingjue get into in Gusu, of all places?
-
“Nie-gongzi, has anyone ever told you that you have really weird taste in rewards?” Nie Zonghui said, looking long-suffering as always.
Wei Wuxian, who was riding on his shoulders, craned his head down to look at him. “Rewards? What is Nie-da-ge getting rewarded for?”
“He performed especially well on his first ever night hunt,” Nie Zonghui told him, while Nie Mingjue flushed red and Nie Huaisang, who was riding on his shoulders, giggled. “His father wanted to reward him, and determined to do so by granting the first request he made.”
“He didn’t tell me he was planning on doing that,” Nie Mingjue hissed. If he had, he might’ve asked to visit Yunping City to collect Meng Yao – finding a reason to go there was much harder to achieve than arranging a simple visit to the Lan sect, which would’ve happened sooner or later anyway.
His thoughts hadn’t been focused on reward at all. He’d only really, truly desperately wanted to get away from any further discussion of Sect Leader Jiang’s sex life.
(Cangse Sanren was blunt and straightforward in her speech, something Nie Mingjue greatly appreciated right up until she was shouting things about size and shape and performance and also her husband…it was absolutely mortifying, even just as a spectator, except possibly Jiang Fengmian was into things like that because he just kept on arguing. In his past-future life, Nie Mingjue had had to sit across the table from Jiang Fengmian for years, and might yet have to do so again if he was not successful in adverting his father’s death, which was something he wouldn’t be able to if he kept hearing things like this! He didn’t want to know things like this!)
No, Nie Mingjue hadn’t thought about rewards at all – had already put away all thoughts of that particular night-hunt in favor of showing of his improvement with Baxia, who practically purred in his hands when he wielded her, so that he could win his independence sooner rather than later.
Even picking Gusu as their destination had been primarily motivated by seizing on the last place anyone had mentioned to him as a plausible destination that could be sold to his father.
Nie Huaisang had asked him, all big and wide-eyed and adorable, why they were going to somewhere as far away from the Unclean Realm as the Cloud Recesses, and Nie Mingjue had blamed Nie Huaisang’s suggestion of introducing Wei Wuxian to the Lan sect.
Nie Huaisang had also asked why they were going now and Nie Mingjue had explained in a rush of tangled words that sometimes grown-ups liked to talk about private things very loudly and maybe it would be better to leave them to it.
Nie Huaisang had found that dreadfully funny for some reason, giggling until both he and Wei Wuxian were rolling around on the ground laughing their heads off at the idea of going to Gusu –
Nie Mingjue didn’t care. As long as they went, and with them his excuse to go as well!
(Besides, it would be nice to see Lan Xichen.)
“Of course he didn’t tell you about it, Nie-gongzi,” Nie Zonghui said patiently. “It was meant to be a surprise. Wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if you knew about it, would it?”
Nie Mingjue sighed. Nie Zonghui was a half-generation above him – older than him by over a decade, entitling him (if only technically) to be called uncle rather than cousin, but young enough that he sometimes felt more like a peer. Certainly once Nie Mingjue himself had become sect leader, having someone like him to help figure out how to communicate with the elders had been priceless.
That didn’t mean he didn’t want to punch the man in the face on a regular basis.
Stupid sense of humor.
“Wouldn’t da-ge be happier if he could pick what he got?” Nie Huaisang asked. “What if he’d asked for something stupid, like a map?”
Nie Mingjue reached up to one of the legs currently dangling next to his ear and pinched him lightly, making his little brother squeak and then giggle again. He wasn’t sure why Nie Huaisang was still so worried about his offer to buy him a map – he hadn’t even known that the under-five age group could have a sense of financial economy, much less guilt over it, but then again he didn’t know much about kids that age anyway – but no matter what he wasn’t having any of it.
In this life, his brother would be happy for as long as Nie Mingjue could give him.
-
Of course, making Nie Huaisang happy would be easier if he wasn’t so picky.
“Didi, didi, it’s all right,” he said, trying to be soothing and not really remembering how. “You don’t need to be afraid - Lan Xichen is a friend…I’m sorry, Xichen, I really don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“It’s no problem,” Lan Xichen said, looking exactly as one would expect a nine-year-old being addressed as a peer by a twelve-year-old that his guardian routinely praised as a role model would be – which was to say, a little pleased, a little uncertain, and mostly confused. The shrieking four-year-old wasn’t helping matters, either. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to offend him...?”
“You’re blind,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him, tears still streaming down his face. “Blind, blind, blind!”
“No, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said helplessly. He had no idea where Nie Huaisang got these ideas into his head, was it a feature of early childhood or something? “He’s not – look, the bandage is around his forehead, right? Not his eyes. And since when do you have something against blind people anyway?”
Nie Huaisang buried his face into his side. “Stupid da-ge.”
Nie Mingjue patted him on the back. “Sorry,” he said to Lan Xichen again. “This isn’t exactly the first impression I was hoping for.”
Lan Xichen abruptly grinned, looking for a moment like a regular child rather than the polite and reserved young man Nie Mingjue had known for so many years – it reminded him a little of the boy from the future timeline that he’d only seen brief glimpses of through the pieces of his soul that were attached to the pieces of his body, the loud and irreverent one called Lan Jingyi.
Back then he'd wondered abstractly how exactly such a boy could be related to the Lan clan, stately and elegant even when they acted radically, and now all of a sudden he saw that boy staring out of him from Lan Xichen’s immature face.
“Bet you thought you’d look a lot more dashing, didn’t you?” Lan Xichen asked merrily. “Flying in on your swords, jumping down for a perfect landing, and then – waaaaaaah!”
Nie Mingjue laughed, because it really had happened a bit like that.
“Don’t forget the domino effect,” he said wryly, glancing over at where Wei Wuxian was being plied with treats from a bag pulled from Nie Zonghui’s sleeve – he’d started sympathy crying when Nie Huaisang had inexplicably started wailing, and was having trouble stopping even though he admitted that nothing was actually wrong with him other than having feelings. “They’re probably just over-tired from the trip.”
“Did you really fly all the way from Qinghe?” Lan Xichen asked eagerly. “All by yourself?”
“We made a lot of stops –”
“But you were on your own sword, right? Just you?”
“It’s a saber and I was carrying Huaisang, but yes, in terms of who was in charge of propulsion, it was just me.”
Lan Xichen heaved a sigh full of obvious envy, and Nie Mingjue smiled. “If you want, I can petition your uncle that you act as my guide to the surrounding environs as well as the Cloud Recesses itself? He’d have to let you fly by yourself if that was the case.”
“Oh, would you?” Lan Xichen enthused. “That would be great! I’m not that good yet, but I’m not going to get good if I don’t have a chance to practice, except Uncle is always saying that – oh, wait, I’m not supposed to say –”
“Speaking of others behind their back is prohibited,” Nie Mingjue said solemnly, then cracked up at the dumbfounded expression on Lan Xichen’s face. “No, I’m sorry, I won’t quote your sect rules at you, I promise, it was just a joke…”
“You’d better!”
He rather liked this enthusiastic version of Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue thought.
Even Nie Huaisang seemed to have gotten over his initial fright to start begrudgingly enjoying all of Lan Xichen’s chattering and bustling around – Nie Mingjue thought he might, given that Lan Xichen currently reminded him immensely of an extremely chatty blue-breasted quail and Nie Huaisang had always liked those. There was so much life in Lan Xichen, good humor and cheer filling him up until he was practically bursting with it; he hadn’t yet had to learn how to hold back his feelings and hide them, hadn’t yet learned that the only acceptable way to interact with others was through a carefully practiced smile.
Perhaps what was why Lan Xichen had been so drawn to Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue reflected – Meng Yao had hidden himself underneath a smile, too. Where he himself had admired Meng Yao for what he had thought was his strength of character, his ability to ignore the jibes and the slights he faced in favor of carrying on and doing what must be done, just as Nie Mingjue longed to be able to do, perhaps Lan Xichen had from the very first moment seen Meng Yao as someone in need of sympathy and affection. Perhaps it had been his own suffering projected onto Meng Yao’s open, facile face that had so tugged on his heartstrings.
It was a little odd, though.
It was a long time ago, but Nie Mingjue recalled meeting Lan Xichen when they were both quite young, and if he put his mind to thinking about it, he was pretty sure they would have met in about two years’ time – his fourteen to Lan Xichen’s eleven, with Nie Huaisang nearly six and Lan Wangji nearly seven. And yet the Lan Xichen he had met had been so very different from this, far more serious and reserved, quiet more often than not, that practiced smile already on his face and only with great reluctance melting into something real…
He wondered why there had been such a great change.
In the meantime, Nie Mingjue relieved Nie Zonghui of his duties on account of their safety – the older man had been to Gusu before for discussion conferences, and looked extremely bored – and took Nie Huaisang’s hand in one hand and Wei Wuxian’s in the other, and the three of them followed Lan Xichen around as he pointed out all the things he liked best.
Wei Wuxian broke away at one point and sped into the brush, shrieking something about a rabbit, and when they gave chase and found him again, he’d somehow bumped into Lan Wangji, who with his white clothing and solemn expression resembled nothing so much a bunny himself.
“Nie-da-ge, this is my friend!” Wei Wuxian hollered, even though they couldn’t have been talking for more than a few minutes before the rest of them caught up. “His name’s Lan Zhan! I’m keeping him forever!”
Nie Huaisang sniggered, and Nie Mingjue poked him – it was rude to laugh at other people’s earnestness.
“That’s nice, Wuxian,” he said, and formally saluted Lan Wangji, knowing how much the other boy liked rules and things being done right. “I’m pleased to meet you, Wangji. I hope we can be friends as well.”
Lan Wangji stared at him mutely for a long moment, and then his entire face slowly turned bright red as if he were boiling.
Nie Mingjue blinked, unsure about the reason for such an extreme reaction, but standing beside him Lan Xichen cackled. “Oh, oh, this is great,” he crowed. “Wait till I tell Mom!”
Lan Wangji attempted to bite him, which naturally made Wei Wuxian leap to his friend’s assistance, and somehow Nie Huaisang ended up wading into the fray with a stick that he waved around like a war-fan, seeking inexplicably to defend Lan Xichen despite having previously displayed no fondness for him at all.
Nie Mingjue waded in as well, of course, trying to separate them and somehow ending up as everyone’s target when they realized that he was strong enough to pick them all up and toss them (lightly) into the piles of soft grass that covered the meadow, even Lan Xichen, and at that point they all threw themselves at him eagerly in order to be throw back.
Nie Mingjue wasn’t really thinking about that, though. He was thinking about what Lan Xichen had said.
He was thinking about – Mom.
Not Nie Mingjue’s own, naturally. She’d been gone since he was younger than Nie Huaisang was now. Perhaps it was because Nie Mingjue had his father and his aunts and his uncles, but he had never really felt the lack of her all that much, except maybe when he needed to learn some etiquette he didn’t know or when his peers spoke fondly of their own mothers. Nor was he thinking of Nie Huaisang’s mother, who had been very nice and whose untimely death had upset him immensely; he honestly hadn’t thought of either of them in years and years by the time he’d died.
But rather, he thought about Lan Xichen’s mother – Lan Wangji’s mother –
Nie Mingjue hadn’t learned the story of her fate until much, much later in life, when he was very nearly an adult. The Lan sect had always kept their secrets very well, and he might never have learned the details if it hadn’t been for Lan Xichen willingly divulging them. He’d told him the whole awful story of how his mother had not loved his father even though he loved her, how she had killed someone dear to him, how he had married her to save her and gone into seclusion to punish himself, how the Lan sect, ever concerned with its face, had covered it all up by forcing her into permanent seclusion…
The story had never really sat right with him. A punishment was one thing, entirely justifiable; murder was murder, and life imprisonment was a valid sentence, a valid commutation of the death sentence that she probably ought to have received. It was not Nie Mingjue’s place to question how the Lan sect selected and imposed punishments…
And yet, something about it had always felt rotten.
Maybe it was only that the Nie sect didn’t believe in solitary imprisonment. Or, well, really solitary anything, with even seclusion being done in a relatively well-traveled area so that those inside could, if they wished, open a one-sided window to hear the noise and know that their family was around them. Even their tombs, their saber halls, were joined together into what was practically a necropolis – even in death, the Nie sect would rather be together than apart.
If he recalled correctly, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji’s mother would soon be taken away from them for good. She’d died when Lan Xichen was – ten? Ten to Lan Wangji’s six, yes, that sounded right.
A year from now, then. Less, maybe.
“– xiongzhang is da-ge, not er-ge!”
“No, you don’t understand, my da-ge is older – and bigger – so he’s da-ge, and your xiongzhang is er-ge, and that means you’d be san-ge, and Wei-gege is – wait, which one of you is older?”
“Huaisang, it doesn’t work that way, we’re not the same family –”
“What are you even talking about?” Nie Mingjue asked, abruptly coming out of his thoughts. They’d continued playing while he daydreamed, and now Lan Xichen was perched on his back like a monkey, with Nie Huaisang on one of Nie Mingjue’s shoulder while Wei Wuxian hung off the other arm’s bicep and Lan Wangi clung to his neck in front like a sloth on a branch, as Nie Mingjue demonstrated that he could, in fact, keep walking with all of them attached. Every single one of them seemed to think this was the absolute height of entertainment. “Who’s related to what now? Huaisang, can’t you just call Xichen Xichen-ge or something?”
“Oh, fine. Xichen-gege! Xichen-gege!”
“Nie-didi! Nie-didi!”
“Too loud,” Lan Wangji sniffed.
“Didn’t you hear Lan Zhan?!” Wei Wuxian promptly hollered at the top of his lungs. “You’re all being too loud!”
“I’m going to throw each and every one of you into a pond,” Nie Mingjue said. “One by one, if I have to.”
“Do you promise?” Lan Xichen giggled in his ear. “That sounds like fun!”
“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, “I had a different thought. How about we play hide-and-seek?”
-
The advantage of future knowledge, Nie Mingjue thought, was that he knew exactly where Madame Lan’s home was and how to get there within the time period he’d suggested for the initial hiding.
The disadvantage was that he was so focused on achieving his goal that he forgot that what implications might be taken from a twelve-year-old boy breaking into a woman’s home, especially at a time when she wasn’t expecting visitors.
“I’m so sorry!” he all but shrieked, covering his eyes even though he had already turned his back. “Please put on clothing!”
“Oh, your face –” Madame Lan was guffawing. “You’re so red – boy, you don’t have to throw yourself out the window in penance or anything. I’m still wearing my inner robe, you can’t even see anything.”
“It’s still inappropriate!”
“Could be worse. I could’ve been –”
“Please don’t finish that sentence,” he begged. “I swear I’m not actually doing this because I have a crush on you, so please, please, please don’t give me any details about what you do in the privacy of your own home, okay? And stop offering me your under-things! I don’t want them!”
“I was only doing laundry,” she said, almost crying with laughter. “I didn’t mean to throw my underwear at your face, it was really just the closest thing to hand…who are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be introducing yourself to me?”
“I’ll introduce myself when you’re dressed and not a moment earlier.”
“Oh, all right, have it your way. Give me a moment.” There was some rustling. “All right, turn around.”
He peeked and sighed with relief: Madame Lan was, in fact, appropriately dressed in a lovely white silk dress, adorned with the typical Lan sect cloud embroidery and everything. The style was a little freer and less conservative than he might have expected to see the mistress of a Great Sect wearing, but then again he supposed she’d never actually had to do the work associated with it. It was hard to host a society party from seclusion…
“Qinghe Nie’s Nie Mingjue greets He Kexin, Madame Lan,” he said, saluting properly. “I’m a visitor to your sect.”
“I hadn’t realized that we were anticipating visitors from another Great Sect,” she remarked. “Normally there’s a great deal more hustle and bustle involved with preparing to receive a visit.”
“It’s an informal one,” Nie Mingjue explained. “Somewhat, uh, abrupt. We didn’t send word in advance. You see, we recently accepted Cangse Sanren and her husband as guest disciples, and shortly thereafter the Jiang sect paid us an unexpected visit…”
Madame Lan had clearly heard about that disaster, if the way she put her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle her chortling was any indication.
“I think I see the issue, being as I happen to remember Cangse Sanren very well,” she said, her eyes dancing. “What a troublemaker. She even shaved off Qiren-xiaoshuzi’s beard one time! I’m guessing based on the way you turned into a boiled crayfish that she scared you out of your own home?”
Nie Mingjue opened his mouth to protest, except, well, that wasn’t entirely inaccurate…
“What a charming little egg you are! You’re such a rotten liar that you can’t even do it to save face.”
“Being dishonest isn’t saving face,” Nie Mingjue said, even though his face felt like it was burning and he was probably just as red as she said he was. “The truth is what the truth is, that’s all. You’re not wrong, that’s more or less what happened – I brought Huaisang and Wuxian here so that we could get away from all the yelling.”
“You picked a good place for that,” Madame Lan said, and there was a dull look in her eye all of a sudden. Nothing like the liveliness from a few moments before. “There’s nowhere like the Cloud Recesses for quiet.”
Nie Mingjue bit his lip, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say. Right up until that moment, she hadn’t seemed at all sick, the way he’d thought she’d be – less than a year before she died, from what he remembered of Lan Xichen’s stories. He’d assumed she’d already be ill with the early stages whatever it was that had eventually taken her from her sons.
But now, he didn’t think she was sick, not really, only…bored.
Dreadfully, horribly bored. The sort of bored that drained your life away bit by bit.
Formal training in swordsmanship and scholarship began at six at the Cloud Recesses, Nie Mingjue abruptly remembered. There were plenty of lessons prior to that, of course, but at age six they would become formalized, the children shifting over from the realm of babies to proper young-adults-to-be. Once Lan Wangji turned six, Madame Lan would have had nothing to look forward to in life.
Nothing, except for her children starting to drift further and further away from her: nothing to do, no purpose, no friends…
Just boredom.
“The Unclean Realm has a communal prison,” he blurted out, and then smacked his hands into his face to hide his shame for being such an inconsiderate ass. Why had he thought he could do this by himself?
He wasn’t even sure what he’d originally come here to accomplish, other than to let Madame Lan know that she ought to see a doctor sooner rather than later in the hopes that they would be able to catch and stymie whatever disease it had been that had killed her, except now of course Nie Mingjue understood that it was no disease at all.
“…what?” she said blankly.
It was too late to retreat, so Nie Mingjue gathered up every bit of courage he’d ever had and barreled onwards.
“I just mean,” he said, tripping over his words, “if you’d like to be – a bit less quiet. Even if your sentence is life imprisonment, surely you don’t have to necessarily serve it here, right?”
Madame Lan stared at him. His shoulders started creeping up to his ears.
“Actually,” she said abruptly, “I was never sentenced.”
He gaped at her. “You – what?”
“Qiren-xiaoshuzi pushed for it, said it was only fair that I knew the exact contours of my punishment, but the sect elders refused,” she explained. “They didn’t want to lose face by having a trial at all, not even privately.”
“But – but if you haven’t been sentenced, you can’t be imprisoned!”
“Is that so?” she asked, looking amused.
“You can’t,” Nie Mingjue insisted, horrified. “The laws of war say that someone can be executed on the spot for committing a crime, but in peacetime they have to be sentenced first even if you catch them red-handed. What if your accuser recants his accusation, whether because he was wrong or because he decided not to press charges? If they recant, you can’t be tried; if you can’t be tried, even if everyone knows you’ve done wrong, you still must be released. No trial, no sentence, no imprisonment!”
“Tell that to the Lan sect,” she said dryly. “Not even my husband could do more than he did to forestall my punishment, and he’s sect leader. Nominally, anyway.”
This did seem to be a problem of the Lan sect. Of all sects, really – he had his own share of old men causing issues and sticking their noses into things – but he’d never had anywhere near the problem with the sect elders as Lan Xichen had had with his Lan sect.
“Why should I?” Nie Mingjue asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t see why we have to tell them anything at all.”
-
“Why are we doing this?” Nie Huaisang asked, tugging on Nie Mingjue’s sleeve.
“I already explained,” Nie Mingjue said, which he had. He’d also explained that he’d run in there by accident while looking for a place to hide, and he’d tried to look as much like a stupid twelve-year-old as possible when he said it. “About the lack of a trial –”
Nie Huaisang tugged again. “Not that. Why are we rescuing her?”
“Because she might die if we don’t,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s very bored in there all by herself.”
“So?”
“What do you mean, so? It’d make Xichen and Wangji sad if she died.”
“So?”
“So they shouldn’t be sad if they don’t have to be! I don’t want them to be sad because they lost a parent…don’t you remember being sad about your mom having died, Huaisang?”
“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “I had da-ge.”
Nie Mingjue sighed. He’d keep this conversation in mind for later when Nie Huaisang was old enough to actually understand the concept of death, and then he’d use it to torment him forever.
“Wouldn’t you be sad if da-ge died, then?” he asked, and felt Nie Huaisang’s hands abruptly clutch tight on his arms. “There you go. That’s why we’re doing this.”
Nie Huaisang nodded, but he was still scowling a little in his adorable childhood way, and Nie Mingjue thought for a second that he heard him murmuring something about inviting unnecessary trouble under his voice, but…whatever, it wasn’t important.
What was more important was that Lan Xichen had arrived with what Nie Mingjue had asked him to fetch for him, his cheeks bright pink with excitement. “Nie-da-ge,” he hissed even though there wasn’t anyone in the area, thrusting the package into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “I got it!”
“Good,” Nie Mingjue said, then paused. “Er, you don’t mind, do you?”
“Mind? Mind what?”
“That I’m kind of, uh, well – I mean, I’m kidnapping your mother. You won’t be able to see her as often as you do now if this works…”
“She’ll be free,” Lan Wangji, trailing behind Lan Xichen as always, said solemnly. Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth, which somewhat ruined the effect.
Wei Wuxian, who’d rushed over to stand next to him as soon as he’d seen him, hugged him tightly. “You’ll come over all the time,” he assured him. “My mom will like your mom, and we’ll all go outside and play all the time. We’ll be really happy!”
Lan Wangji sniffed and buried his face into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.
“It’s like Wangji said,” Lan Xichen said. His eyes were intense. “She’s not happy here, she’s not free here, and we only see her once a month anyway – less, in the future, once we’re both busy with lessons all the time. If she can be free somewhere else…you will let us come visit, right?”
“As often as you’re allowed,” Nie Mingjue promised, as it was about all he could do. “I’ll talk to my father about it…”
His father would probably have a fit.
Still, this was an injustice. Even if his father disagreed, it was something he had to do. He’d justify it with reference to their sect principles, and take any punishment duty his father chose to impose.
“It doesn’t matter, he’ll agree,” he said firmly. “You’ll definitely be able to visit.”
“Can I raise an objection?” Nie Zonghui said mournfully from where he was hovering by the side of the clearing. “Possibly two – no, three objections.”
Nie Mingjue looked at him and tilted his head to the side in silent question.
“One, your father said not to get into trouble, if you’ll trouble yourself to remember back that far,” he said, raising a finger. “Two, how exactly do you plan to break the array keeping Madame Lan imprisoned? And three, even if you do break it, how do you plan to get her out?”
The first was irrelevant. The other two…
“We’re going to walk out the front gate,” Nie Mingjue said, and opened up the package Lan Xichen had gotten him – as he’d suspected, there had been spare robes for Qinghe Nie disciples left behind from the previous discussion conference, and sure enough the Lan sect had kept hold of them as a courtesy to the owners. “The Lan sect has never affirmatively stated that Madame Lan wasn’t allowed to leave; they just said she was too sickly to do so. Therefore, if we leave with a Nie sect disciple who is clearly capable of walking out, there’s nothing they can do to stop us without admitting that it’s her and that she’s a prisoner – which they won’t do, because then they’d lose face.”
“That barely counts as a plan,” Nie Zonghui said, and for some reason Nie Huaisang nodded in agreement. “But sadly I think it might actually work.”
Nie Huaisang looked betrayed.
“It will work,” Lan Xichen said. “Especially if you insist that she’s one of yours. They won’t be able to call you out without calling you a liar, and they wouldn’t want to do that. Not publicly, not about this.”
“Won’t there be a problem that she’s a girl wearing boy’s clothing?” Wei Wuxian asked, patting Lan Wangji’s head.
“No, that’s not a problem in Qinghe,” Nie Huaisang told him. “You’re new, so you’re not used to it, but it really isn’t. I mean, she could be misaligned or something, it’s not our business.”
“And we won’t be lying about her being one of ours,” Nie Mingjue said. “Since I’ve offered her sanctuary in our sect, it’s even technically true.”
Nie Zonghui sighed. “And if they ask Lan-gongzi and Lan-er-gongzi if she’s their mother?”
“Wangji won’t say anything,” Lan Xichen said at once. “And I’ll – I’ll lie if I have to.”
He was truly unbearably cute at this age.
Nie Zonghui appeared to be suffering from a similar problem, reaching over and patting him lightly on the head in helpless amusement. “Okay, okay. Let’s hope they don’t ask,” he said. “But – Nie-gongzi, we still have the second problem. How do you intend to get Madame Lan out of the imprisonment array?”
Nie Mingjue patted his cousin – who he knew from his future experience was one of the finest array breakers in their sect, a charming side-effect courtesy of his dual-wielded saber cultivation style – on the shoulder. “I intend to delegate.”
Nie Zonghui blinked, then glared. “I walked myself into that one, didn’t I?”
“You did,” Nie Mingjue said peaceably. “Can you break it? I can use Baxia, if it’ll help.”
“Hmph. Yes, it would help a great deal, but will she agree to consume an array for you? That’s fairly high-grade work, and talent or no talent, you’re still fairly new to mastering the saber.”
Nie Mingjue put his hand on Baxia’s blade, which felt warm and pleased. Practically purring. At some point he would need to investigate why she was so happy all the time – she’d never been this compliant in his first life, and he’d expected her to be more vicious, not less. “Yes, she’ll be happy to help.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” Nie Zonghui paused briefly. “Also, if your father asks, you held Baxia to my throat and made me do it. It was definitely not me being curious about whether or not I could break such a complicated array.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Nie Mingjue said understandingly, and drew Baxia. “All right. Let’s go get ourselves banned from the Cloud Recesses.”
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soft--dragon · 3 years
Text
Bees and Daisies
Hello!! It's me again :D You guys seemed to really enjoy that last mcyt fic I made with Wilbur and Tommy (I may be working on a part 2...)
Sooooo have this in the meantime! I wrote this instead of sleeping so please be kind I was very tired
Word Count: 2,041
Warnings: None
This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)
Enjoy lovelies 💙
Tubbo fell back onto the grass with a heavy sigh, stretching his arms back then letting them fall back above his head.
"Man, I'm dead."
"Same" Tommy groaned next to him, arm over his eyes to block the sun. "God why did we think staying up till 4 last night was a good idea?"
"Cause we're both idiots" Tubbo replied.
Tommy lazily swung at him with his hand, nowhere near hitting Tubbo. "Fuck you I'm an intellectual."
Tubbo giggled. "Debatable."
"Rude" Tommy grumbled but was too tired to really argue. He sunk further into the grass, the warmth only adding to his sleepy mood. "Ya know, taking a break from streaming for a week was the best damn decision we've ever made."
Tubbo hummed in agreement. "Having you over for the week was the best decision we've ever made."
Tommy grinned. "Can't argue with that."
Tubbo rolled onto his stomach, resting his head on his arms. They lay in a comfortable silence for awhile.
Tubbo suddenly gasped. "Tommy don't move, whatever you do, do not move."
Tommy froze. "What? Tubbo, what is it? Tubbo?"
Tubbo's eyes lit up with his smile. "There's a bee on you!"
Panic briefly gripped Tommy. "Fucken what-?! Wave it off!"
"No!" Tubbo shot back firmly, "he's just chilling, I'm not going to get rid of him!"
"Tubbo can I move my arm at least so I can see him?"
"Okay, just be slow."
Knowing how much bees meant to the brunette beside him, Tommy carefully shifted his arm off of his eyes, blinking at the brightness. His eyes lowered to his torso and he tensed up. A bumblebee sat calmly on his stomach, antenna shifting with the breeze.
Tommy stared at the fuzzy critter, flicking his eyes over to his friend. "It's fucken huge Tubbo."
"He's beautiful" Tubbo interrupted him firmly. "Don't be rude."
"It's not like he understands me-"
"Yes he does."
Tommy once again couldn't be bothered arguing. He kept his eyes on the bumblebee as it calmly sat on his shirt, beginning to wash it's face.
Okay it was kinda cute.
Tommy slowly let himself lay back, the bee barely reacted to his movements.
"Gonna name it or some shit?" Tommy found himself asking after a moment.
"Already have" Tubbo replied, resting his head back on his arms and watching the bee with half lidded eyes.
"And?"
"Honeypuffs."
"Jesus christ" Tommy sighed heavily but couldn't stop the smile crossing his face. "That is so dumb."
"Think you could come up with a better name?"
"Pogchamp" Tommy replied without hesitation.
Tubbo laughed softly. "You would."
"Obviously."
The bee shifted around, waddling up to Tommy's chest making him tense again.
"Tubbo what do we do if he stings me?"
"We freak out and after you're killed by Honeypuffs, I'll hold you a funeral."
"What-?!"
"I'll invite Wilbur and Phil, Techno as well-"
"Tubbo shut up-"
"Maybe Dream would like to come too-"
"Tubbo he's getting really close now-"
"Sapnap and George would probably come if Dream did, it would be pretty cool to meet all of them-"
"Tubbo-"
"Ooooo what if we got Niki to come too-!"
"Tubbo help me for fucks sake!"
Tubbo laughed, "alright alright, relax."
He gently picked a nearby daisy and held it out to the bumblebee. "Come on Honeypuffs, get on the flower, you're scaring Tommy."
"I'm not scared-!"
"Yes you are shut up, come on Honeypuffs."
The bumblebee paused looking at the flower for a moment then crawled closer to Tommy who definitely didn't shriek in response.
"Tubbo! Get it off!"
Tubbo laughed again. "Just calm down Toms, you're fine."
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE!" Tommy yelled, voice rising naturally.
"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DIE!" Tubbo half shouted back, voice raising to match Tommy's on instinct. "RELAX!"
Honeypuffs had reached the collar of Tommy's shirt and was now starting the climb up Tommy's face.
Tommy screwed his eyes shut, hands clenching the grass. "Tubbo, get it off right fucking now."
"Tommy chill" Tubbo snickered, pushing the daisy close to Honeypuffs again, "he's literally doing nothing."
"Yes he is! He's bloody terrorizing me-"
Tubbo paused. "Oh so you are scared then?"
Tommy turned to glare at Tubbo and instantly regretted it when he saw the shit eating grin on his best friend's face. He growled, turning away. "Shut the fuck up and just get him off."
Tubbo laughed. He eventually gave up with the daisy and held out the back of his hand to Honeypuffs. The bumblebee instantly walked onto his fingers, crawling up to his knuckles and settling down. Tubbo took the bee away from Tommy, laying back down on his stomach.
Without the bee on him, Tommy instantly sat up to glare down at Honeypuffs. "Fuck you" he growled at the small thing.
Tubbo gasped at Tommy. "Tommy! Apologize right now."
"No, this twat was freaking me out, I'm allowed to say that."
Tubbo sat up, being careful not to jostle Honeypuffs. He glared at Tommy for a moment then sighed and stood up. He went over to a rose bush and gently lowered Honeypuffs onto it.
"Wait here bud" he said gently then turned to Tommy and his whole aura changed.
His eyes narrowed and he approached Tommy slowly. "Sure you're not gonna aoplogize?"
Tommy held his head higher defiantly. "Yes."
"You're funeral."
Tubbo tackled Tommy to the grass making the younger yell out in alarm. "Tubbo! What the fuck?!"
It was probably the sleep deprivation making Tommy easy to take down, or Tubbo was really determined to extract revenge. Whatever the case, Tommy fell down like london bridge.
Tubbo instantly locked his hands onto Tommy's sides, squeezing quickly. Tommy gave a squeal, falling into a hysterical giggle fit.
"Wahahahit! Wait wait wait! Tuhuhubbo!"
His hands weren't even pinned but it wouldn't have mattered if they had been. All Tommy was doing with his hands was weakly shoving at Tubbo's arms and chest, laughing like an absolute madman.
"Apologize bitch!" Tubbo yelled, pushing through Tommy's weak defenses to attack with no remose, "say you're sorry to Honeypuffs!"
"Hohohoneypuffs cahahan gohoho fuck himsel- TUBBO! HANG ON! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! NOHOHOHO!"
Tommy curled into a ball, trying to protect his stomach that had fallen victim to Tubbo's ruthless attack.
"You know how to end this Tommy!" Tubbo giggled, switching from skittering his fingers to tazering, the tactic leaving Tommy in stitches.
"TUB-TUHUHUBBO!" Tommy managed to grip Tubbo's wrists and hold them tightly. "STOHOHOP!"
Tubbo switched tactics again, making his touch featherlight casing Tommy to, honest to god, squeal.
His laughter had started turning into wheezes much to Tubbo's amusement. Tommy attempted to roll onto his stomach to try and protect it from Tubbo's attack but immediately abandoned the escape route when Tubbo started squeezing his hips causing him to jack-knife onto his back again, letting out a high pitched yelp followed by a series of bubbly giggles.
"Tubbo! Tuhuhubbohoho plehehehese- stohohop! I cahahan't-"
Tubbo grinned. "Can't what Toms? Handle it? Should've thought of that before insulting Honeypuffs."
"Okahahay! Okay okay okay! Tuhubbo I'll apologize pleheahese juhuhust stohohop!"
Tubbo's fingers paused in their onslaught, letting Tommy get his breath back. He rested them on Tommy's sides making him flinch.
"Dohohon't" he whined weakly.
Tubbo gave a single squeeze making Tommy flinch and squeak. "Apologize then."
Through a string of giggles, Tommy managed to get out, "Ihihim sohohorry Honeheheypuhuhuffs."
Tubbo sighed dramatically. "See that wasn't so hard was it?"
He got off of Tommy, about to go retrieve his fuzzy friend from the rose bush when his ankle was grabbed, causing him to fall face first into the ground. "What in the hell-"
Weight settling on his lower back made him realise what was about to happen. "Tommy, hang on a second-"
Tommy crossed his arms above him. "Yeah no, I don't think I will."
He latched onto either side of Tubbo's ribcage and squeezed mercilessly. Tubbo shrieked, trying to push himself up from the dirt but his arms lacked the strength from both lack of sleep and the shock to his body. He crashed back down, his fists beating the grass as he laughed hysterically.
"Tohohohmmy! Tommy stohohop plehehease I'm sohohorry!"
"Oh? Youre asking me to stop, Honeypuffs are you hearing this?" Tommy looked up to the bumblebee still sitting peacefully on the rosebush. "This man right here, has the audacity to ask me to stop, when I asked the same thing earlier, do you know what he did Honeypuffs?"
"Tohohohommy plehehehese-!"
"Tubbo, be quiet, I'm trying to talk to Honeypuffs" Tommy shoved his hands under Tubbo's arms making him squeal and clamp his arms down.
"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted-" Tommy gently swirled his fingers in the hollows making Tubbo squeak and twist in ticklish agony. "-I requested Tubbo to stop when he was torturing me Honeypuffs, do you know what he did?"
"T-Tommy plehehease, I cahahan't tahahake thihihis-"
Tommy continued, ignoring Tubbo who was laughing like mad. "He didn't stop Honeypuffs, can you believe that?"
"Tommy I'm sohohorry alrihihight!? I'm sorry! Plehehease fohohor the love of god juhuhust stohohop!"
Tommy paused for a moment, letting Tubbo breathe. "Hmmm, let me sleep on it."
He snuck his fingers underneath Tubbo to lightly skitter across his lower belly, well aware the boy was horribly ticklish there.
Tubbo snorted, his whole body short circuiting and causing him to collapse, lost in his laughter.
"Did you seriously just snort?" Tommy's eyes danced with glee. "Oh that is too good, do it again!"
"T-Tom- Tohohohmmy" Tubbo tried to speak but the gentle nails spidering over his belly was too much for him. He gave in to the sensation, gripping the grass with tight fists as he shook with giggles.
"Awwww too ticklish Big T?" Tommy teased, occasionally pinching the skin lightly making Tubbo jolt. "Well trust me, it's about to get worse."
In one quick movement, Tommy flipped Tubbo over and yanked his shirt up. Tubbo opened his eyes just in time to see Tommy dip his head towards him.
"WAIT-"
Tommy blew the biggest raspberry he could on Tubbo's stomach, his victim withered as his laughter went silent, legs kicking out in desperation.
His voice squeaked when it came back, his laughter peppered with hiccups.
"TOMMY" He gasped through his laughter, "Tommy p-please no- I'm going to fucking die-"
"Don't exaggerate" Tommy snickered but decided to take pity.
He'd fallen victim to raspberries from both Wilbur and his parents, he knew how intensely they tickled.
And he didn't want to accidently kill his best friend after all.
Tommy pulled Tubbo's shirt back down, gently rubbing the area free from any phantom tickles.
Even at Tommy's soothing movements, Tubbo was still giggling up a storm, tears in us eyes and his face red though he tried to hide it.
"I'm not even trying to tickle you" Tommy laughed.
"Cahahan stihill feheheel ihihit" Tubbo whined, hiding his face in his hands.
Tommy laughed again getting off of Tubbo and helping him sit up, hugging him a little to help calm him. "Sorry, I forgot how much of a death spot that is for you."
"Ihihit's fine, just...don't you dare do raspberries again jesus christ, I thought I saw my life flash before my eyes."
Tommy giggled again, "And what happens if I do dare?"
Tubbo glared at him playfully. "I'll tickle you until you piss yourself."
That wasn't an empty threat.
Tommy held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, understood."
"Good" Tubbo sighed heavily, falling against Tommy's shoulder. "...I'm sleepy."
"Ugh get off me" Tommy grumbled, but made no move to shove off the smaller boy.
Tommy fell back, taking Tubbo with him. They fell with a grunt, Tubbo still pressed to Tommy's side.
"Clingy" Tommy mumbled.
"No you" Tubbo replied.
Tommy giggled quietly. "I hate you."
"Sure Clingyinnit."
"Fuck off."
Tubbo grinned. "We should probably go inside if we're gonna pass out."
"Mmm probably" Tommy made absolutely no move to shift.
That was okay by Tubbo, he was tired too.
Honeypuffs flew over now the chaos had calmed down, settling in Tubbo's hair. The boy barely reacted to the small creature, smiling up at his new bee friend.
They all passed out on the lawn, under the warm sun.
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Text
Meet the Mikaelsons
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Enzo St. John x Mikaelson Reader
Words: 2363
Part 2 of 4: Part One
Summary: The engagement is official! You and your new fiance, Enzo, travel down to the spot of the big day; New Orleans. With wedding plans already in mind, your announcement to your family goes much better than Enzo expected. Now all he has to do is survive your brothers until the ceremony. 
Note: This might be my favorite chapter to write for the fact that I get to come up with the Mikaelsons’ reaction to the reader getting married. Especially to Enzo. Plus some Klaus drama and precious Elijah? My cup of tea, and I hope that it is yours as well! (Repost: I forgot how much I love writing Elijah and Klaus! Reading this made me so nostalgic. I know that Vampire Diaries/Originals doesn’t get read as much anymore, but I really hope there are some of you out there that love them as much as I do.)
-
Road trips with Enzo were always some of your favorite memories. Whether it was belting to the music on the radio or just riding in silence, listening to each other’s breathing move along with the hum of the engine, they always managed to bring a smile to your face, as well as his. 
But the buzz of the road died as soon as your bags hit the sidewalk outside the compound. The city sounds fell deaf on your ears, turned off by the sound of your heartbeat. The last time you were here, it was to scatter the ashes of your oldest brother Finn. Enzo had helped numb the ache that came from missing your siblings, but now, standing merely feet away from seeing them again, the feeling was almost unbearable. Excitement and worry mixed within you to the point that it was suffocating. Seeing the look on your face, Enzo gently grabbed your hand and gave you a small smile. 
“It’s alright love.” He slowly led you into the entrance. You gripped the bars of the gate and looked around inside.
“Freya?” You called into the courtyard. At first, there was just that still silence, but then the clicking of footsteps cut through the quiet. The oldest Mikaelson came into your view, curiosity spread across her features.
“Y/N?” She shrieked excitedly. With a wave of her hand, the gate opened and you were captured in your sister’s embrace. She pulled you further into the compound, but you stopped her. 
“Um, I brought a guest.” You stepped to the side, revealing the terrified vampire behind you. Enzo waved awkwardly, waiting to be invited inside. Freya watched him cautiously.
“Come in.” She said slowly. He stepped across the threshold and laced his fingers through yours again. You ignored her skeptical glances at your fiance and pulled her into your arms.
“I’ve missed you so much.” You breathed into her blonde hair. It was shorter than it was the last time you last saw her. Tears welled in your eyes, taking in every sound of the compound, filling your head with them. You were home. 
Freya stepped away from you. 
“I’ve missed you too, little sister.” She smiled brightly at you, then turned her attention to Enzo. “And who, may I ask, is this?” He started to introduce himself, but yet another voice cut him off.
“Y/N!” Rebekah sped over to you and nearly tackled you to the ground with an infamous bear hug. “You know it’s rude to visit without calling us first.” She scolded playfully. 
“I wanted it to be a surprise!” You laughed. There was a light murmur coming from upstairs. Three people in a deep conversation. “And the boys are arguing, no doubt?” She smirked.
“They won’t be once they see that you’re here.” You placed a hand on your younger sister’s face.
“When has that ever stopped them before?” You snickered. Like Freya, her eyes fell on Enzo, her head cocking to the side.
“And who might this heartbreaker be?” She asked. Enzo put on his dashing grin and bowed. 
“Lorenzo St. John. Friends call me Enzo.” He greeted. You couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. He was quite the charmer. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, Rebekah shook his hand. Enzo tried not to wince at her incredibly strong grip. 
“I’ve heard about you, Enzo. I have some friends back in Mystic Falls, and they tell me that you’re a troublemaker.” Rebekah stepped closer to him, her expression a dare for him to retaliate and give her a reason to tear him to pieces. He chuckled.
“Yes well, from what I’ve been told, I should fit right in here.” Rebekah raised an eyebrow at his confidence. You snickered. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say ‘Fair enough’ and sat down on the sofa. Enzo whispered. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“She wasn’t the one you needed to worry about.” 
Your eyes darted upsards as your three brothers emerged from the room above you, looking down into the courtyard, their expressions menacingly serious. Your heart was beating faster than you could speed up the stairs and into Elijah’s waiting arms.
 “Elijah! How I’ve missed you.” The tears were openly streaming down your face as he held the back of your head in his hand, his other arm wrapped tightly around you. Behind him, someone coughed in annoyance. The two of you pulled away.
“No, no, continue.” Kol crossed his arms in a dramatic fashion. “It’s not like I’m her twin brother or anything…” Laughing through your tears of happiness, you ruffled Kol’s hair and hugged him as well.
“Are you ready to cause mischief for our siblings?” You challenged, your twin grinning maniacally.
“Always, dear sister.” He cheered. You turned to greet the third brother, but Klaus was still staring down into the courtyard at a semi-nervous Enzo.
“How rude of you Y/N, to not introduce us to our new guest.” Klaus turned to you, eyebrows raised and hands clasped behind his back. You placed a loving kiss on his cheek.
“I missed you too, Nik.” You leaped over the railing, landing gracefully on your feet. You wrapped your arm around Enzo. “Everyone, this is Enzo.” A deep breath filled you with confidence as you looked up at your brothers. “We are engaged.”
 At first there was a shocked silence, but to everyone’s surprise, Klaus’ laughter rang through the compound.
“No you’re not.” He grinned wildly at the two of you and poured himself a drink. 
“Yes we are, Nik.” You scoffed. He shook his head, still chuckling deeply. “What? Why is that such an impossible thought?”
“Because I know you, Y/N. You’re not exactly the type to chain yourself to one person for eternity. Especially not someone you met in dreary Mystic Falls.”
“Well I think we both know that people in Mystic Falls can be quite charming. Isn’t that right, Klaus?” You snapped. His face went red. You knew very well about his infatuation with Caroline. Elijah shifted uncomfortably, keeping his eyes solely on you. Kol jumped down to join you, throwing an arm around your shoulder. 
“This calls for celebration! Not only has the prodigal sister returned, she has brought a new member to the family. I say we all head to Rousseau's for a drink.” He proposed, but the rest of the family wasn’t as sure.
“You don’t care what is going on as long as it means a round of drinks, do you?” Rebekah snapped at her wily older brother. She turned to you, and her scowl slowly spread into a smile. “But I suppose a wedding wouldn’t be such a bad idea…” You squealed with excitement and pulled her into another bear hug. “What can I say; I’m a hopeless romantic.” You pulled away and shot Enzo a look as if to say ‘I told you’. Elijah slowly walked down the stairs, not saying a word, his expression unreadable. 
“Eli?” You stepped towards him cautiously. Of all of your siblings, you wanted his approval the most. Of course, you wanted everyone to love Enzo as much as you did, but Elijah was different. He would hide his true feelings if it meant pleasing everyone else. You just wanted him to be deeply and truly happy for you. After a moment of your stares, he finally smirked and shrugged his shoulders. He took your face in his hands and softly kissed your forehead with a small smile. 
“I’m just happy you’re home.”  
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around your big brother’s neck. He chuckled and shot Klaus a warning glance over your shoulder. He held up his hands innocently with a coy smile. 
“What do you say…” Klaus was off of the balcony and in front of him in a blink. “Enzo?” He questioned, taking a step towards the much younger vampire. Through his nerves, Enzo smiled back, flashing his teeth. 
“Drinks on me.” 
-
After a round of bourbon and whiskey, the whole family settled back to the compound for the night, with you and Enzo taking your usual room. You flopped down onto the bed, giggling like a little schoolgirl. Enzo laid down next to you, grinning at your happiness. 
“I can’t believe I’m home!” You sighed merrily. Enzo played with a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger.
“I can definitely see that I have my work cut out for me.” He smirked. You bit your lip.
“You hate them, don’t you.” You pouted, running your fingers through your hair. “I know that they can be difficult and dramatic but-”
“I don’t hate your family.” Enzo interrupted, his deep laugh sending waves through you. “I just don’t think they like me very much.”
“They’ll learn to love you, I promise.” You pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. “I’m just worried Klaus won’t let them have the chance.” 
“So am I.” He muttered. A knock at the door alerted you both. You scrambled away from your fiancé. 
“Come in!” You shouted and the knob turned. Elijah stepped into the room and you could practically feel Enzo’s relief. Elijah sensed his nervousness as well and smirked. 
“I hope that you are feeling at home, Lorenzo. I know that we can be…difficult to adjust to.” He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, like he had some great matter to discuss. “Y/N, I was wondering if I could have a word with you before you settled in for the night.” 
“Uh, yeah.” You said, feeling slightly skeptical. Enzo shook his head frantically, worrying that this may be a plot to get him in the room alone so that Klaus could pounce. You shot him a glare before following your brother into the library down the hall. 
“I see that your fiancé isn’t quite used to Niklaus’ hospitality.” Elijah chuckled. You cringed. 
“Yeah… I think they just need a little time.” 
“I believe a few decades will do.” He noted with a smile. The two of you laughed. His expression became serious. “Y/N, I am not going to try and change your mind about marrying Lorenzo.” You opened your mouth to object, but he cut you off with a wave of his hand. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into.”
“I’ve lived for a thousand years, Eli. I think I know that marriages can be difficult.” You scoffed. Elijah sighed.
“That is not what I meant.” He watched you intensely. “You are bringing him into our family. Our enemies will become his. Lorenzo is much more vulnerable than you and I. He can be killed just as easily as any other vampire.”
“Enzo knows all of this. And he can handle himself.” You protested. “Besides, we will be there to protect him.” Elijah put a hand on your shoulder. 
“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I truly do.” He looked deeply into your eyes, trying to get his point across. “I simply don’t want to see you lose Lorenzo the way Hayley lost Jackson.” You remembered the day that Hayley called you to tell you that Jackson had been killed. You had grown close to the kind werewolf, and finding out about his death had been crushing. 
“You’re right.” You sighed, closing your eyes so you weren’t looking into your brother’s concerned stare anymore. “I hadn’t even really thought of the danger I would be putting him in....” You blew out a long frustrated breath. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I mean, what was I really thinking? That I could just force him into our family? I thought that it would fix everything but maybe I just wanted to rush into this so he couldn’t run away. Maybe I should just call everything off. Let him find someone who’s rivalries don’t extend back to the 12th century.” You ranted until you were out of breath.
He was right, of course. Your noble big brother was always right. Enzo didn’t just have Klaus to worry about, though he was certainly a big enough problem on his own. Your panic was evident and you started to pace. Elijah grabbed your arms and forced you to look at him again. 
“Y/N, do you love him?” He questioned, taking you off guard. 
“What?”
“It is a simple question, dear sister.” He laughed. “Do you love Lorenzo?” You took a deep breath.
“Of course I love him, Elijah. I asked him to marry me!” You exclaimed. “But-”
“Marry him.” He interrupted. “If there is one thing I have learned from loving Hayley, it is that we never know which day could be our last together. I wake up everyday knowing that I could lose her. But when I see her next to me, I realize that we must cherish what we have instead of living in the fear of losing it.” He placed a caring hand on your cheek. 
“Is this your way giving me your blessing?” You asked, feeling slightly confused.
“I suppose you could call it that.” He smirked and you nearly tackled him in a hug. You pulled away.
“There is one more thing I need you to do.” You bit your lip anxiously. “Make sure that Nik doesn’t make a massacre of my future husband?” 
“I’ll do my best.” Elijah snickered. “And do make sure he doesn’t do anything to aggravate Niklaus.”  
“Klaus would be more infuriated if he didn’t put up a fight.” You grinned and started out of the library door. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Elijah called back. “And do keep the noise down. We do all have enhanced hearing, remember?” 
You laughed as you raced back down the hall into your room. Enzo was pacing in front of the bed, nerves clearly still on edge. When he saw you, his eyes immediately went wide. 
“What did he-” He started, but he was quickly interrupted by your ecstatic kiss, knocking him over onto the bed. He pushed you back, surprised by your sudden enthusiasm. “Y/N, what did your brother say?”
“We’re going to be married!” You squealed, coming in for another kiss. 
-
Keep Reading to: Get Me to the Church On Time
General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks
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