#snow white with the red hair story ideas

[kirayaykimura]

This is the 2023 Trope Madness prize rightfully won by @traditional-with-a-twist. I hope you like it.

There was a fox in the forest one early summer morning. That in and of itself was not unusual. What was unusual was the way he spoke. 

“Why, good morning, Miss,” the fox purred. “Barely dawn and you’re already out in the woods. What brings you?” 

Fog wound itself around the fox’s rust red paws, stubbornly clinging to the forest floor even as the sun was just beginning to chase it off. The fox’s tail swiped through the haze to wrap itself around his paws instead. He sat politely and stared up at her, unblinking. 

Well, Shirayuki supposed, she was not an expert on everything in the world. Who was to say talking foxes hadn’t always existed, and she simply hadn’t come across one? 

“Good morning, Mister Fox,” she said. 

“What business have you in this here fine forest?” the fox asked. 

She replied, “I am here to gather some plants.” 

“For what purpose?” The fox licked his lips. “Lunch, perhaps?” 

“Medicine. I work in an apothecary.”

“You’re an apothecary.”

“An assistant apothecary.” 

“So you are used to helping people in need.” 

“I try,” Shirayuki said. She crouched low to get as close to eye level as she could to the fox then. It felt strange to stand so far above him when she asked, “Do you need help, Mister Fox?” 

“Who, me?” He rose onto all fours and turned away with a swish of his tail, nose in the air. He took two steps away from Shirayuki, then turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye. “I need no help. You, however…” 

“Me?” Shirayuki prompted when the fox simply trailed off without further explanation. 

The fox sauntered back to his original place in front of Shirayuki, though he did not sit this time. He said, “It is only that these trees do not like interlopers.”

“I promise I won’t do anything harmful while I’m here.” 

“Yes, but they can’t exactly trust your word as a stranger, you know. If, however, you had someone to vouch for your good character, they would let you do as you please. And I would be happy to vouch for your clearly upstanding character if only you agree to do three things for me.”

Sly, golden eyes that had previously been flitting all around the forest in a show of disinterest finally met her gaze and held it, waiting for an answer. 

“Alright,” Shirayuki said. 

On a normal day, she would be opposed to being tricked and coerced in this manner. As this was not a normal day, and as the fox was clearly too proud to ask for the help he clearly needed, she decided to play along. 

“Just like that?” the fox asked, clearly in disbelief. 

“Alright, I will hear you out.” 

“Careful, Miss. Words have meaning, and unless you are specific with yours someone might take advantage.”

“I tend to believe people are good if given the opportunity to be good.” 

“What a dangerous way to live,” the fox said softly. Then, shaking off the moment, he said, “First, you must take me home with you. Second, you must feed me from your plate when you eat. Third, you must let me sleep in your bed with you.” 

“For how long?” 

“One day and one night.” 

Only for today? She could handle that. She held out her hand and said, “I agree to your terms, Mister Fox.” 

His glanced at her outstretched hand, an approximation of a smirk flitting across his maw. After a moment, he placed his paw in her palm and let her shake it. 

“Please,” he said, voice low and honeyed, “call me Obi.” 

As early morning bled into afternoon, Shirayuki went about her business. Obi followed close on her heels when she moved, and watched her work from the shade when she stopped to gather this or that. When the work was done, they returned to Shirayuki’s modest apartment at the edge of town and shared a simple meal of bread and apples - from the same plate, of course, as per Obi’s earlier stipulation. After, she set about sorting what she’d gathered while Obi poked his snout curiously into just about every inch of her home. More than once, she heard something wobble precariously, only to hear a shout of, “It’s alright, Miss! Nothing to worry about over here!” 

The time inevitably came, after the sun had disappeared from the sky and Shirayuki had shared her second meal of the day, to confront Obi’s final stipulation. She took in mud caked around his paws, the sauce from the evening’s meal staining the white fur around his mouth, and began filling the bath. 

Obi took a lot of convincing, but he learned there was no denying Shirayuki when she’d set her mind to something. That something at the moment just happened to be letting her scrub between his toes. 

“You know,” Obi said, sounding mortified, “most people simply kick me out at this point so I don’t dirty their bed.” 

“That’s awful,” Shirayuki said and continued scrubbing. 

Humiliation complete, Obi was allowed to curl up on a towel on one side of Shirayuki’s small bed. She slid under the covers on the other side, having just enough room to lay on her side. She chose the side that would allow her to have Obi at the small of her back rather than spoon him. It felt more dignified if slightly less hospitable. 

“Goodnight,” Shirayuki said once she’d settled. “I hope you sleep well.” 

“This is it?” Obi asked after a moment of silence. “You’re really going to let me sleep here. No questions or tricks?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why?” 

She peeked over her shoulder and found him watching her with evident confusion and more than a little wariness. Like he was waiting for her to kick him out of her bed at any moment. She wondered how many times he’d tried to ask for help and been denied. She swallowed the indignation on his behalf that welled inside her at the thought and said, “Because you asked me to.” 

The rest of the night was not comfortable. Shirayuki was so unused to sharing a bed with anyone - man or creature - that she stirred at every slight movement from her current companion. At one point, he pushed up against her back so forcefully she thought she might topple right over onto the floor, but she managed to hold her ground. 

She gave up any hope for sleep at the first sign of dawn. It was fine. She’d slept less in her life. Honestly, she would have been fine not sleeping at all and giving Obi the bed, but it seemed like they needed to share the bed for anything to work. So yes, the lack of sleep was fine. The man in her bed was most certainly not. 

“Who are you?” she demanded, already across the room, back pressed against a wall and all of her attention on the stranger in front of her. Her hands shook as anger flooded her veins. Someone had taken the liberty to sneak into her house and into her bed in the middle of the night. The absolute gall. 

The man’s eyes went from sleepy and half-open to fully alert in no time at all. He glanced down at himself, discovered he was nude, and hastily covered himself with the bit of sheet that Shirayuki had claimed the night before. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” the man said. He seemed to get distracted by his own hand then, and let out a laugh. He looked over at her again and said, “Miss, you did it! You broke the curse.” 

Slowly, groggily, Shirayuki’s mind put together the pieces. The golden eyes. The lack of fox in her apartment. The Miss. She didn’t know what to expect at the end of all this, but it certainly wasn’t a man with shoulders so broad they nearly took up the entire bed. She’d seen men naked before, of course, but something about this particular naked man had her cheeks flushing. She averted her gaze to the ceiling to give them both some semblance of privacy and said, “I take it you’re Obi? Or were Obi?” 

“Still am, Miss.” In the very edges of her periphery she was trying her best to ignore, she saw him nod.  

“Oh,” she said. “Well, that’s good then. Congratulations.” 

Any potential awkwardness was dispelled easily when Obi said, “Thank you. For everything.” 

“You’re welcome,” she said. 

Obi insisted on making her breakfast as an official thank you gesture. Her stomach agreed before she did. Breakfast turned into lunch, and Obi never left. They lived happily ever after.

[noctusfury]

Violet Evergarden and Akagami no Shirayukihime/Snow White with the Red Hair Anime/Manga Fanfic Ideas Poll

If you need to look through the summaries of these story ideas so that you can choose them more easily, please take a look at this post here.

My List of Future Anime/Manga Fanfics

The poll will end on March 18th, on 23:00, or 11pm CST.

[ellastone-olsen]

can you write a smut story where reader had to wait the entire ceremony (Golden globes) before she could take the gorgeous dress off of Lizzie. And Lizzie’s been just teasing her so when they get home reader rips the dress and takes Lizzie please 🙏🏻 I love your writing <3

Wicked game | Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x fem!reader

Summary: your girlfriend has gone too far with her teasing. that's what it says in the request

★Warnings: SMUT 18+, teasing, dirty talk, overstimulation, sex toys, strap on usage, praise, aftercare, fluff

★Word count: 1.8k

★AN: I have some kind of creative block, but I'm alive. I spent 5 days on this little thing instead of the usual 1.

The car slowly cut through the road, drifting between streams of the same iron boxes on wheels. The interior of the black SUV was spacious, but you and Elizabeth still sat shoulder to shoulder as the pad of your thumb stroked her knee through the fabric of snow-white dress. "Am I look good?" such a simple question with an obvious answer, but she still needed your confirmation. You cupped her cheek with your hand and turned her head towards you. “You are always beautiful my love” You give her a quick kiss on the lips and then look into her big green eyes. An idea just came into her sweet head, otherwise you can’t explain the sudden change in mood. She takes your hand and places it on her chest. “Then can you show me how much?”

A shiver runs down your spine and you nervously look at the driver's seat, noticing how the man is looking at you through the rearview mirror. As soon as your gazes intersect, he immediately turns his eyes back to the road. “Oh don’t worry dear, he will have to pay dearly if he spills the beans about what he saw.” Elizabeth whispers in your ear, you hope that by pay she means money. She moves your hand further, under her dress so that you touch her bare breasts and moans softly in your ear, making your core begin to pulsate. "Babe." You're warning her not to start something she can't finish. Her teeth bite your earlobe and you want to pull her away by hair, but you remember about styling. "Elizabeth." Your stern tone and the full form of her name still have an effect and she moves away. You don’t respond to her sweet smile, the car is just stopping.

The Golden Globes look spectacular, but boring. You are absolutely not interested in the speeches all these people make when they receive an award. People you don't know say words of gratitude to people you don't know again. The waiters obligingly drift back and forth, serving glasses of champagne and appetizers that are inedible to your taste. You just stand on the side and look around while your girlfriend talks to other celebrities or gives interviews. When you finally sit down in your seats, you cross your legs and lean back, unable to sit up straight. Elizabeth sits in such a way that the Queen of England would envy her if she were alive.

Time passes and you drink your second glass of champagne when it seems to you that something is touching your leg under the table. You don't pay attention to it until the action is repeated. The head turns to your girlfriend, but it looks like Robert Downey Jr.'s award ceremony is the most interesting thing she's ever seen. However, where her hands are says otherwise. Elizabeth's right hand triples on your thigh, red nails lightly scratching through the thin fabric of your pants, sending shivers down your spine. You stare at her, but the older woman doesn’t even think of turning her head. "Stop it." Your irritated, harsh whisper flies past her. As a sign from above, the bell rings, signaling a break, and without wasting any time, you grab Elizabeth’s hand and drag her away towards the toilets.

She sighs when she suddenly finds herself pressed against the wall, of course you can be rude, but first cover the back of her head with your hand so that she doesn’t get hurt from the blow. “What games are you playing today?” A hot whisper near her ear makes the woman hold her breath for a couple of seconds. Her answer doesn't keep you waiting. “But you like it, don’t you?” Elizabeth puts her hands on your waist, touching you through your thin shirt and tilting her head to leave small, light bites on your neck. “If you continue, I’ll push you into the toilet, lock the common door, bend you over the counter and...” You lose your breath from the stronger bite. “And what, dear?” The bell rings again, signaling everyone to return to their seats. You stand pressed against her for a few seconds, then push yourself off the wall with your hands and rub your neck where Elizabeth’s lips were, erasing non-existent traces of lipstick. The two of you go to your seats and no one seems to notice your disheveled state.

The ride home is quick and quiet, for two reasons. The older woman realized that you would ruin her for all her antics as soon as she set foot on the threshold of the house. She was in anticipation and silently looked out the window, imagining all the options for the development of events. The second reason is what you said to the poor driver when you got into the car. “You have 10 minutes to take us back, Elizabeth is terribly tired.” The black car brought you home in exactly 10 minutes. You gave the driver a tip for being in a hurry, even though it was not customary. When the front door closed behind you, what the older woman expected and desired happened. You grabbed her hand and quickly led her to your bedroom. When the door to the room closed, in one motion you threw Elizabeth onto her stomach on the plush blanket of your large bed.

Your hands pushed her hair back, exposing her slender neck so you could kiss and bite it. The woman's hips shot up, but you blocked the movement by straddling her. “If you think that you will get what you want quickly, don’t hope.” The zipper of the white dress was pulled down, almost breaking the zipper. Her dress and panties disappeared from her in record time, and you somehow managed not to tear them.

When you took a few steps back admiring the picture in front of you, your gaze caught on her wet shiny folds. She had definitely been looking forward to this all day. Elizabeth turned her head to the lack of action on your part to check the situation and saw you taking out from the nightstand the black compact vibrator that she loved so much. There were two scenarios in her head: either now she would get the best orgasm of her life, or she would die from overstimulation, but she really hoped for the first.

You returned to your girlfriend and moved her hips closer to the edge of the bed so that she rested her knees on the plush pile of the carpet and exposed her ass to your view. Your hands stroked her soft thighs, you couldn’t resist and leaned towards her dripping center to run your tongue along the entire length, tasting her. A shaky sigh escaped the woman's mouth above you and you repeated the action, gripping her hips even harder (there might be bruises there later). A mixture of pleasure and slight pain made her unconsciously lean back for closer contact. In what seemed like such a simple and innocent action, your palm landed on her ass with a loud slap. "No, no, don't you dare move." There was the first warning, which caused a groan of pain to escape from the older woman.

After you were satisfied with her taste, two fingers slipped inside her so easily, stretching the velvet walls. The second hand pressed the toy’s power button and you set the speed to medium, bringing it to her pulsating clit. "Hold it." Elizabeth reached underneath her and grabbed the silicone object, holding it in place. “If you disobey me, an even worse punishment will follow. You understood?" The older woman's mind was clouded with pleasure, but she hummed in agreement anyway. Her thoughts were confused by the way you moved inside her, pressing on a sensitive spot. Another slap to her ass. "Use your words." Her back arched and she was ready to swear that she would cum from such rough treatment. “Yes, I understand...please Y/N.” With every thrust, you felt her walls squeezing tighter around you. Elizabeth could no longer find words and shouted curses into the emptiness of your house. “Fuck...I'm going to cum...please can I?...” You cut her off. "No. Take it away."

She obediently removed the toy from her throbbing clit, stopping any stimulation. You were still moving inside her, but it wasn't enough to make her fall over the edge. “Oh fuck...fuck...so good...please can I continue?” You were silent for a minute before you gave her permission, making sure she didn't cum instantly. The woman's hips jumped as the stimulation began again. You pounded into her at a fast pace and after a couple of minutes you felt your orgasm approaching again. "Elizabeth stop." Oh how she didn’t like it when you called her by her full name, it never meant anything good. She put the toy away again and you pulled out.

The woman heard the chest of drawers open again behind her, the sounds of the harness, and then the cold tip of the faux cock pressed into her dripping entrance. You spread her natural lub along entire length and pushed the thick toy into her in one motion. Your girlfriend’s mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands grabbed the sheets as if they would tear them. "OH FUCK ." You returned her hand with the vibrator to the right place and pounding at her at a fast pace. “Do you like my cock baby? Mmm? Is this what you wanted all this time? So that I could fuck you like the whore?” Your dirty words turned her on even more. "Yes! Yes! Y/N can...can I cum?” She was ready to cry from overstimulation and you took pity on her. You leaned down to leave a kiss behind her ear and whispered. “Cum for me baby.”

Almost immediately, the woman fell over the edge, screaming your name mixed with curses into the softness of the mattress. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm until a small whine was heard from her. You pulled out and took off the strap, throwing it somewhere deep in the room, thinking that you would take care of it later.

Your arms grabbed Elizabeth and you helped her climb onto the bed, lying on her back. Her knees were red from standing on them for a long time and you gently rubbed the skin in the hope of relieving the pain. "My good girl, Lizzie." The lips began to pass everywhere you could reach, starting from the neck and ending with her cute tummy that you loved so much. When you looked up at her again, you noticed that the woman had begun to fall asleep.

“Baby, don’t sleep, you need to take off your makeup.” A hand covered her cheek and the pad of her thumb gently rubbed her cheekbone. “Mmmmm but I’m so tired, it can wait a couple of hours.” She mumbled sleepily. You gave in and covered her naked body with a plush blanket, setting the alarm for 3 hours. When the light in the room went out, Elizabeth had already fallen asleep and hugged you, breathing steadily into your neck.

Your fingers played with her blonde hair until you fell into the realm of Morpheus after her.

[trancylovecraft]

So, I just met you today with the Cherry Blossom Kokushibo fic and, you know, I just fell in love with your writing

I've had this idea in my mind for a while and when I read your fanfic I just knew you were the perfect person to put it into words

May I request an Oneshot with Muzan Kibutsuji/Fem reader? So, I've imagined for a while a fanfic where Muzan encounters a female reader who suffers from albinism, having very pale skin, white hair and natural red eyes. Because she was born like that, people rumored her to be a demon (sensibility to sunlight and red eyes aggravated that), and that caused her to be isolated from all and unable to wed. She is from a noble family and that is why she's still alive, but that doesn't soothe the wound since her family treats her like an outcast.

Bitter with resentment, under the moonlight of the bedroom, she curses all of those who waste their health living mundane lives while she suffers in loneliness. Her nihilism, indifference and hate makes her unafraid of Muzan as, if she thinks he will devour her, she asks for him to at least kill her family too. Little does she know that Kibutsuji already knows her, and he is infatuated with her. (If he wants to wed her and turn her into a demon she ain't complaining, especially if their engagement is celebrated with a bit of family massacre)

This idea was inspired by spider lillies, moonlight and the fact that I'd like to imagine Muzan with someone who resembles him when he was a human (Narcisistic King would only date those who remind him of himself)

I apologise if this request is too long for your liking, I am not very good with words and simplifying something I am excited about!

- the banana split jane doe

(KNY) YANDERE MUZAN x ALBINO READER: The Light Side of the Moon

(DW, I gotchu girlie. Hope you enjoy this one!)

The sun's rays shone down onto the overgrown field.

The rays seemed to reflect off of every grass strand and every drop of dew fell from the rain the night before.

It was a beautiful day despite the heavy rain last night, So much so that in the early hours of the morning the village kids had left early to run around in the grass and play dirty. Of course they would, It was getting into the colder months as indicated by the chilling breeze running through the valley. The children had to make use of every wake of sunlight before the snow came in.

So out in the field there was a good group of kids in the dozens play fighting and playing tag, Not giving mind to the dirtying of their kimono's and haori's. Their laughter rang out and bounced around like they were in a cave.

"Stupid.." [F/N] muttered, A bitter resentment lacing her voice like venom as she looked out at all the kids running wild in the valley.

She sat perched under the big zelkova tree overlooking the entire valley. It's branches were large and it's leaves were enough in number to filter out any sunlight passing through it, A perfect condition for the girl.

[F/N] sat right up against the tree for support as she brushed her hair with her fingers. Her locks were pure white, So was her skin. It wasn't like the kids who had pale skin nor was her hair light like the occasional person with a story, But instead something much more extreme.

When [F/N] was born she was diagnosed with albinism. According to the doctor who delivered her, Her mother had screamed in disgust at the sight of her while her father had demanded to know who she cheated on him with.

Her father wanted to kill her, He couldn't stand to look at such a horrid child. He wanted to throw her out into the river and hope nature took its course, However, He was fortunately stopped by the mere fact that they were noble blood and had already told the village-people the birth was successful. Killing her now would only severely damage reputation. Therefore letting her live.

From that day forward she was considered bad luck.

The local folklore was that albinism was a curse from an ancestor to atone for wrongdoings done in their time. It was an omen of death, Also known as: Something to avoid.

And the locals took it to heart. Every time [F/N] would walk down the street, Every time she'd go out to the market she'd get stares, Heckled and harassed her when she walked. Suddenly the prices at the market would go up, Just for her.

It didn't help that the consequences that came with the defect definetly made it seem like a curse. Due to the complete lack of melanin anywhere the sun scorched her skin like fire, Leaving her needing to take special precaution when leaving the house. Her eyesight wasn't the best either, Though it was much better than the normal person with albinism she still did have trouble seeing at times.

The past two months didn't help her case either, With the recent mutilations of the-

A rock slammed into the side of [F/N]'s head, Making her double over onto the grass. The sound of a couple children cheering rang out from down the hill. She hissed in pain.

"Take that, Demon!" One of the boys said, Having been the one who threw the rock. [F/N] clutched the side of her head where the impact hit. She could feel the early gathering of blood start to stain her pristine kept hair.

"The fuck is wrong with you?!" [F/N] screamed.

Pushing her body back up to look at the group of kids with an absolutely furious expression. The kids stood strong however, Only taking a few meek steps towards her.

"Leave our families alone!" Another one shouted, A girl this time. Her face was angry too, Only as much as a young child's could look. The other kids who weren't involved in the group stopped playing to watch the scene.

The mutilations, Of course. They started around two months ago with the Furukawa family. It was awful, One of their elderly neighbours had picked up a rotten smell and had asked her son to go check on them. Of course they came across both the mother and the father's pieces spread across the Livingroom.

[F/N] was familiar with the two, They had often been one of the more outspoken village people about their dislike of her and a few days before had shoved her aside while she was walking around.

She knew she should of shown some kind of emotion at the news of their slaughter, But to be honest, [F/N] didn't care. If anything, She felt a small tinge of relief.

They weren't there to harass her anymore, Or make off-hand remarks. For that she was glad.

"I never touched your stupid families!" [F/N] yelled back at her. Her deep vermillion eyes were filled with disgust like she was staring down an insect she could crush under the sole of her sandals.

"Liar!" Another one of the kids stepped out from behind the small group. He wasn't one of the bigger ones, He was in fact rather scrawny with unkempt hair. But [F/N] recognised him as the Furukawa's youngest kid.

"M-My parents died because of you.." He muttered, Looking down at his shoes unable to meet [F/N]'s eyes. His hands clenched into a determined fist, His body shook with vigour.

"They were great people! You had no right to take them away from me. Just because the other adults don't see you as the demon you are doesn't mean we don't!" He yelled back at her. The other kids joined in with supportive remarks following his speech.

"One day, When I get older I'll get revenge for them. I'll get re-" A rock slammed straight into his open jaw.

The kid screamed and fell to the floor with a loud thud!

The other kids yelped and backed away from the boy, Who was coughing up teeth and blood. He writhed around on the ground groaning in pain.

[F/N] was standing up now. She had picked up the rock that was thrown at her and flung it right back at the kid. She stood there seething in a fighting stance.

"Demon? I'll show you demon!" [F/N] yelled. She swiftly grabbed another rock and hurled it straight at the girl who chose to speak out, Hitting her straight on the forehead with a sick crunch.

The previously silent kids amplified into an uproar.

Screaming echoed around in the valley as all the kids tried to get away from the ensuing fight. [F/N] kept picking up rocks from the small hill and hurling them at the group. The kids who started the fight tried to haul away the two kids who got the worst of it, Picking them up by the arms trying to drag them away from the attacks.

"DON'T YOU EVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN OR IT'LL BE YOU NEXT! I SWEAR TO THE GODS IT'LL BE YOU!" [F/N] screamed, Her voice hitting high's that could be heard from the village.

The kids had gotten a good distance away from her now but that didn't stop [F/N] from throwing more stones.

"YOU HEAR ME?! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?!" She yelled after them, Raising another rock to throw.

But by the time she had finished they had all scampered away back home.

She was left standing on top of the hill, Under the shade of the big zelkova tree, Looking out over the now empty and desolate field which had such a lively energy before but now was cold and lost.

She was panting, Letting out heavy breaths of air that turned into mist in the cold climate. The rock in her hand she was about to throw lowered, Dropping it to the ground. She exhaled for a final time, Letting all the anger and rage dissolve into mild annoyance she finally relaxed.

"Dumb kids.." She huffed. Shaking her head she leaned down to pick up the thick birch handle of her parasol.

Grabbing it she extended the blue patterned canopy, Making sure it covered her form she dusted herself off. Settling the parasol handle on her shoulder she set off out into the valley, Dreading her walk back home.

☆♡☆

"That was a horrible thing you did"

[F/N]'s mother stood a few feet away from her, Circling around her like a predator yet keeping a good enough distance to test the acidic waters. [F/N] felt her teeth grind against each other and her palms get sweaty.

Of course, The kids from earlier had ran back to her house to snitch on her to her mother. Well, Not the kids but the parents of the girl and the eldest brother of the Furukawa family being rightfully angry.

[F/N] was made aware of this when she came home at the first sign of the sun setting. Her mother was perched on the large porch of their family home waiting for [F/N]'s arrival, From the first time [F/N] spotted her mother she could of mistaken smoke from coming out of her ears.

It was frustrating, While she figured her mother would find out eventually it didn't take anything away from the experience. Though, She supposed she was lucky.

Her father being a noble and very highly profiled swordsman meant he was disciplined, And it also meant he expected that from all his children. Luckily enough though he was out on a very long business trip. If he was here, [F/N] knew that she'd get more than a serious lecture.

"So what? They attacked me first, It's only karma what they got" [F/N] responded, Her voice trying to stay levelled and calm yet shook at the seams. Her mother scoffed at that.

"They're just kids, [F/N]! They don't know any better and you should have taken that into account" Her mother exclaimed incredulously, Taking a few prompted steps up towards her daughter with purpose.

"Well maybe they'd know better if they're parents were still around to teach them better, Not that its my fault like they think though, Right?" [F/N] spat, Her voice venomous and the sheer disregard for the weight of her words went through her mother like a static shock.

"How fucking dare you.." Her mother whispered, Her voice full of disbelief at her daughters words leaving her jaw agape and eyes wide.

"Well I mean, The parents were already shitty people to begin with so I suppose that whoever ripped them apart did the kids a favour-"

SLAP!

[F/N]'s monologue was cut short by the hand connecting hard to the side of her cheek. [F/N] yelped out and stumbled back trying to catch her balance.

The hit had landed roughly at the side leaving only a single burst of a painful red on her monochromatic get-up.

"Your ideology is absolutely disgusting, How bloody dare you speak about the dead like that? You don't have any right to say that about anyone, Young lady!" Her mother yelled at her, Only about a foot away from her face.

[F/N] blinked away the tears from the pain and instantly snapped back.

"I'm saying what nobody else has the guts to! Just because you're all cowards and ignorant bastards doesn't mean you get to take it out on me!" [F/N] screamed back at her mother, Getting up into her face.

"You kee-"

While speaking, Her mothers hand shot out to grab [F/N]'s shoulder but her wrist was snatched by the younger girl, Who held it with an iron grip cutting off the older woman's speech.

"Don't you dare lay another hand on me.." [F/N] hissed. Her face seemed to be etched with a wild kind of rage like a feral dog, The single action of her mother making the anger so clear to anyone who could see.

Her mother, Being a much older woman than her daughter had much more brittle bones. The grip on her wrist being sore and painful on her old skin as she tried to pull away from her daughters grasp.

Realising what she was doing [F/N] let go of her mother, Who staggered a good few feet back from her assailant.

[F/N] mumbled a small yet sour apology and marched off towards the door out of the main Livingroom.

As she opened the sliding door and stepped out she heard her mother call out back to her.

"Y-You go up to your room and stay there, Young lady. Only come down once your ready to apologise!" She heard her mothers weak voice call out to her as she shut the door.

"I know!" [F/N] replied without looking back at her.

The door finally closed to leave her in the dim hallway, The only light shone from behind the Livingroom door leaving the entire hallway almost impossible to see in. [F/N] stood still behind the door, Making no move to head to her room. She looked down at her feet to contemplate her situation.

"Really? Hitting our mother? You've reached a new kind of low, Haven't you [F/N]?" A voice called out a little way down the hall.

[F/N] jerked her head up to the source of the voice and groaned.

Her younger brother, Juro, Stood at the end of the hall seemingly just came down the stairs. His head was held high and the usual smug grin lay planted on his face as always, He had his arms folded across his chest and his entire figure radiated false superiority.

[F/N] was the oldest of the five children her parents had conceived. Juro was the second oldest by only about five years apart in birth. [F/N] supposed that the reason they had such a big gap in age was due to the looming fear of their parents producing another demon child.

Though when they did give birth to Juro and found out he was a regular child compared to their monster of an eldest, [F/N] knew how much he'd be absolutely spoiled rotten, Which matched his personality like a pair of gloves.

It gave him a rather annoying superiority complex, With all the spoiling and being the one destined to become the head of their families clan and wealth you could probably see how it got to his head.

However it didn't stop [F/N] from being distasteful in behaviour towards him, The nasty expression on her face evident of that.

"Oh get off my case, Like you really give a damn." [F/N] scoffed, Straightening out her back to reach her full height.

"Of course I 'give a damn'. It's our mother and one of the figure heads of this clan, You really should be more respectful to your elders. Why mother keeps you around elludes me" Juro replied, Making sure to drawl out every condesending syllable to its full potential.

[F/N] knew exactly why her mother and father kept her around: They couldn't get rid of her. Their original plan was to marry her off, It didn't matter if it was to a nobleman or a commoner to them. The only thing that did was getting her to leave.

Though it imploded on itself when they realised no one would take her, Both her attitude and her looks were a big enough deterrent. Great for her but bad for her parents.

"Ah, Right. Because she shows such an amazing amount of respect towards me, I honestly feel so awful about it" [F/N] gasped, Sarcasm dripped from every word and fell like acid making Juro's eyebrow twitch.

He moved forward a few steps, Sizing her up as he went.

"Well the difference is that mother has a reason to not respect you, I mean come on, It's obvious. Maybe if you do treat her with the right attitude then maybe she might start seeing you in a different way" Juro said the last part as if he was trying to contain laughter, Like he had just heard the most offensive joke in the world he just couldn't laugh at.

[F/N] felt her fists clench and tighten to bare her knuckles.

"But with such sour attitude I do suppose it would be impossible for you, Wouldn't it? Dear sister?" Juro whispered as he got up into her face. Only a couple inches away from her now he carefully eyed her down, Waiting for one single move.

[F/N]'s teeth grinded, Her tightened palms grew sweaty and itched for the offensive attack. She wanted to punch him, She wanted to attack him and wipe that disgusting, Grimy smirk off of his arrogant little face.

However, [F/N] just sighed and let her fist drop loose into straightened palms. She knew what he was doing, She wasn't going to give into his taunt. She's had enough for tonight.

"Back off, Juro." [F/N] simply warned. Turning away from his expression now filled with annoyed disappointment she headed off towards the stairwell at the end off the hallway.

As she got up the steps she heard his smug voice call after her.

"Such a lovely chat with you as always!"

☆♡☆

The sound of childlike laughter resonated throughout the house, Despite the muffled sound of it [F/N] could hear the weight of it even from behind the thick walls of her room.

The pale moonlight of the night had illuminated the unlit room and flooded the area with a subtle glow, The silk blinds danced along with the soft breeze lifting into the room.

Her bedroom was situated at the very top of the large family home, The third floor. The massive house was large and sat at the edge of the village they lived in, Overlooking the entire town yet having enough distance to be considered a private property separate from the other houses.

The house was home to three floors in total. The first was the main area home to the kitchen, Livingroom and general activities such as a drawing room, Dining hall and her fathers very own training room.

The second was housing all of the bedrooms. All of her siblings, Parents and even the guest sleeping quarters were located there. It also even held a small room for their families servants.

And finally, The third was by far the loneliest of the trio.

It was much smaller compared to the other floors and was the newest built. It only housed a single hallway and [F/N]'s own separate bedroom which made up the majority of the floor.

Usually the prospect of having an entire floor to themselves would entice and excite anyone. The privacy and spacious area would seem like a blessing.

And yes, [F/N] agreed. It was a blessing alright. She was granted privacy from the struggle that was her family, It gave her time on her own to be herself.

But she also had to admit: It had it's downsides. Another laugh sounded out from downstairs on the first floor. The movements of the hairbrush on [F/N]'s light locks halted, Just for a moment as she listened to the joyous voice of her youngest sister.

They were having dinner, It seemed. [F/N] didn't apologise and had no intention to, So she was forced to reside in her room.

She continued to comb through her hair, Feeling the tug of the movements as she listened to the laughter down below cease.

[F/N] scoffed at it and tried to take her mind away and focus on the strokes of the brush. Though she couldn't help but trail off to the infuriating scenario happening downstairs.

Since her father was away her mother was probably the one to cook the food tonight, She always did instead of the family servants, Her own personal recipe of a Sukiyaki stew pot that she made to comfort her kids while their dad was away.

Her kids.

A mother is suppose to "love" her kids unconditionally, And in that aspect she certainly did, All except when it came to her. [F/N] knew her mother had tried at least, But it came off in the way you'd treat an unwelcomed guest. Trying to give due respect yet wanting them out of your house as soon as possible.

[F/N] had figured a long time ago that it was better to be treated with ire than pity and had given up all sense of courtesy towards her mother, Continuing to this day.

A faint tug pulled in her chest as another roar of laughter came up from downstairs, They seemed to be having a good time.

[F/N] finally set down her brush onto the vanity. The small sound of the wood hitting the desk seemed so much louder in the large area of her room.

[F/N] supposed she did need to give her mother some credit, She was the one to let her have the single room at the very top of the house (Even if it was to keep her away from the rest of her family)

But the room seemed so.. Empty.

[F/N] stared into the vanity mirror, The light surface of the glass reflecting her own pale visage back at her.

She trailed a hand across her features to examine for any blemishes, Pushing back any stray strands of hair from her face and pulling them behind her ear. Staring deep into the clear colour of her cardinal rose eyes she assessed their problems, And she found none.

When times like these came about [F/N] often pondered about why people didn't like her more. She was beautiful, Stunning, Exotic even to the disgusting drunk men that passed her by on the moonlit walks.

So why even if some drunkards could see her beauty why couldn't the locals and her own family see that too instead of the cursed child from a close-to-god family?

It couldn't be her attitude, That was just a by-product of their own treatment toward her. So why? She was born this way, She couldn't change how she looked, She should of been adored.

Yet all the locals, All of her beloved family, All of the suitors that her parents had tried to ship her off to had only a single look at her before rejecting her whole.

One day, She promised herself. One day she'd get back at them, She didn't know how or when or even if she could but she knew that one day, They would regret treating her like a bug under their foot.

As her mind wandered she started to realise that maybe it wasn't the room that was empty.

A sudden knock echoed out, Crashing [F/N]'s train of thought.

[F/N] jerked her head over to the main door of her room. Getting up from the small pillow she sat on she moved quietly to the entrance. Turning the knob and opening the door she was met face to face with one of her families servants.

"Your mother has requested me to bring you your dinner" The servant said, Robotic and monotone in voice as he presented her a bowl of udon. [F/N] paused at the sight of it.

"..It's not Sukiyaki stew pot.." She mumbled.

"Correct, Ma'am" He replied in short.

[F/N] was silent as she carefully took the small bowl from his hands, She barely noticed the small bow and the closing of the door before it was entirely shut.

[F/N] examined the soggy noodles and small tempura bits in the bowl, A barely generous helping.

She 'tched at the sight but figured she was lucky enough to even get dinner in the first place.

Turning around she walked over to the other set of double doors at the end of the room, Food in one hand she pushed the door open to reveal the small balcony outside. Stepping out into the night's cool air she took a deep breath in.

The laughter was no longer audible once she shut the door, Only replaced by the sound of cicada hums and the clacking of tiles when she clambered up onto the slanted roof of the house.

[F/N] sat down on the tiles and looked out onto the sea of village houses down below, The faint lantern light from the village was warm and inviting in contrast to the inhabitants, Of whom were out doing their nightly patrol's in watch for another mutilation.

However the scene didn't interest her in the slightest, Instead it was the moon which seemed to hang over her entire world.

It glowed brighter than any lantern the village people could spark, Yet the light was never overwhelming or stung her eyes in the slightest. Instead the soft rays of moonlight had only provided comfort.

[F/N] didn't know why it brought such solace, Maybe its because it never burnt her skin like the sun did. The moon replaced it in that way, The night time became her daytime, When she felt most lively: Herself.

She often came up onto the roof to feel that way, Every time without missing a single night she'd climb up onto the roof and speak to the moon for hours like it was an old friend. Or maybe just to stare and admire the pale light of its beauty.

But to be fair, [F/N] never felt much at all.

When she did it was always a constant state of annoyance, Anger or resentment. The feeling the moon brought her was still very unfamiliar to her, But very much welcome. She barely understood anything other than the undying resentment, Maybe it was a sad existence but to be fair she barely understood sadness either.

She realised the udon in her hands was growing cold. Reaching behind her for the pair of chopsticks she noticed something else a little further ahead from them, Lying on the roof.

She raised an eyebrow and squinted her eyes to examine it closer, But they instantly shot out once she realised what it was.

It was a single bouquet of flowers, Red, Beautiful roses sprung from the carefully arranged bunch.

[F/N]'s breath hitched in her throat, Her whole body seemed to clench up at even a small sight of it. A bouquet of roses? Who could of left those here? They couldn't be for her, Could they?

She set down her bowl of udon carefully beside her, Eyeing the bouquet like it was bound to attack her yet it didn't stop her quick crawl over to its side.

Nor did it stop the almost desperate grab she made for the neck of the bunch, Pulling it close to her chest she finally noticed the small tag sticking out from the flowers reading: To [F/N] Shiratori.

She felt the concentrated joy explode inside her like bottle rockets, The absolute euphoria flooded her senses as she felt hot blood rise to her cheeks, Giving colour to them yet said no pain.

The roses were absolutely beautiful, Carefully handpicked as the petals seemed soft and fresh. She grinned wildly, They must of took great thought while preparing it.

She couldn't help but shove her face into the roses to inhale their scent, The sweet yet rich aroma circled in her mind. They truly were the best of the bunch.

But when she pulled away she noticed she had neglected a small envelope from where the bouquet was sitting before, Hiding the envelope below it.

Her lips quirked. First the roses, Now a letter? She giggled slightly, Imagining whoever it was is a real romantic.

Extracting the envelope and gently opening it's folds she pulled the paper from its cover and unfolded it to view the contents.

Dear, [F/N]. My one and only.

Ever since I saw you on this rooftop, I knew you were the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. I hope one day we will get to meet, One day in the near future.

Love, Your admirer.

It was such a simple letter, Only two simple sentences of sweet but common flatter words yet once she had finished the final word the fireworks of a foreign emotion burst inside her.

She knew it was something akin to euphoria, An exhilaration that made her blood rush to her cheeks and heat up her entire system in the cold nights air, Yet no matter how hard she tried she couldn't identify the rhapsody of song inside her.

Though she couldn't deny, It felt good. Better than she's ever felt in a very long time.

[F/N] embraced the letter with her whole body, Curling up around it to try and squeeze out more of the intoxicating feel, An addictive high.

The letter and bouquet, Whoever may have left it there, Wherever they may be, They must really really like her.

☆♡☆

The yelling of her family woke [F/N] from her peaceful slumber.

Her heavy eyelids were wrenched open as she writhed around atop the roof tiles, Bothered by the loud intrusion.

Once she finally let the light hit her pupils she realised her mistake. She was in the light, The sunlight was touching her skin.

[F/N] yelled out and instantly scuffled down off the roof, Swinging open the door she almost lunged into the safety of her house shade as she fell onto the floorboards.

Her skin burned and tinged lightly. Examining her skin she found the beginnings of a mild sunburn on her arms, The red welts fizzling up into her hands all the way to her forearms. Her light kimono doing nothing to shield her from the UV rays.

She had fallen asleep on the roof and had neglected the danger of doing so, In her panic [F/N] chided herself for her stupid mistake.

Yet outside it seemed like it was just the break of dawn, The orange to yellow hues painting the sky signalled the early hours of the morning. She was lucky that the noise woke her up in time, Otherwise her problem would be much worse.

Scrambling over to her vanity mirror to examine the full entirety of her body she gasped on sight as soon as she saw her reflection in the polished glass. Her face.

At least a good third of face was covered in red hot boils and welts, The sore burn crept up from her left cheek over to her chin, Reaching as far as her right side too.

"No.. No, No, No.. Please, No!" She yelled, [F/N]'s eyes almost popped out of her sockets with tears starting to form at the corners. She trailed her equally burnt hands across the scorch marks in disbelief at what she was seeing.

A sudden rapid pounding at her door knocked her out of her stupor.

"[F/N]! Open the door, Now!" It was her mother's voice. The alarm in her voice seemed to resonate in [F/N] to give her a grasp of their unknown situation.

"Jeez.. Hold on!" [F/N] called out towards her door, Yet she saw the handle start to turn. A spike in her adrenaline shot up.

"I'm getting dressed, Damn it!" [F/N] screamed, Her voice as hoarse as a fourty-year chain-smoker. The turning of the knob stopped as soon as she let the words leave her mouth.

"Fine, But make it quick! And make sure to put on something nice." Her mother yelled back at her, A small tint of exasperation lacing her tone yet her footsteps leaving down the hallway sounded determined in their path.

[F/N] cursed. Bullets of sweat rolled down her face and stung the burns where they lay. She had no idea what she was going to do. Rapidly sliding out drawers in her vanity to find anything of use, To no avail.

Next she went to her closet. Swinging the old wooden doors open she shifted through her different coloured kimonos. Pulling through the silk and cotton she found nothing of use except for a thickly woven navy kimono that was oversized and could cover her body nice and neatly.

Despite that there was still the issue of her face, The burn marks were so noticeable you could see them from miles away. There was nothing that could hide her scorches from the sun-

Her hand bumped up against something.

[F/N]'s temple furrowed. Reaching into the back of dark, Spacious cupboard she gripped onto the object she felt was made of straw.

With a tug and a pull she managed to haul out the hefty object, Revealing it to be her old uchikatsugi.

It was a gift from the town's doctor before he passed away from old age a few years ago, [F/N] remembered him fondly even though he was never really around.

He still did greet her with a smile and a handshake every time they met, It wouldn't be wrong to describe him as a father figure either.

Though as always, Good things didn't last. They never did.

[F/N] had no time to dwell on that last thought, Her relief was a much more appealing distraction.

The uchikatsugi, A large straw hat for noblewomen with a large silky veil to cover her face. Back when she got it, It was way too big for her to use with her small body so she stored it in her closet for a later use, [F/N] supposed she just forgot about it.

She sat the large hat down on her head, And with a little shimmying to get it properly down it fit her head like a glove to a hand.

Once she finished changing into her dark cerulean kimono, She was ready to go downstairs and see whatever it was her family was making such a ruckus about.

As she took careful strides down the creaky steps of the stairs she saw her mother impatiently tapping her foot at the bottom. [F/N], Before making herself known, Fixed up her appearance to make sure nothing was showing free.

Once she was pleased, [F/N] cleared her throat to which her mother jerked her head around to her 'daughters' direction.

"Ah, Finally. I was wondering what took you so long." Her mother remarked, Letting her folded arms drop to her sides. [F/N] huffed at the passive aggressive tone yet felt alleviation, Her clothes worked, Her mother couldn't see a thing.

"Had to find a good enough outfit for such an important event, At least from the sounds of it. Why am I up this early anyways?" [F/N] yawned, Still not quite tuned in despite her earlier shock.

"There was another one." Her mother responded quickly, Turning away.

"Another what?" [F/N] queried, Tad annoyed at her mothers elusive behaviour.

"Another mutilation, [F/N]." Her mother exasperated, Swiftly turning back to look at her with an expression that just oozed the word obviously.

[F/N] stopped, Mulling over the information.

"Alright, Okay that's bad but why does this concern me?" She asked after a moment.

Her mother shook her head to her daughters persistence.

"This is a village matter, [F/N]. Something we are apart of" Her mother explained, Treating [F/N] like a curious toddler repeatedly asking why.

"Unfortunately.." [F/N] muttered.

"Just get a move on downstairs now, Swiftly now.." Her mother said, Quickly pulling [F/N]'s shoulder and hushing her down the second set of stairs. [F/N] shrugged of her mothers firm hand, Telling her she'll go down herself.

Settling her hat comfortably onto her head she headed downstairs, Dreading future events.

☆♡☆

The early morning air was cold and fresh as it weaved through the tall houses of the village.

Usually in the mornings with the first break of dawn you could hear the chirping of the crows harking in the early crowds off to work. You could see the townsfolk head to the markets and children run about in the streets, Laughing and roughhousing with each other like siblings together.

But today was different.

The echo of crows on the village walls were silent now. The children who use to run about in the streets buck wild were now pulled close to their parents, A worried smile replacing their usual carefree faces.

[F/N] stood away back from the large crowd gathered in the centre of the village, Everyone from the village was here. The elders, The working class to the babies were summoned together in the village, All quietly chattering amongst themselves.

She observed the crowd in distain, What mundane people leading such plain lives. They They wasted their lives in the sun, Taking the warmth for granted working nine to fives and coming home to their stupid little families, Accomplishing nothing big in their lives yet they boasted of grandeur while she stood standing away from them, Suffering from the pain of her sunburn.

She huffed at the thought.

[F/N] didn't stand with her family, She only watched them as they made their way to the front of the front of the crowd of which immediately quieted down at the sight of them

[F/N]'s father was considered the head of the village and therefore took care of all the important matters.

However since he was absent it was up to her mother to take care of her husbands duties while he was away

"Hello everybody, It's good to see you all out here today." Her mother called out her opening statement. She was backed by the other four of her siblings, Juro standing especially besides her.

Despite her hello's, Nobody answered her.

"I suppose you all know why you were called here, Regarding the death of the Hagihara family." Her mother continued.

Hagihara, That rang a bell in [F/N]'s mind.

Her eyes widened in recognition, The neurons connecting in her mind as the face of the little girl she had hit with a rock entered into her head.

"If you're not already aware of what happened, Early in the morning screams were heard from their family home. On investigation they were found.. Killed inside their Livingroom.. No survivors" Her mother announced.

A few shocked gasps ran from the crowd, The chatter from before sparked up like a lighter on the fuel of information. However their talking was calmed by her mother rather loudly clearing her throat.

"Yes, Yes. I understand this is horrible information, And I know a good lot of you were close with the family and I do offer my sincerest apologies." Her mother said. Her voice filled with a genuine sympathy, Showing it by giving a few select nods towards some of the crowd.

[F/N] didn't listen to her mother however, The information was still fresh in her mind.

This information should have left a lack of feeling in [F/N]'s chest, And regarding the deaths it did.

But the coincidence of it felt like a static shock to a dead heart. First it was the Furukawa's, They were particularly nasty to [F/N]. When they fell victims to the night veiled attacks she had felt glad despite how morbid it was, They weren't there to harass her anymore.

However now it was the Hagihara's, Only yesterday did they get negatively involved with her after the rock incident and now they were dead.

No. No, It was just a coincidence.

Even though they did hold hatred against her so did all of the other villagers. If the mutilations were connected to her then the mutilations would be targeted towards more outspoken villagers, Even if it was because of the rock incident other villagers would of been targeted before her. Her family would be targeted before them.

Even so, She needed to make sure.

[F/N] was barely listening when she quickly took off away from the crowd down an alleyway. Slipping away from the group with ease as their attention was still heavily focused onto her mother, Who was still continuing on with her speech. She couldn't bare to be surrounded by such waste of flesh anymore.

She picked up pace once she realised she was far enough away, Managing to navigated the rock base of the village with proficiency and quickly coming to a stop once she stood in front of the targeted house. Luckily it was located on the other side of the village, She could make as much noise as she needed.

Once she finally stopped she could notice the broken down door almost instantly. The village houses were regularly built together so this was striking to her. The shoji door was splintered into pieces of wood and sheet, Tiny pieces.

[F/N] swallowed a lump in her throat, Realising the weight of what she was doing. But it didn't stop her from taking strides forward, Past the destroyed bits of door and into the house where she saw the real carnage.

The Livingroom was absolutely destroyed.

Walls were shook and large scratch marks decorated them like paintings. Furniture was flung about and lay toppled across the entire main room like a wild beast was let loose, A bear, A rhino. Something of that size could of done this, Yet she could tell it was entirely human design.

The room was completely in the dark, No sunlight shown through which let [F/N] take her uchikatsugi off to get a better look.

Despite all of the wreckage its the fact that the room was coloured head to toe in red, That is what sent a feeling of dread crawl up [F/N]'s back.

The blood was stained on table cloths, Floors, Wooden walls. Anything that could be stained was drenched in the now-dry ichor of red. Thankfully the bodies weren't here anymore, Most likely hauled off to get cremated.

The singe of the scent of blood itched at the tip of [F/N]'s nose as she took a few more cautious steps inside, Carefully avoiding the debris as she finally made her way into the centre of the Livingroom.

The whole place just radiated fear and destruction, So much so that it felt like a cold hand was resting on her shoulder when she looked out at the scene.

Her eyes shot up.

She jerked her whole body around and stumbled back like a shock to her system, She lost her balance and fell backwards.

"Careful there." The smooth voice belonged to a man, Who caught her once she fell backwards.

His strength was commendable as he only laid a single hand on her back to keep her supported.

[F/N] was breathing heavily, Loud gasps of air from the sheer fright the man gave her. He gently lifted her up to her feet, Making sure to steady her.

"I apologise if I gave you a fright there, I do have a habit of being a quiet walker" He explained with a courteous smile.

"Yeah.. You do.." That was all [F/N] could say, Her breath still taken away but not from the fall as she laid her eyes on the mans face.

The man was pale, Deathly pale. While [F/N] was as white as a sheet from her condition it looked like he was sickly and withering, Yet the look seemed to compliment his bone structure. His dark wavy locks shaped his face and came down to his sharp jawline, Perfectly brushed and trimmed.

However it was his eyes that struck [F/N] the most, The same ruby irises that she had harboured stared right back at her. Even through the darkness of the room she could see the vividness of the red through the suffocating black.

"..Are you alright?" He asked. [F/N] didn't even realise she was staring before he snapped her out of it.

"Yes, Yes. I'm fine, Thank you." She said, A hint of practiced resentment laced her voice. A built-up tactic to protect herself. But the suspicion was warrented however, The clean cut black suit vest with golden coloured lacing was clue enough to tell her he wasn't from here.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, Resting her hands onto her hips. Her eyes were locked onto his own, Searching for any sign of deception.

The man simply let out a breath of air.

"I'm here to this village on business reasons, I was just passing through when I saw the door broken down. I'm just here to make sure everything is alright." He explained, A light carefree tone in his voice.

"My name is Tsukihiko, I travelled here from Tokyo" Tsukihiko added after a moment.

[F/N] carefully examined his body language for any sign of him lying, Any twitch of the hand or quirk of the lips but she came up empty handed. She had no reason not to believe him.

"Okay then, Tsukihiko.." She drawled, Still cautious of him "Well since you obviously don't know, There's been a string of murders going on in this village for a long while now. You really shouldn't be in here" She said.

"May I ask why you are here then? No offense, But you don't look like an investigator or any kind of authority, Miss." Tsukihiko said yet his tone sounded near playful if it wasn't for his dignified self.

[F/N] felt her tensed shoulders deflate, He got her there.

"..None of your business" She retorted, But her previous aversion had dissolved into a weak huff. "What's an investigator suppose to look like anyways?" [F/N] mused.

"Usually not like a beautiful noblewoman such as yourself, The one's I've seen tend to be a bit more.. Lacking in that department" Tsukihiko replied, As if what he said held absolutely no weight at all.

But that wasn't true to [F/N], The words held so much weight that it squeezed down at her heart. That same, Unfamiliar euphoric feeling she felt holding the flowers kept rushing out of the compressed heart and filling her system once again.

Did he really see her beauty? Or was it a way to strengthen out a deal with a noble family's daughter? If so then the joke would be on him. But he wasn't that far off from her, They were both pale and shared the same wine-stained eyes. Maybe he did understand her beauty. The mere thought of it seemed to clench her heart tighter.

However, It was stopped by a single missed heartbeat.

The sunburn, She still had the sunburn on her skin. Her uchikatsugi still lain slack in her left hand. [F/N] felt her hands suddenly grow clammy and her lungs take in a sharp breath, A quick spike in adrenaline made her entire body freeze up.

Tsukihiko seemed to notice her realisation, Somehow understanding her sudden panic he gently rested a hand onto the girls cheek.

"I mean my words, I'm not quite fond of the sun either." Tsukihiko said, That deep voice ringing soft in the girls ear.

The hand on her cheek should of been warm, But instead of the expected body heat coming from him there was a cold chill that ran down her from his touch.

It felt nice on her sunburn, It seemed to cool down the itchy feel of heat simmering in her skin and instead made it feel like a early summer breeze. [F/N] in response seemed to soften down and lean into the cold, Only a little bit.

"Seriously? People here seem to enjoy the sun a lot, You disliking it would be a first" [F/N] mumbled absentmindedly, Her gaze trailing off to some unknown point of the room. "How'd you know I didn't like the sun anyways?"

"A good guess, I suppose. You have albinism, Correct? It's only natural to have a resentment towards the sun when it sears your skin, I have a particularly terrible condition myself so I suppose I can empathise" Tsukihiko explained.

His words brought [F/N]'s eyes back to his own, Their shared eyes meeting together. Ones searching for any kind of lie while the others looked back with only the sincerest of truth's, At least from what [F/N] could tell anyways.

She felt a sudden sense of an unrecognisable feeling.

Not like the one she had before when it felt like fireworks, But instead one that felt like a rope was tied between the two. Like a single string had suddenly appeared just from his words, A sudden connection.

Connection? That sounded right, At least she thought so.

"..I see. You don't seem to have albinism, So what's your condition anyways?" [F/N] queried. While the man was pale and had the same red eyes she had, It couldn't of been albinism. His hair was a natural noir and his skin still held a very tiny bit of melanin.

[F/N] saw his lips quirk, It wasn't noticeable, Only a quick twitch before they were back to their usual smile. It almost raised an eyebrow.

"..It's not a specific illness that has been diagnosed however the symptoms do include a rather harsh weakness to sunlight." He said.

Thats strange, [F/N] thought. Tsukihiko was only wearing a suit vest, Black dress slacks and a clean white blouse. He had no form of sun protection like [F/N]'s kimono or uchikatsugi. It was weird, And [F/N] wasn't going to let it go for a second.

"Really? Then how did you get here without something like a parasol, Or any kind of protection?" She asked, Her guard raised up once again in light of the new information.

Tsukihiko's guard followed with [F/N]'s. His shoulders stiffened up and the smile on his face seemed just a tad bit more strained than it did before.

"Well luckily due to-"

"[F/N]!" A sudden scream cut through the start of his words. [F/N] gasped, She recognised the voice of which belonged to her mother.

She cursed under her breath and rushed past the man, Her attention fully diverted from him as she set the uchikatsugi onto her head and went out of the house and into the sun.

[F/N] finally stumbled out onto the rocky street road, Only to see her mother at the end of the road angrily making her way towards her. [F/N] sucked air through her teeth, She was in trouble.

She saw Juro stand behind her, Watching their mother make their way towards [F/N] with the omnipresent smugness drenching his face.

"Told you she was here!" He called out to his mother, But she didn't look back, She was way too focused on her eldest who stood there frozen like a frightened opossum.

The heavy sounds of her mothers sandals against rock and the single strum of a biwa echoed out into the wide walls of the village. Luckily no one else was around, Probably still making their way here from being dispersed only earlier from the town meeting.

"What the hell do you think your doing, Young woman?!" Her mother yelled. Finally closing the distance between the two her mothers hand lunged for her daughters wrist, Yanking her close to her [F/N] let out a curse under her breath.

"What? Can't I check out the crime scene?" [F/N] remarked with a practiced incredulous tone. Ignorant curiosity, It wasn't the reason she came here for but her mother didn't need to know that.

Her mother looked back at her, Incredulous, Just like [F/N]'s voice. However it was mixed with contorted expression of how one might look at spoiled food, Maggots and rodents already festering and all.

"..Do you even listen to what comes out of your mouth? At any point in your life do you even think about what you're about to do?" Her mother said, Only a single pitch away from a whisper.

"Either way it wasn't why I was here, I was talking to that man over there." [F/N] said, Lazily motioning her head under the hat towards the entrance of the house. Her mother quickly strode away from her daughter, But made the move to grab her wrist and drag her along as she went towards the entrance of the house.

"Hey! Hands off me-" [F/N] yelled. Despite her mothers old bones it seemed the sheer anger made her completely apathetic to her age.

"What man? There's no one there." Her mother hissed. Pushing her daughter in front of her to get a better look at the house.

It was true. Apart from the dried carnage and the destroyed insides of the Livingroom there was no sign of life inside. No noise nor presence to be found.

[F/N] felt her heart stop inside her chest, Her breath stifled. That was impossible, The only entrance inside the house was the main door. If he had left through the main door then there would of been no doubt that he would of been spotted.

"Good gods, [F/N].." Her mother groaned, Massaging her temple to soothe her irritation.

"He was here! I swear, I don't know wher-"

"Oh just be quiet, [F/N]!" Her mother exclaimed.

Turning to face her daughter she jumped back in surprise, The look on her mothers worn face was tired and so very angry.

"I'm so done with just letting you run about and do as you please, Someone needs to give you discipline to show you how things work around here" Her mother said lowly.

Yanking [F/N] forward they took off away from the scene. [F/N] couldn't keep up with her fast pace and stumbled around as she was pulled along in her mothers grip.

They passed Juro who didn't even turn his head towards her families squabble, Only side-eyeing [F/N] as they passed.

Juro, That bastard, An Ironic insult but it was the best she could mouth at him as she was dragged by. He was the one who had alerted his mother to her absence, He had to be. Mother wouldn't care if she had wandered off, Juro on the other hand would pick out any opportunity he could to ruin her day.

As she was dragged back to their family home she cursed him out under her breath. [F/N] would've wondered why he was like this to her, But she knew that there was never a reason apart from stigma with a streak of sadism and superiority.

She'd get back at him one day. That, She swore.

☆♡☆

Loud footsteps slammed against the wooden floorboards of the house making louds creaks in their wake.

Opening and slamming the door it shook the frame of her room with the sheer force at which it hit.

As soon as it shut [F/N] pushed herself up against the door and let out a loud cry. The tears she was holding back with a fierce determination now flooded down her face without a hint of resistance.

She slowly slid down the door until it was only her, Sitting on the cold floorboards pressed up against the door, Sobbing her eyes out.

[F/N] didn't know why she was crying, Maybe it was just the broken dam of a slowly rising tide. The house of cards that finally toppled once the slightest of disruptions knocked over its foundation, Causing the entire building to fall down.

What she did know however, Is the words of which her mother had told her.

"Punishment!" "Deserve!" "Finally!"

The words her mother had used when she confiscated her parasols and uchikatsugi swarmed her like a hive of insects. The one thing that protected her from the sun, That let her feel like a normal person even if only for a single minute was taken away by her mother.

She had called it a deserving punishment, Finally giving her daughter the discipline she needed.

What would she even achieve from taking them away? To teach her a lesson, Perhaps. Maybe she had thought it would exorcise the demon that was disguised as her daughter. Even if she did think that before, After seeing the sunburn ingrained onto her skin gave her a good reminder alright.

[F/N]'s breath came out in hitches. Rapid gasps for breaths as she desperately tried to wipe away the unforgiving tears coming out of her eyes. Everyone kept asking what was wrong with her when the only thing she could ask was what was wrong with them.

She didn't choose to be like this. She didn't choose the red bloodshot eyes nor did she choose the bright white of her hair and skin, It didn't mean she was a demon. What was wrong with this world? What did she do to deserve this?

[F/N] lifted her head to wipe away the build up of fluid on her face when she caught the vivid red in the corner of her eye.

It made her breath hitch once more, But not from the pain in her lungs or the sting in her eyes.

[F/N] didn't even bother getting up, Instead favouring to hastily crawl over to her bed. Once she lifted her upper body to see what it was her eyes widened.

It was another bouquet, Just as beautiful as the last. The red petals of rose were fresh and smelt as such, Purifying the air around her and drawing her in with the sweet scent. The colour of the roses seemed to give a hot kick compared to the coldness of her abode.

It was that feeling again. Fireworks. The feeling that brought the warmth back to her, The one she could never describe.

[F/N] took the bouquet into her arms, The softness of both the petals and the trimmed stems caressed her bare skin.

Her lips twitched. The corners of her mouth turning themselves into a new smile, Feeling foreign on her face. There was no letter this time, However that didn't matter.

The bouquet said everything it needed to. She pulled it close as the last of her tears dried, Turning only into small sniffles now and then.

Maybe things weren't so awful after all.

☆♡☆

In the following months, Slowly, A routine started to form.

[F/N] wasn't allowed to go outside of her house, So she had to make do with what she had inside her room.

In the mornings she'd wake up, Make her bed and get ready for the day. Afterwards she would go downstairs to collect her breakfast and make her way back to her room.

Then in the afternoons she'd make herself busy by playing solo games of old sets in her room: Shogi, Menko or Origami, Anything to keep her occupied and keep the boredom at bay.

[F/N] knew if she just apologised and promised to her mother she'd be good she could definetly worm her way out of punishment, However she decided against it. Her pride and dignity was worth baring a stupid little punishment from her mother.

At night she would get her dinner from the kitchens and make her way up to the rooftops again, Speaking to the moon as her only social output as long as you don't count the snide comments from Juro or the single syllable answers from her mother.

For hours she'd just spout out about whatever came to mind. Her day, Frustrations and desires would all be entrusted to the celestial body, A silent promise not to tell between the two.

[F/N] thought it was funny, She'd started to believe the moon could really hear her. It felt like that too sometimes, That someone was really there to listen to her.

And finally, Careful not to make her mistake again she'd close the blinds and make her way to bed. Only to start the cycle all over again the next day.

Though sometimes the cycle would break, Sometimes she would find another bouquet. Lying on the roof or sat tidy on her bed.

Sometimes the person in question would leave a letter too. The sweet words seeming sacred as the flow of the writing went through her, Touching the very core of her heart.

She'd soak up every letter, Every little word she'd mull over for hours at a time letting that feeling coarse through her blood stream. These letters appeared about once a week, Quickly becoming the only thing she had to look forward to.

It was good, It was very good. It hit her one day, Lying in bed while rereading the latest letter for the fifth time.

Was this love?

Maybe. Before the letter had started she had dismissed the concept of it entirely, Love was just a façade. A husband and wife was suppose to love each other yet her mother and father barely spoke when they were around.

A sibling was suppose to love their other siblings unconditionally, But instead hers had shunned her and at best gave backhanded remarks. Sure, Her mother might of loved her kids but even then it was just maternal instinct.

Love was just a construct, That was her belief. It was a way to explain how things worked in a mysterious world, It didn't actually exist. No, It couldn't. At least not for her.

But when she held the soft paper in her hands and finished the last letter of the note it finally clicked, This was love. It had to be.

The undying passion written in the letters proved it, The vowing to love her always said it. It made her blush like an alcoholic intoxicated onto the feeling it gave her.

It was so addicting that she never really took care into asking herself how they got into her room or onto her roof, How they knew exactly what she liked or how she wanted it. That wasn't important.

What was important was who it was. Was it a girl or a boy? How old are they? What do they look like? What's their name? She pondered over this often and to be honest, She couldn't care less about who it was. They loved her, That's all that mattered. It was the spark of light in a dark hopeless void.

Even the rocks thrown through her balcony window, Scribbled in ink with the word "demon" couldn't take her out of her high. Nor the continuing mutilations building up a body count in town could catch her now.

Nowadays the entire family was counting down for the arrival of her father. His business trip had came to an end and now he was making his way home, Due to arrive in a week.

In a weeks time her father would be home, She dreaded the thought. So that's why she had carefully wrote a letter of her own and left it on the rooftop, A common spot for the person in question to leave their letters.

She wrote every letter with passion and folded the envelope with care, Waiting for the response she had went back to bed, Waiting for her admirer to take her away.

"When can I see you? I want to know who you are."

☆♡☆

Her letter had been answered.

The letter she had left on the roof was replaced with a letter of their own. The next day she had found it lying in the same spot, Bouquet of roses and all.

She read the words several times over, Just to make sure she was reading things right.

Midnight, Meet me outside on the pathway to the village. I'll be waiting.

Love, Your admirer.

They wanted to meet her, Her admirer wanted to meet her tonight. As soon as she read the last word she squealed like a little girl on her birthday and spun herself around the room with exhilarant joy.

She stopped dead in her tracks. She needed to get ready. Looking down at her morning kimono she realised she needed to wear her best, She couldn't go out looking like this.

The feeling of wanting to look your best while in front of someone was another new sensation, She'd been having a lot of new sensations lately. All because of her admirer. It was only right to look as good as she could.

She thought back to her experience a few months ago, That man, Tsukihiko. Maybe he was her admirer. The way he looked at her with those matching red eyes just spoke to her, It had to be him. Who else could it be?

Sifting through her closet she finally picked out a rather expensive kimono with a matching yukata. The design's laced onto the fabric were beautiful and made with care, When [F/N] looked at it she knew she had found the perfect one.

But looking in the mirror she knew her hair needed some touching up, Her makeup too.. And her nails and maybe she could find a cute hairpin? Maybe her hair needs touching up again..

By the time she was done it the sun had long set, Replacing the clear blue with a star filled winter night.

[F/N] knew she wasn't allowed out of the house, She knew when she carefully maneuvered her way down the rooftop. It never left her mind even soon as she felt her best sandals hit the ground, But nor did it ever matter to her. She was going to meet her admirer, That was much more important than her mother.

[F/N] moved hastily down the pathway from her house to the village, The letter never specified where about on the pathway they were to meet so she had just decided to walk until something happened.

She slowed down in her tracks to only a leisurely walk. The cold air hit the back of her neck and ran through her hair as she went. [F/N] felt her heart beating like a drum, The rhythm thumping at her ribcage felt like it was going to explode from her chest.

Her leisured stroll came to a stop, By now she could see the village lights and the rest of the stone-lined path. Her eyes followed it all the way back to where she was standing, No one was there. Not Tsukihiko, Not anyone.

[F/N]'s face scrunched up in confusion, She had went the entire pathway and no one was to be found. Could she be late? Looking up at the sky to see the moon dead-centre in the sky that ruled out the possibility entirely.

Then suddenly, She felt a rock hit her back.

The force pushed her over, Collapsing to the ground on her knee's.

The shock struck her like an ice-pick to the back, Causing a cold chill to wash over her. As soon as it hit her thoughts had came to a standstill, Trying to compute what just happened.

A few pairs of footsteps came running out from behind her.

[F/N] looked behind her, Eyes bloodshot and open to their limits as she finally spied the group.

"There! Told you she'd come." Juro laughed to the group of kids behind him, His friends, All carrying pouches of unknown fillings. They all looked down at [F/N], Their expressions all smiling wide and giggling along quietly to Juro.

Another feeling washed over, Anger only an aftertaste to the pain writhing around in her chest. Her arms shook as she tried to gather her Barings, However another quick jolt of pain went to her stomach. One of his friends who she recognised as the Furukawa boy had kicked her, Making her fall down again.

"Demon scum!" He exclaimed as he stepped back towards the group. [F/N] groaned in pain as she wiped away the red specks coming from her mouth.

"What.. What the fuck. The hell.. Are you doing here, Juro" [F/N] hissed, The truth of the situation going straight over her head.

"What? You don't remember? Meet me here at midnight on the pathway to the village!" He teased, The mocking tone in his voice made his group laugh. Juro looked at her straight in the eyes, The sadism shining through the dull overlay.

[F/N] stopped, Going completely still.

No, It couldn't be. Please, For the love of whatever god is up there. It can't be.

"You.. It was you?" She breathed lowly, Disbelieving eyes piercing into his. Pleading with him silently, Subconciously. Juro seemed to toss his head to the side and took a few lazy steps towards her, He had no care in the world as he stood only a foot away from his defeated sister.

"Of course it was me. I knew all about your little rooftop talks, I was the one to leave the bouquets in the first place." He announced it as if it was obvious all along, As if it was nothing but a throwaway joke in a play.

[F/N] felt her heart break.

She felt the culmination of that feeling built up over months, The growing flutter of her heart. The feeling she had even dared to consider love was shattered into a million pieces, Reduced to nothing but ashes.

This wasn't true, How could it be? It couldn't.. [F/N] felt her vision start to go blurry. She opened her dry mouth, She only had one question to ask.

"So.. For months.. You left me flowers.. Letters. All so you could bring me out here..?" She whispered. The blurryness in her eyes gathered and dripped down her face, Cold against her burning face.

"Well I mean, Not at first. In the beginning it was just a way to mess with you, It was funny for me but then.." Juro motioned over to his friends "When I told my friends about it we thought it was an opportunity we couldn't lose, Especially when you left a letter of your own." He finished.

The words devastated [F/N]. The entire world around her seemed so desolate, Like she drowning under the weight of the entire ocean unable to breathe or speak.

She didn't even flinch when Juro and his group raised their hands, The pouches full of unknown contents brought high. And when they threw it, She was glad that her tears blurred their faces.

She curled up into a ball and wished for this nightmare to be over.

☆♡☆

The dragging of slow footsteps echoed lowly in the dark hallway. The passage was dark and near lifeless as most of the house was asleep at this point, Only a few servants lay awake finishing their nightly duties.

[F/N]'s feet barely left the ground as she clutched the hot cup of tea in her hands. In the days that passed it was the only thing she subsided on except from the small bites of food she would eat during the day.

Her eyes seemed low and sunken, Like they were struggling to stay open. Along with her matted hair and chapped lips she appeared dishevelled similar to how an insomniac running on coffee would be, Though at this point that was basically what she became.

Gently pulling open the door to her bedroom [F/N] took a few short steps inside. Once she closed the door she was greeted once again by the emptiness of her room.

She let out a defeated sigh. Trotting over to her bed she set her tea down on the side table, Right before collapsing right onto the bed.

She sunk down into the mattress, Letting the temporary warmth and shelter of the blankets envelop her.

[F/N] was tired, Very tired. Right then and there she wanted to close her eyes and not wake up, Not for a long time. But she knew that no matter how hard she tried she wouldn't be able to sleep, Not as long as her mind was as conflicted as hers.

She turned over onto her back so she could stare up at the ceiling. Before all of this had happened she felt angry or annoyed, Always, There was no in-between. Maybe a splash of surprise here and there but apart from that there was no flux.

After she read the letters her palette had expanded, It felt like she was tasting a new wild variety of flavours for the first time after only eating bread for her entire life. She felt euphoric, She felt love and infatuation. It was good, It was so good.

But now after being hazed with flour and hit with rocks, Humiliated and embarrassed by Juro and his gang she just felt.. Nothing.

She wasn't angry nor was she annoyed, She's tried to feel those things, She tried to feel some sort of rage towards him but after everything she just couldn't.

Juro had even left an extra bouquet for when she got back that night, This one not of roses but instead spider lilies.

The only thing she could do was toss them out from the balcony, The flowers taking all of her anger with it.

[F/N] turned her head over to her balcony. The blinds were shut over the doors yet there was a small opening, A little crack that let moonlight filter through into the room. She could see the moon facing her through the opening, Gathering up what she had left she opened her mouth.

"Is this it..? Is this all there will ever be to my life..?" She whispered, Looking at the moon as her only friend.

She waited. She waited a good few minutes, Waiting for any kind of response from her oldest companion.

Yet nothing came. The moon just looked down on her, Just like they did, Just like they all did.

[F/N] huffed lightly, Turning away from the moon. It was stupid. She grew up to believe that the moon was always there for her, That it would always listen to her. It was her friend.

She knew how stupid that was now. The moon wasn't her friend, It couldn't listen to her. All this time she spoke to an unfeeling object, Something that couldn't understand her or provide any comfort.

"Is this all there will ever be to my life"

Her words rang out in her head. At every turn she was dejected back down into the dirt. While the healthy ran outside to live their life she was stuck at home, Unable to get a job or a husband due to her looks.

She hated them, If she had anything else left to feel it was hatred. They lived their lives free to do anything they wanted yet they wasted it on mundane jobs, Mundane lives while she was left here to fester.

[F/N] closed her eyes. Listening to the servant outside brush the hallways, She tried to use it as white noise. Something to fa-

THUMP!

[F/N] opened her eyes slowly.

The wall to her room that was shared with the hallway suddenly let out a large thump. Coincidentally the sounds of sweeping came to an abrupt stop right before the noise.

Everything was silent now, There was no noise coming from outside nor from [F/N]. Instead she just watched the door, Waiting for the next sign of life.

Another set of footsteps came, Not belonging to the servant before. These ones were heavier, Filled with purpose and stride.

She listened as they reached her door, Coming to a sudden stop in front of it. [F/N] listened half-heartedly along, Waiting for the next sound.

It came. The slow but loud creaking of the door echoed from the walls in her room. She didn't dare to look up into the dark void of the doorway, She knew what was happening. She knew what was going to happen. This was the demon who caused the villages mutilations, There was only one outcome.

The footsteps entered the room. From [F/N]'s limited vision she could only see what looked to be a mans body dressed in a suit jacket and blouse, The left arm stained with a fresh crimson. Her eyes moved up, She couldn't see his face however, The moonlight didn't reveal it.

[F/N] sighed, Maybe out of exhaustion or maybe out of relief.

"So it's you, You're the one whose been doing the mutilations I suppose.. I'm guessing you got to the servant outside right?" She drawled, Letting the syllables play out on her tongue.

The man didn't answer, He only stopped in his tracks. [F/N] could feel his eyes on her, Running over her body, Like a wolf checking to see if the fox could fit in its maws.

[F/N] didn't expect an answer, But she continued anyways.

"You're going to kill me now, Probably even before I've finished my sentence but just.. Just let me make one final request.." A sudden jolt came from inside her like the final remains of lighter fluid sparking out into the raging blizzard.

It felt like vengeance, If she was going down then she knew who was coming with her.

"I don't care if you kill me.. But when you do I want you to take my family too. I don't care how you do it but I want you to make it bloody, I want you to make sure that my father comes home to a slaughter house, I want you to make sure people remember this." She said, The liquid in the lighter drying with her words.

She closed her eyes, Waiting on her bound demise.

This was it. Her body relaxed to take in her final moments. The warmth of the blanket, The coldness of her room, The beating of her heart.

"Who said I would kill you.."

And the feeling of a hand over hers, Gripping it tight.

Her eyes opened wide at the voice, Her irises searched and landed on the mans face now illuminated by the moonlight, It was one she recognised.

"It's you.." [F/N] breathed, She looked over the mans features, Just to make sure.

"Tsukihiko" She whispered. It was him, She saw it now. It was the same suit-jacket, The same styled hair and red eyes. A gentle smile graced his face as he moved even closer than he was currently.

"Even though I may have told you so, Tsukihiko isn't my real name." He corrected. That same deep tone of voice he used all those months ago laced his voice, Resonating deep inside her.

"My name is Muzan Kibutsuji, I am the progenitor of all demons." He declared softly. The hand he had entwined with hers squeezed tighter. His hand wasn't warm, It was in fact cold to the touch but it didn't feel uncomfortable, It was instead akin to shaved ice during a heatwave.

The progenitor of all demons, This was the demon king. It raised more questions than answers but [F/N] could only ask a single one.

"Then, why won't you kill me? Why are you telling me all of this?" She whispered, Looking deep into his eyes for the answer.

He only looked back with the most sincere emotion a being like him could have.

"Because, It seems I've become infatuated with you."

The words left his lips with a finality, As if he was just as bewildered as she was looking into his eyes.

The words pierced her like a spear. [F/N] felt eyes expand and her jaw opening only a little. It was that feeling again, That same feeling, The fireworks.

"..How can I trust your words? How do I know you're not lying to me?" She asked, A small treble in her voice. How could she trust anything he said, Not when she could never trust anything anyone said to her.

"You can't trust me." Muzan finalised, Agreeing with her words. She felt disappointment start to bubble up in her before her spoke one more.

"But when I say that I have became smitten over you from the day I saw you on that roof top, When I say that I became enraptured by your beauty and charm I want you to believe that, My love." He spoke.

[F/N] was speechless, She couldn't believe what she was hearing but by the gods did she want to. Heat rose to her cheeks and she stumbled to get out a single vowel before she was pulled to her feet by Muzan.

"Everything I've been doing these past few months I've done for you, Everything. You are more than a mere human, You're someone I can call my equal" He whispered. And from his suit pocket he pulled out something that gleamed in the moonlight.

It was a ring of silver, A wedding ring. It was beautiful. A sapphire center piece for the gemstone, Crowned by the silver and another dozen gems surrounding it.

[F/N]'s breath hitched at the sight of it.

"You want me… To marry you?" She asked, The words foreign on her tongue. [F/N] still stood in disbelief, Shock, A flurry of new emotions invading her senses that made her need to conceal an excited grin.

"Yes. I see no one else worthy of being called my wife, Only you." He replied. Gentle smile still painted on his face.

The fireworks went off. In that moment, [F/N] knew the answer, One that she couldn't put into words but instead an action.

As soon as the fireworks exploded she took a step forward, Putting her lips on his and bringing Muzan into a deep kiss. Trying her best to make it as passionate as possible with her inexperience.

Muzan didn't resist, But instead seemed to expect it. He put an arm around her waist and took lead, Guiding her along.

As it happened she felt their bodies collide, His arms were wrapped around her body tightly while hers rested on his shoulders in the heat of the moment.

[F/N] barely noticed the ring slip onto her finger, A perfect fit. She could only focus on their lips mingling with each other, His fangs clashing against her bottom lip while she tried to figure out what to do with her tongue.

Muzan's hand slipped down to her neck. A single claw cutting open both his finger and a small part of [F/N]'s neck, Letting his blood mix with hers.

The motion made [F/N] pull away from Muzan, The feeling of her stomach turning interrupting her.

"What the.." She mumbled. [F/N]'s body started to shake, She felt weird. Stumbling back a few feet she was caught by Muzan, Smiling at her with that same gentle look.

He set her down onto her bed, Caressing her cheek with care.

"Rest now, Your transformation should only take a few minutes." Muzan said, Sitting beside her on the bed.

[F/N] nodded, She knew what he meant and she simply didn't care. Only smiling lazily as she let her heart circulate his blood round her system. She felt him close her eyes. And let his blood take her over completely.

☆♡☆

[F/N] followed Muzan down the hallway. Her movements were slow yet jerky at the same time, Like her entire body was numb and barely woken up.

Her mind was hazy, Like a sudden mist started to fall over her mind as soon as she woke up. Her stomach turning had turned into a sudden emptiness, A sudden hunger. She had a craving for something, She didn't know what. However all she knew is that she had to follow Muzan as he helped her down the stairs.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs onto the second floor, Suddenly she caught something sweet in the air, Enticing her on.

Muzan noticed this, An almost amused smile appeared on his face.

"Go on then, I won't stop you." He said, And that was all she needed.

[F/N] took off following the scent almost feverishly, Making her way down the hallways going around turns she finally came across a door.

Her mouth watered. The scent was stronger now, Even more so as she bust open the door.

Juro woke up with a start, The noise of his door slamming open almost off the hinges made him flinch. He got up so he was now sitting on his bed. Maybe another mutilation happened, It was probably his mother informing him so.

But as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see his elder sister leaning against the doorway, He knew that wasn't the case.

"What the hell do you want..? You still mad about last week?" He chuckled lightly, The sleep still permeating his voice.

[F/N] stood in the doorway, Not answering. However her breathing was laboured and she stumbled about, Swaying side to side. Her head was lowered to the ground, Eyeing only the floorboards.

"What's wrong with you?" Juro raised an eyebrow at his sisters movements, It was getting annoying. Waking him up in the middle of the night and she wouldn't even tell him why.

But he suddenly froze once she lifted her head.

Her laboured breathing showed off her teeth, Sharper than normal creating new fangs protruding from her mouth. Her pupils had slimmed and turned into something similar to a cat's, And they were eyeing him like a piece of raw meat.

His sweat dropped, This wasn't normal. Slowly getting out of his bed he made sure to never take his eyes off of her, To make sure she didn't pounce.

"Listen.. [F/N]." He started, His voice shaky and carefully planned.

"I-I'm sorry for what I did.. Okay? I-I shouldn't of treated you like that.. It was wrong, I.. I'm so sorry okay?" He started. His entire form shook, His knees threatening to buckle under the weight of the situation.

She took a step forward, Making him flinch.

"I-I'm sorry! Please don-"

[F/N] lunged forward, Her body knocking into his as they fell to the floor with a thump!

Juro screamed, Loud and high pitched to make sure the rest of the house woke up as he felt [F/N]'s teeth lodge into his neck.

With a tug she pulled her mouth back. A chunk of flesh and muscle tore out from his neck, Making a spray of blood coat the room and [F/N] entirely painting her red.

Juro sobbed. His mental state reducing into that of a child's as he felt his sisters teeth tear at his flesh, Only to greedily shove the meat down her gullet, Pleased at the sweet taste she licked her lips to Juro's horror.

She tore into him, Again and again. Juro felt his limbs be pulled from their sockets and the blood burst from his arteries, Popping like candy and spraying all over the room.

He was barely conscious when the cold sweat of death wash over him.

The last thing he saw was the looming figure of his sister. His severed arm in her mouth and covered in red. Smiling at him, Wide and proud.

And the oncoming figures of the rest of his family in the doorway.

☆♡☆

Downstairs Muzan stood idly in the main room.

He waited for her, Listening intently to the noise thrashing around upstairs. He decided it was best to let [F/N] take care of it herself, She was hungry after all and as a new demon she needed her strength.

However, Muzan's attention was drawn to the main door, Which was flung open letting the cold nights air flood inside.

In the doorway was an older man. A katana around his waist and a yukata over his slayer uniform. Muzan felt the grin tug at his lips, This must of been [F/N]'s father, A slayer at that.

"..Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?!" He exclaimed, Yet his tone contained exhaustion, Obviously tired from a long travel.

"Who am I? I assumed you slayers would know a king when they saw one." Muzan remarked.

The mans eyes widened. The tiredness in his eyes before was now long gone and by now his sword was drawn, Pointing straight at Muzan.

"You.. Muzan Kibutsuji" He said. Despite his brave front, Muzan could see through it. He was terrified.

"There it is.." Muzan drawled, Now turning his full body over towards him. Her father made no move to attack him, Only keeping his sword at head level waiting for Muzan's next move.

"What.. What have you done with my wife, My children." Her father asked, The thought tearing through his mind, Scared of the possibilities.

Muzan entertained him, The fact that he had the guts to speak out in the first place spoke volumes.

But before he could answer, The sound of creaking steps and dragging thumps sounded out behind them, Interrupting their conversation.

The mans attention flipped over behind him. Alternating between Muzan and the unknown threat they both watched intently as the presence reached the bottom of the steps.

The mans eyes widened.

At the bottom of the stairs stood [F/N], Drenched head to toe in blood smelling of brass and iron.

But what she held in both hands, That's what made her father fall to his knees.

In both of her hands she dragged the mangled corpses of his wife and kids, [F/N]'s new strength granting her the capability to do so.

In her right held his wife, The corpse had several parts missing. Limbs, Flesh and organs all in various states of degradation.

In her left was the corpse of his second eldest. He wasn't even recognisable, Only the yukata being of any hint to his identity.

He fell to his knees, The sight seeming to defeat him entirely.

His nichirin katana fell out of his grasp, Slipping out with ease once he laid his hands on the corpses. [F/N] watched on at the scene, Gazing down at the broken mess of a man.

"What the.. No.. No this couldn't.." He choked out, Tears starting to form in his eyes and flow down his face. His wife and kids dead, He wasn't here to protect them, To do his duties as a demon slayer.

He moved his eyes up to the face of the culprit, Recognising her as his eldest disappointment of a daughter.

"You.. You monster.." He whispered, Piercing gaze going right through her like an icepick to the heart.

But [F/N] felt nothing as she looked at him, The haze from her mind lifted long ago at the first taste of her meal. This man for her entire life had been a overhanging figure, A threat to what would happen to her if she stepped out of line. His words were nothing new to her ears.

"..Do you have nothing else to call me, Or are you done?" [F/N] asked. She felt the rush of superiority come over her, She was the one in charge now. Not him.

Her father swallowed the lump in his throat. He had nothing else to say, Only choked sobs came out of his mouth.

[F/N] dropped the cadavers in her arms in favour of walking up to her father. Slowly stopping in front of him, Looking down at his weakened form.

Muzan stood only a few feet away from him, Watching over the events unfolding. He was amused at it, Watching [F/N]'s every move.

She raised her hand high, Her new claws spiking out of her fingernails ready to strike.

All these years of torment, Dejection and disgust funnelled towards her. The harassment and hate. Everything she had been through came down to this.

"Go on, My love." Muzan's voice called out, [F/N] glanced over to him "Finish this."

Muzan Kibutsuji, Her fiancée, Her stalker. He called out to her with that eternally caring voice, That same gentle smile edging her on to finish the deed.

She looked back at him and smiled.

And with a quick slash it was finished, Her father was no more.

His severed head dropped onto the tatami mat, She watched as it bounced a few times before rolling away.

Muzan appeared behind her, Wrapping his arms around her waist.

"You did such a good job, My love." He stated, Kissing the back of her head as he pulled her closer. [F/N] sunk into his hold, The coldness a comfort to her.

"T-Thanks.." She grinned, Fireworks continuing to go off. More so once he move a hand to her legs, Manoeuvring her so she was now being carried bridal style by her now fiancée, Not caring how much blood stained his blouse.

Muzan leaned down and left a small kiss on her lips, To which she returned.

"Are you ready to go now, My love?" Muzan asked.

"Always." [F/N] responded, Stars in her eyes.

Muzan smiled, Pulling her close. He looked up and with the single strum of a biwa, He disappeared into the night, Taking [F/N] with him.

Never to be seen again.

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

( Sorry for any writing mistakes, I don't speak English! )

Hello, it's me again! How are you? I was reading some of your Tgcf stories and I had an idea! ✨

I would like to request an Fluff Imagine (?), where (m/n) is married to Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, and has extremely beautiful long white hair!

The three of them were strolling through the ghost kingdom and Hua Cheng sees a beautiful bouquet of roses. He thinks it would look really nice on our hair, since the red would stand out against the white.

(M/n) and Xie Lian were looking at some things in another stall, when Hua Cheng arrives with a beautiful bouquet of roses. When (m/n) asks "what is this?", Hua Cheng just responds: "secret".

When they get home, Hua Cheng asks Xie Lian to help him put the roses in our hair. And it's a really cute moment between the three of them! 💗💗

I hope you have a great day! And I wanted to say that I love your stories! 🗣️💗💗

Roses

HuaLian x M!reader

You, Xie Lian, and Hua Cheng have been married for a while.

It's a loving relationship

But if there was one thing they love most about your physical appearance it had to be your hair

Long, white, pretty locs. That reminded them of the snow.

They think it's gorgeous.

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng spend a lot of time playing, braiding and running their fingers through your hair.

They're like obsessed with it

Well while stroking through ghost city, you and Xie Lian are busy looking at a stall with jewelry in it.

Hua Cheng on the other hand is busy buying some beautiful red roses.

He thinks they'd look gorgeous in your hair.

And it's like putting a piece of him on you.

So when the three of you meet back up and start walking home you're staring at the bouquet in his hands

"What's that for San Lang?"

"You'll see it's a secret baobei"

And you do find out.

When you get home Hua Cheng sits you down on the bed and starts trimming the roses stems and placing them in your hair.

Xie Lian helps too, careful to remove the thorns so it doesn't prick you

Once they're finished your hair has many roses in them, and it does look good.

The dark red popping from your white hair.

Hua Cheng is never wrong and he knew you'd be a vision like this.

[r0ttenhearts]

goodbye, old friend

scaramouche x childhood friend! reader

sypnosis: the memories of your childhood spent with scaramouche

warnings; angst, no comfort, mean scara, arguments, abandonment

WINTER

“what are you doing, (y/n)? stop acting like such a child!” scaramouche’s cold, pink cheeks puffed out as he smacked your hands, the cold snow falling from your gloved hands. the bottom of your lip jut out as small tears started to well up in your eyes.

“stop crying! grow up (y/n)! you’re not a baby.” scaramouche’s harsh words set off your wailing. sucking in his teeth, scaramouche set his cold hands into the snow. a small ball was formed before he set it in your hands, your crying ceasing momentarily. “y-you’re so mean to me, scara.” you sniffled out.

“i just don’t want you to be childish.” he muttered, his hand resting on the top of your head. scaramouche was only a year older than you, 13. but he acted as if he knew it all. his clear influence on you was being shown as you began trading juice boxes for flavored water, stuffed animals being hidden away in your closet when you knew he’d be over for a visit.

a small smile graced your face before cold ice hit scaramouche’s face. a startled yelp left scaramouche’s lips, your giggles following suit before he chased you in the snow. small footsteps following each other, imprinted in the cold white powder.

SPRING

“this feels so weird, scara.” you whispered to him as you both sat on your bedroom floor. the purpled haired boy sat across from you, his cheeks a slight red as he leaned in slowly. “this was your idea, (y/n). or do you want to back out?” the mocking tone in his voice was evident, a smirk across his lips with a shake of your head. “no! i don’t want.. anyone else to have this first with you, scara.”

“oh? so, you want all of my firsts?”

“shut up! that’s not what i meant!”

with your flustered, babbling self you hadn’t noticed scaramouche slowly inching towards you until his lips met yours. it was a quick, gentle kiss. enough to send scaramouche reeling backwards immediately with a choked out “are you happy now?”

a quiet yes left your lips, a small smile on your face. you had taken something he would always remember. his first kiss. his first kiss was with a girl he claimed to not be fond of, but you knew how much you meant to him. he wouldn’t spend every afternoon in your room with you if you never meant much to him. you knew that as well as he did.

that quiet afternoon was spent with you both side by side, a happy revelation that you had gotten what you had always wished for. losing your first kiss to scara at 14.

SUMMER

“you don’t mean it, scara.”

“oh but i do, (y/n). i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

hot tears burned your eyes, it couldn’t be true. he wasn’t doing this to you, not again. the disinterested look across his features wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. it seemed that all he had for you lately was distaste. the past year and a half had been a whirlwind of drama and heartbreak between you two. you had ended up claiming more of his firsts, just like he teased you about.

but it seemed that you had paid a price for every little moment you would forever remember. his cruelty seemed to grow month by month. scaramouche was no longer interested in spending afternoons with you, but with other girls he would deem as interesting for a month. in return, he’d ignore you.

that was until he came back after a nasty breakup. he seemed to care more for this girl than he had for the others, as he usually was in your arms within a month. retelling the stories of how much lacking those girls had been in comparison to you.

but this time was different. his scowl wasn’t only showing his arrogance, but his anger.

“you promised me, scara!” a shared promised on a hot summer night in your backyard. a promise to not go back to the ignoring and neglect, a promise to stay. for good.

“i was lying! are you really still that dumb, (y/n)? i never wanted or needed you. you were just a placeholder until i found other girls. but you knew that, didn’t you? you just didn’t want to believe it.”

you shook your head, more hot tears rolling down your cheeks. “please, don’t do this scara. what about us? what about our friendship? i don’t want to know a life without you.”

“i do. don’t call me anymore.”

you would never forget the tears that would escape your eyes. your heart was aching for the remaining hope for things to go back to what once was. but the rest was seething, angry that you believed him time and time again. angry for his false promises.

“if you go through with this, i’ll never forgive you.”

“so be it.”

AUTUMN

a familiar scarf was wrapped around scaramouche’s neck. a dark purple, almost black thick scarf was hiding his mouth. the same scarf you had gifted him years ago on his birthday. even with the presence of the scarf, it didn’t damped the feelings that welled up in your chest. the hurt, the anger.

“well, did you need something?” you spoke flatly, shopping bags in your grip. christmas was coming up and you had started your shopping a month early. what you hadn’t accounted for was running into scaramouche. his new blonde girlfriend in a candle store nearby, unaware of the tension between you both.

“i..” his mouth opened and closed, almost like a fish gasping for air. you huffed impatiently, the gnawing anxious feeling swallowing your chest. “if there’s nothing then i’ll be on my way.” you mumbled curtly, taking a step to the side of scaramouche. his pale hand shot out, grabbing your wrist, keeping you in place.

“i’m sorry, (y/n).” he whispered, loud enough only for you to hear. the great egoistical scaramouche was apologizing to you?

“i’m sorry for, everything.” he added in a hushed whisper.

“it’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

you two weren’t kids anymore. this wasn’t a small thing to smile widely and take his hand again, like you once did. it was a betrayal. one that cut you deeply like a knife that was never wedged out from your heart. that pain stayed with you, that resentment. the resentment for a boy you once loved in your younger years.

“i don’t expect you to forgive me, but i want you to know that i’m sorry.” there was a slight desperation in his voice, his eyes scanning yours for a hint of what he felt so deeply when he looked at you. but you wouldn’t meet his eyes, you hadn’t since you noticed him looking at you.

you shook your head, your wrist gently being let go from his grip. you left him standing there, wondering if things could have played out differently if he hadn’t left you that summer night. watching your back slowly disappear from view felt like a familiar memory. but this time he wouldn’t expect to see you again. you were older, after all. he still remembered the promise he had broken earlier in the year. a promise to apply to the same college and share a dorm together.

your hesitance at the time bothered him, but now that he was looking back, you were right to hesitate in agreeing to it. it was a promise made to him, after all. and he had never kept a good record of keeping his promises to you. but you always forgave him anyway.

now it was college application season, you both turned in different applications to colleges in complete opposite regions. scaramouche wanted to go to sumeru, and you fontaine. he still had the list of furniture you both had planned to buy for your shared dorm. it still laid jotted down in his notepad that he kept in his bag.

it felt bittersweet to flip past it whenever he had to scribble down something, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear it out. your messy handwriting on that piece of paper was the only thing he had left of what once was a close friendship.

WINTER

the freezing cold temperatures outdoors helped for a lighter mood that christmas morning. the warmth from your parents home was inviting as you opened gifts from your family and friends.

but after all the wrapping paper was torn off boxes and cardboard, there still lay one gift for you. it resided in your parents mailbox, an early morning drop off from scaramouche himself. a letter wishing you happy holidays and tickets to an aquarium you had planned to go with him, only for him to ditch you on the day of, were nestled safely inside the card.

a six year friendship coming to a close, for good this time.

taglist: @samarill @whorerificstuff @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis @linkookie197 @beriiov @xiaonscaraswife @foxlover1144 @gh0sts0up @darliingyu @magica-ren n @scara6 @Maxineslair

[shiny-jr]

damnation (peek V?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Neige LeBlanche, Epel Felmier, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: Should I be posting this right now? Probably not. Especially since Scarabia isn’t completed, but I haven’t posted anything in a while and I’ve been more motivated and inspired for Pomefiore lately. Maybe seeing comments and opinions on this might boost my energy and make me write more and complete both Scarabia and Pomefiore. Hopefully. Anyways, I wanted to post this anyways because technically it was part of the first sneak-peek before I edited it out so I could make its own and make it longer too. That, and after seeing fanart by a mutual, I wanted to write even more. I’m finally getting the chance now. So I’ll be writing right after I post this. Go check out the most recent fanart I got for this specific part of the project. Oh, and if you have no idea what this is, you might want to check the first sneak-peek post (the “I” below) and my previous posts under the #damnation twst au tag. One last thing. None of this is edited, I just copy and pasted from the draft I have so yeah, just in case y’all see mistakes it’s because I haven’t gone over it yet. I usually go over everything once it’s completed.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

THE BEAUTIFUL KING

A dark robe. Wrapped around your shoulders was a black cloak, like wings folded in. Speaking of feathered appendages, there was a single shiny feather tucked behind your ear. You had felt it tickling your earlobe, leading you to pluck it out of your hair to examine it. It was long and black, huge in size, making you imagine it came from a beast of a raven. Slowly you looked up, confused to find yourself at a desk surrounded by books, bottles of odd colorful liquids, and there was even a cauldron in the corner of the stone wall!

Returning your attention back to the feather, you were perplexed but quite liked it so you placed it back behind your ear where you had originally discovered it. Upon standing from the wooden chair, you noticed your change of outfit. A simple white ruffled shirt and black pants, although nearly every inch of you was covered by the black cloak on your back that reached all the way to your ankle and draped around you like a curtain. Lifting up the cloak, you could feel a short sword strapped safely and securely in a hilt on your back hidden away from sight. What was this place…? Why were you dressed like this? Why did you have a sword? What was going on? Was this your punishment?

Just then, your eyes drifted over to a book stand where a heavy leather tome sat open to prying eyes. Your prying eyes, to be exact. Curiously you stepped toward it, your fingers ghosting over the crisp pages of the aged book as you squinted incredulously at the words printed on the surface in a large font, occasionally dotted with red ink. “Poison apple…?” Beside it was the painted image of a ripe red apple, and in its shining reflective skin was the distinct shape of a skull. “One taste of the poisoned apple and the victim’s eyes will close forever in the sleeping death.”

But that… that was from a fairytale! The story of Snow White and the Beautiful Queen! This page about a poisoned apple, the tome, this basement filled with ingredients and suspicious concoctions… So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... what role did you play? Lifting your hand up to your ear, you suddenly felt the familiar soft sensation of the black feather accessory and realization dawned on you. Didn’t the queen have a pet raven…? Could that explain why you were here in these strange but fancy clothes? Of all things, why did you have to be the raven?

How did the story go again? The Queen was vain and wicked, she wished to be the most beautiful of all. It was said that she consulted her magic mirror every day and would inquire as to who the fairest of them all was. Should the mirror ever reply with another’s name instead of hers, she would find a way to kill her rival and would only be satisfied once the mirror answered her name. So when her step-daughter, Snow White, grows to become the fairest of them all, the Queen goes mad with jealousy and has a huntsman attempt to kill her. When that fails, the Queen takes matters into her own hands, eventually turning herself ugly as a disguise and even causing her own untimely demise by falling off a cliff and being crushed by a boulder, her remains left as feed for hungry vultures. That was the Queen, but what about the raven? Well, it’s never disclosed as to what happens to the bird, at least to your knowledge. The last the raven is seen, it was being tormented by the wicked Queen as she was creating the poisoned apple. Actually, maybe being the raven wasn’t so bad afterall… At least it didn’t perish or receive some other horrible ending.

Knowing this brought you much relief. At least you didn’t end up as the raven in that other story about a sleeping princess. That raven was turned to stone! You pity any poor sucker that might’ve ended up in that position. This outcome was adequate, for now. Perhaps it was best to venture outside, to attempt to find this beautiful queen. To be honest, it was a little exciting. You had always wondered how beautiful she was, since the novels always claimed they could never do her justice. But that's besides the point. Once meeting her, you then had to decide what your next move would be.

Keeping all that in mind, you climbed the spiraling stone staircases just barely lit by candles. You winced whenever you heard the squeak of a rat or spotted a rotting corpse of a forgotten prisoner still in chains. Quickening your pace until you reached a wooden door, and stepped into the sunlight. It was warm and delightful, the sun’s rays shining on your skin. You felt free. As of now, this was far from punishment. But knowing that you were sent here to be punished or even die, was what kept you from being completely at ease. You could almost just relax here in the calm and beauty of this garden–– key word, almost. Shrieking and many voices shattered your temporary peace, even scaring away the white doves that had flocked in the open courtyard.

Grumbling, you followed the sound of the commotion. It sounded like it was coming from over the high palace walls. There was one portion of the wall that was shorter than the rest, if you climbed onto the smooth edges of the railing by the stone steps, you could successfully scale onto the top of the wall where you decided to lounge about and spectate the action. On the other side of the wall, you could see a young man getting closer and closer, nervously waving at a large group giggling and following him. It was obvious that he was a little uncomfortable, and that he was trying to lose them without hurting their feelings by how he continued to smile even as he picked up the pace.

When his eyes landed on you, he appeared surprised, and as he walked the path he was getting closer and closer. Feeling pity for the lad, you sighed and stretched your arm down, to which he hesitated a moment before finally deciding to place his hand in yours. You heaved him up and slid down to the safe side of the wall, the palace side, just before his apparent fans could catch him. Their whining and complaining was amusing.

“Thank you…! You saved me!”

Oh, right, he was still here. You glanced over at the young man peering happily up at you with the brightest smile on his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly began to notice his features. Hair black as ebony, skin white as snow, dressed head-to-toe in rags… No way––

“Ah, I know you!” He exclaimed, delighted as he took a step closer. “You’re my elder brother’s attendant! I’ve seen you around the palace countless times. You are always working so hard that I’ve never gotten a chance to properly meet you! Of course you must already know but my name is Neige, it’s truly so wonderful to finally talk like this with you!” He performed a small but polite bow. Such manners for a prince in rags. “I never knew you were so kind! Is there any way I can repay you?”

“Ah, no, there’s no need for that…” You studied his face, attempting to make sense of it all. If this Neige was Snow White, it did make total sense. His skin was flawless, it looked like a marshmallow, so pristine but soft. He was cherubic. His beauty was more of a one of innocence and cuteness, and it seemed the townsfolk noticed his looks judging by how they focused on his physical features instead of his attire. You force your gaze away. This was the prince who the Queen would try to kill. But there’s a chance it may be King in this version, because you’re fairly certain that Neige had just mentioned something about having an elder brother that you apparently worked for. “It was nothing.”

“Please, don’t be so modest! Your actions were selfless and heroic. Had it not been for you, I’m afraid I would’ve been stuck outside all day with no choice other than to interact with all those that followed me. And I couldn’t have that! I promised my brother that I would do my chores.” A sad frown appeared on his face as his gaze traveled back over to the wall, “Although I do regret having just left them without so much as a goodbye…”

So he was kind… Makes sense. Most princesses, or prince in this case, were kind-hearted souls that were far too naive or trusting and had the strangest ability to communicate with woodland creatures. However that last part worked, you weren’t entirely sure.

“The doves of the courtyard gathered by the well with me this morning! And we all made a wish! I, well… It's a bit embarrassing, but I wished for something truly special. And I believe that my wish may have come true!” A pretty pink blush made his cheeks rosy as he clasped his hands together, looking so truly content as he peered up at you.

“Is that so…?” Well, magical animal talking ability, check that off the list. He really was like the princess from the fairytale. But you didn’t like where this was going. You outgrew fairytales a long time ago, but when you read something so fantastical and magical in your innocent imaginative youth, it sticks with you. Perhaps that was a good thing, because even now you could recall the small details of the story.

In the beginning of the story, Snow White is cleaning the courtyard when she meets the doves at the well where she makes a wish to meet her true love. Not too long after, the prince appears on horseback, hearing the princess’ song that leads him to climb over the palace walls to get to her. When you got older, you quickly realized how creepy that actually was. The prince crept up on her like some sort of stalker, and essentially trespassed on private palace grounds. But that’s besides the point right now. The point is, Snow White made a wish to meet her true love which happened to be the prince. Well, right now, you have yet to see another so-called dashing prince or princess. There was just the courtyard and you were alone with Neige, and he was gazing up at you through his lashes and with a pretty smile that appeared too fondly. The Queen, or King, really needed to stop cooping up Prince Neige within the palace walls. It was dulling his sense towards social cues and common sense.

“Hey! What the hell are you doin’...?!”

Surprised at the sudden presence beside you, you looked to see another stranger. This one you couldn’t automatically connect to a role. It was a short young man with a cuteness that could possibly even rival the prince. He had such wide blue eyes and odd soft lavender curls that framed his face. Unlike you and Prince Neige, his outfit was of much finer detail which consisted of a white tunic and long dark blue sleeves from the shirt he wore underneath. A red cloak was draped over the shoulders of his small frame, the ends brushing against his simple pants and boots. But despite his fine clothing and adorable appearance, he spoke with such brashness, irked for whatever reason.

“Ah, you must be Epel! My brother speaks often about you! He says he sees great potential in you!” Neige interjected, oblivious to this Epel fellow’s irritation. Epel… the name didn’t ring a bell. You could accurately deduce what Neige’s role was based on his appearance and the fact that his name meant snow in French. But you still had no idea who Epel was supposed to be. Again, Neige bowed his head in polite greeting as he exclaimed, “Today must be my lucky day! Not only have I met you now, Epel, but I’ve also met–– Um…” He paused, turning to you and inquiring softly, “I’m sorry, I’m so excited that I’ve forgotten to ask your name.”

The lavender-haired boy quickly snatched your attention away from the prince, grabbing your cloak where your arm would be as he hissed in a whisper so as to not involve Neige. “Are you crazy? Talkin’ to the prince…! Vil is gonna fly off the handle!” Not-so-discreetly gesturing to the window right above them with his eyes darting to it and back to you, but not moving his head, so as to not alert the onlooker behind the glass.

You froze, not moving your head but your eyes moved up to where Epel had been glancing at. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely make out a tall and thin figure in purple standing at the large window, holding the red curtains open with both hands. They were watching, and just as you moved your head the tiniest bit to get a better look, you only caught a glimpse of a deep angered frown before the curtains were abruptly shut, barring you from seeing anymore. That could’ve only been the beautiful royal, the monarch in charge that sees Prince Neige as a rival. When you looked back at Neige, he was still smiling at you with his hands folded in front of him, patiently awaiting an answer. Poor guy doesn’t know what’s coming.

“We gotta go, or Rook is gonna drag us back himself…!” Without even waiting for you to give Neige your name, Epel took your hand and ran like a bat out of hell. Making a beeline straight for an entrance to the palace, you attempted to keep up with him. He was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Behind you, you heard, “W-Wait, I never got your name…!”

Well, that’s a crying shame. Focusing your attention on where you were heading, you began to lose track of all the twists and turns within these palace walls. Epel led you forward, he certainly knew where he was going. But you? You hadn’t a clue. That is, until after a few minutes, you arrived at a long hall where at the very end there were double doors already opened. The few soldiers standing guard paid no mind to you and the lavender-haired fellow, probably because in their eyes, you belonged here. And yet that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You felt so incredibly out of place as you stood on the lengthy blue carpet that stretched forward toward a small yet intricately designed throne of gold and jewels formed in the shape of a magnificent peacock with its feathered fanned out. But what was more entrancing than the priceless throne, was the person sitting atop it. Oh, how the novels did not lie, they truly could not do the monarch any justice in portraying their beauty. The King, who must’ve been Vil, could’ve been a world-famous model. His face looked like those perfect sculpted marble statues, it was the type of look that would incur the envious wrath of gods and goddesses in mythology. There was not a single blemish or flaw. Not even a single hair of his golden locks fading into lavender was out of place. The long purple robes under the longer black cloak flowing down his body, complimented the color of his amethyst eyes. Those eyes looked even more shiny than the golden crown perched atop his skull. You weren’t a simp but wow.

The King appeared less than pleased, it actually made you incredibly nervous when he bore a frown and silently beckoned you closer with a single curling movement of his index finger.

Walking past Epel who stood by the door, you took a deep breath as you recounted what knowledge you had on etiquette during this time period. Once you were a few feet in front of him, you began to kneel, when he spoke and caused you to freeze.

“Don’t.” Intense gaze glued to your form, he watched you carefully as he instructed, “Come closer.”

You slowly stepped forward, closer to him.

“Closer.”

Hesitating, you took another step so one foot was on the step in front of his throne.

“Closer.”

Pausing, you inched forward, now standing on the same elevation as the throne. Now you were just centimeters away from him, and it was putting you on edge. When he appeared seemingly satisfied, that’s when you finally kneeled in front of him. With a bowed head, a common sign of respect in customs with monarchies, you greeted simply, “Your Majesty.”

The King peered down at you, silent for a moment as you kept your head down and eyes glued to the ends of his purple robes and how his black cloak that matched yours, but his was much longer, pooled around his throne to look like a black void. After a few moments, you felt his hand at your chin, his slim fingers urging you to look up. When you did, he hummed, “Well, my lovely pet, have you had your fun with my little step-brother?” He gave a question, but it became obvious that he didn’t want an answer. At least not yet. This king must not be too fond of the prince. As his thumb stroked your chin and raised it so your head was almost at his knee, he continued slowly while gazing down at you, “You know that I loathe sharing, don’t you? So why would I share you with my step-brother, hm? Have you perhaps… begun to favor him over me?”

It struck you then that the royal must be an extremely envious person. Not only did they want to remain first in standing when it came to beauty, but he also wanted to monopolize people’s attention so that they may focus on him. Replying carefully, you spoke while keeping your eyes glued to his enchanting yet intimidating gaze, “Of course not, Your Majesty. It was merely a coincidence that I encountered him. I cannot be as easily swayed as the masses.” For a moment you hesitated, seeing that he seemed unconvinced as you proceeded, “... My loyalty to you cannot be broken by a prince in rags.”

After a few moments, the tension in the air evaporated as the king graced you with a smile that made your breath hitch. You had said the right thing. Tempted to glance at Epel for a possible clue on what to do next, you refrained and instead remained still as a statue when the king reached forward with his other hand to remove your hood. “Let me see your face, my retainer.” As soon as the hood was removed, he examined your face in the light. It took an incredible amount of calm to keep composed and not squirm in place under his intense scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he frowned and sighed, “I’ve been keeping you confined beneath the castle for far too long. You’re beginning to look ghastly, and I can’t be seen with someone beside me that’s less than appealing to look at.” Removing his hands from your face, he motioned for you to stand, which you did. “You’ve done enough. Getting rid of our guests and covering it up must’ve been challenging, especially for you to do it all on your own. This time, Rook will take over while you will be receiving enough sunlight to revitalize your complexion. Do not overdo it. Rook.”

Guests? Cover up? This wasn’t in the story. There wasn’t any time to fully process what you heard before you detected yet another voice just right beside your ear.

“Good day, petit corbeau!” You felt your soul leave your body for a single second when these words were said beside your ear by a voice, an extremely close and unfamiliar voice. When you jumped, startled, you noticed there was another young man literally only an inch behind you. When did he even get there? You didn’t even notice him until now! When you stepped to the side out of the way, you furrowed your eyebrows at his smile.

The young man was blonde, with hair styled into a ridiculous looking bob-cut but he somehow made it work as he wore a wide-brimmed brown hat with a black feather. Over his shoulders and back he wore a large hunter green cloth that wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf and extended over his back like a small cloak. Underneath, concealed by the cloth, was a dark tunic and black pants with a belt and knife at his hip. However, what unnerved you wasn’t the knife at his hip or the bow and quiver chock full of arrows on his back. It was his eyes.

His forest green eyes were glued to you, and he bore a wide and charming smile. “Ah, to see you without your hood and out of the undercroft, what a rare sight! Marvelous! I must thank you, Your Majesty, for making this possible! It is not everyday we see your dutiful, striking, mysterious little raven. It is truly a spectacle to behold! I will treasure this rare moment where I’ve not only heard you speak, but have seen your visage without being shrouded by shadows and concealed by your hood!”

You did not like this. The way he was looking at you as he spoke so dramatically made a shiver crawl up your spine. Yes, he spoke nothing but praise in such an honest tone and declaration, but there was something in his eyes. Something that placed you on edge as his smile turned slightly ominous and his eyes narrowed at you. There was a twinkle in his green eyes as he tilted his head at you inquisitively, as if sensing your unease without you even saying a word. This had to be the Rook fellow that Epel mentioned offhandedly, and now it made sense as to why he ran back so quickly just to avoid encountering him.

Much to your relief, Vil sighed and interjected without even standing from his throne. Furrowing his eyebrows, he scolded in an irked tone, “I didn’t summon you to pester my little retainer, Rook. Stress from you is not what my retainer needs right now. It causes wrinkles.”

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” Rook chuckled, obediently turning to fully face the royal as you stood stiffly beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two.

Behind you, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Epel quietly closing the doors once Vil gestured for him to do so. It seemed the king wanted privacy, he wished to say something not even the guards outside the thick wooden doors were allowed to hear. The only ones that would be witnesses to his words were you, Epel, and Rook. You had to wonder what was so secretive that he didn’t even want his soldiers stationed outside to hear, and why were you allowed to hear? Was it because you were supposedly in the role of his trusted retainer? Maybe it had something to do with that cover-up he mentioned just a short time ago.

The tension in the room was thick, it disturbed you and you can tell it bothered the short purple-haired young man too if his growing perturbed frown was anything to go by. Despite this, he took up the space beside you. The blonde with the bow, Rook, who you now were assuming to be a huntsman if his attire and weapons were any giveaway, continued to smile without much of a care. Rook was on the left, Epel was on the right, and you were in the center, and still on his throne was King Vil. With luck, you’ll be able to keep up this act. It wouldn’t do for a retainer to fail. It might cost you and be the slip-up that would put an end to this charade of survival.

“I’ve decided. Rook, the duties I normally give to my retainer will be passed onto you today. You’re much more suited for this job. It involves my little step-brother, Neige.” The way he said the prince’s name made it sound like it pained him just to utter it, like it burned his tongue just to mention him. But he continued. “It seems he’s been working hard at completing his chores, hm? He’s been begging for a day out, and he adores flowers so… Rook, you will take him far into the woods, a secluded meadow where he can pick as many wildflowers as his little heart desires.”

Once you processed his words, you froze. It dawned on you that it was happening, this was the moment in the story when the beautiful queen commanded her huntsman to murder the princess in the woods. Vil must’ve already consulted the magic mirror and was told that he was no longer the fairest in all the land. That title now officially belonged to Neige, but it wouldn’t for long if the king had anything to say about it.

The other two loyal and trusted by the king had no idea, as Epel appeared vaguely bored and disinterested while Rook seemed elated. “Of course! I’ll see to it that it is done, Your Majesty––!”

“I’m not finished.” Vil interrupted, frowning tersely as his gaze turned cold. Tapping his well-manicured nails against the armrest of his throne, his eyes narrowed and he leaned an inch forward while instructing, “There, you will kill him.”

The shock was immediately evident on the face of the two beside you. Epel, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, finally broke his silence with a small gasp as he moved to cover his mouth with one hand. But it was too late, everyone had already heard him and seen his stunned expression. And yet, no one seemed to really care. Everyone was far too engrossed in what was just said by the king.

Rook appeared just as confounded before disbelief took root, as if he didn’t even wish to believe his own two ears. Removing his hat, he held it to his chest and lowered his head respectfully as he placed a hesitant foot forward. “Your Majesty, our beautiful and lovely Vil, you can’t possibly mean–– our prince Neige…!”

“Silence!” Immediately standing from his seat, he scowled, the prince’s name only making his rage more bitter. And then, he said something unexpected, something off script and never in the story. Gesturing to you, he hissed, “My loyal retainer here could make six souls vanish without a trace, why can’t you do it with one mere prince? Must they do everything? Must I have to dirty my own hands? Hm?”

Lowering his head further, the huntsman replied quietly, somberly, his smile now gone. “Of course not, Your Majesty. Your delicate hands aren’t meant to be soiled…” It’s as you suspected. Rook stayed alive and was one of Vil’s closest servants because he was witty enough to think of something on the spot that was complimentary enough to appease the bitter royal. At least, that’s what it seemed like at the moment. For now, you were grateful you weren’t him. Some people who read the story of Snow White liked to theorize that the huntsman was murdered by the vicious queen for failing to assassinate the princess.

Vil was quiet, not completely calm judging by his sneer but he was composed enough not to say anything more. Standing tall, his gaze honed in on you and Epel, to which he spoke, “My loyal, diligent retainer, escort my successor out. I need to have a word with Rook, privately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

[talesofesther]

moments tucked away

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve is a menace to sleep with. Why? Because he hogs all your blankets.

A/N: That's it, that's the story; I just vomited fluff on my writing app. Enjoy.

Masterlist

The situation was less than ideal.

It's not like Indiana highways near Hawkins had many luxury motels. But still, would it be too much trouble to have a heater in the room?

It was mid-winter and the roads wore a white blanket over them. When one is coming back from Indianapolis — after a trip that was supposed to be quick but wasn't, because someone forgot to check the car's battery — and all but a blizzard starts falling from the sky, snow so thick you can't see five feet ahead of you, it gets just about impossible to keep driving in the night.

You didn't have to think too much about it when the motel's old neon sign appeared on the white horizon. It was safer to wait it out even if you didn't have a change of clothes with you, even if there were unspoken words darting back and forth between the looks you shared with Steve, your roommate for the night.

There wasn't a spot in the parking lot near the entrance, many people had the same idea as you. You two had to bury your feet in the light snow to reach the reception, soaking your sneakers and coating Steve's hair in white snowflakes.

The old lady in the reception was less than impressed by your clattering teeth and Steve's purple lips, she handed you the keys and before you could ask for separate rooms she was shutting you up with; "this is the last one we have."

And so you ended up here, in a double bed that felt way too small to be called a double bed, hearing the glass windows shake with the howling wind outside — wind that seeped through the cracks in the wood and didn't allow the room to hold warmth — and with your back pressed to Steve's shoulder, your feet brushing his lower leg when you moved, and all too aware of how warm his body felt.

The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, the red numbers on the bedside clock telling you it had been about five minutes since the last time you looked when it felt like thirty.

Steve was snoring softly beside you. You couldn't sleep.

You clutched the covers in your hands, which were barely covering you, and pulled them closer to your chest, trying to fool your body into warming itself up. Blowing hot breath into your hands, the tips of your fingers against your lips were icy.

Your movements were all rigid and slow, just trying to get comfortable because it's been about two hours since the most awkward conversation of your life — convincing Steve to not sleep in the sorry excuse of a couch you had in the room because you didn't fancy waking up to him in a hypothermic state — and all you did was toss and turn in the bed.

Steve's breathing changed pace beside you, he mumbled something, and turned, away from you and taking the damn covers with him in a strong grip.

Cold air bit at your skin instantly, your lips hovering open as if he'd personally offended you. With an annoyed huff, you turned too, both hands gripping the end of the pastel pink blanket and yanking hard.

Steve woke up with a start when the fluffy material was snatched from his grip. He sat up in a quick motion, blinking several times until his eyes adjusted, head turning from one side to another trying to remember where he was.

You felt bad, but only a little.

Just after his eyes landed on you beside him, that Steve seemed to relax, shoulders moving with deep breaths. He let himself fall back on the bed, hitting his pillow with a thud, one hand going over his eyes. "What the hell?" He grumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"You were hogging the blankets and it's cold." You mumbled, only being able to make out the outline of Steve's nose and lips in the dark.

He let out a mix between a sigh and a chuckle, turning to you, his eyes shining with the faint glow of the street lights from outside. "'m sorry."

"'s okay."

You two were all lazy words and forgotten boundaries, with the rational part of your brains clouded with sleep at such late hours.

You reached out, throwing the other half of the blanket over Steve again; the warmth of his body momentarily engulfed your touch, your fingers grazing over his chest, making you want to be closer. Even closer, that is.

"Are you cold?" He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. A hand caught hold of yours before you could tuck it back, his fingers closed around yours.

"A little." You breathed, the skin of his palm holding most of the focus still awake in your body.

You pulled away when, instead of answering, Steve made to move closer; "go back to sleep Steve, we still have a bit of a drive in the morning."

The yearning to say more was almost palpable, Steve's lips hovering open for a beat before he clamped them shut and nodded. He did as told, and closed his eyes.

An hour passed, maybe less, and sleep was finally starting to take over your tired body; but the boy beside you had other plans.

The covers were taken from you, again, in a smooth motion, remaining only over your feet.

You groaned his name in frustration, bringing both hands over your eyes and feeling droplets of tears collecting there; because you were tired, and you were cold. You just wanted to rest and honestly, you just wanted to be closer to-

"Didn't mean to, didn't mean- sorry." Came Steve's groggy voice right after, his eyes not even completely open and he was already turning to you.

He threw the covers over your body, his arm going around your waist and staying there when you refused to look at him. "Hey, hey, jus- just come here yeah?" He urged, words slurring together as he gently tugged on your shirt.

You slowly uncovered your eyes with a sigh, looking in his direction with pursed lips, "what?"

"C'mere, c'mon." Steve didn't wait for an answer before pulling you closer, steady arms around your waist gluing your body to his.

He was like a human radiator, all soft and warm skin and tight embraces, the kind that makes you feel the safest. He had his limbs tangled with yours in no time, face burying in your hair as a pleased hum escaped his lips.

You didn't know if his brain was half asleep and he wasn't thinking this through, or if he just didn't care about the implications at all. But he was so goddamn warm, and as you snuggled against his chest and slid a bold hand under his shirt to hold him; you decided you didn't care either.

___

Morning came with the company of a clear sky, the calm after the storm; a chilly breeze flowing outside with the company of birds singing and basking in the sun's rays.

A low groan escaped Steve when a golden light came over his eyes. He furrowed his brows, slowly blinking his eyes open. For a cheap motel bed, he felt incredibly cozy and well-rested. He squeezed the comforting weight that rested on top of him, breathing in the sweet smell of coconut shampoo.

His hand moved up on the curve of your waist, drawing up your shirt a little, over your shoulder blades, and up to your hair, then finally his drowsy mind started to catch up with what happened last night.

Steve tensed, his body going rigid under you for just a second, just until he glanced down; your head was resting on his chest, lips partly open as you snored softly, your hand had disappeared under his shirt, and he could feel your skin touching his abdomen.

There was a beat, a moment tucked away in a secluded motel bedroom where Steve prayed his thundering heart wouldn't wake you up, not yet. He raised a hand, all silk-like touch and innocent hope, fingertips brushing away a few stray hairs that covered your eyes.

Your eyebrows crunched together and Steve wanted to plant a kiss in between them. You woke up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with your free hand. Steve felt when you realized the same thing he did just a moment ago, your body freezing on his hold before you tentatively glanced up at him.

"Morning," Steve tried with a smile, fingers tracing up and down your arm as he counted the beats of his heart until the moment you'd pull away.

It never came. You huffed, cheek marked with sleep as a lazy smirk came to your lips. Your eyes moved over Steve's face and he could only imagine the wildness of his hair at this time in the morning.

You stretched, and snuggled against him again comfortably. You played with the hem of his shirt as you said, "next time, we're using two blankets."

Steve chuckled, all warm cheeks and goofy smile. He hugged you closer, lips brushing over your hairline.

Next time.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Steve’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @tiaamberxx @alexisaflop @alicetweven @just-love-reading @katsukis1wife @frostandflamesfanfic @k1ngeddie @andraimeide @esoltis280 @robinbuckleyssgf @justacrush

Let me know if you wanna be added to his taglist.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Bucket List - Bucket Moments || CL16

Warnings: fluff WC: 1.2k Main Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments || Five Years Later

1. Sleep under the northern lights

Charles found another blanket in the storage box and draped it over your shoulders as he joined you in the clearing. 

“Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” You asked the question quietly, fearful that your very voice could disturb the peace of the night. Overhead, green and orange light danced to the music of the universe that you could almost hear. 

“Every day,” Charles whispered too quietly for you to hear. Swallowing the lump in his throat he recorded the northern lights illuminating the wonder on your face. You were mesmerised as you reached for the colour like it was a ribbon you could catch if you were quick enough, but it slipped through your fingers. 

“Make an angel with me, Cha,” you giggled as you tossed the blanket aside and fell back into the snow. Charles fell down beside you and waved his arms like you made him do whenever he took you skiing. “I could stay frozen here forever.”

“Me too, mon ange.” 

8. Go to India for the colour festival  

“Don’t you dare,” Charles warned as you filled your fist with a dark blue powder. “Amour!”

You bent in half with the burst of laughter that cut through his faux annoyance and his own laugh joined yours. His white shirt was splattered with the colour of his biggest competitor and you grinned as you took a photo, sending it to Max. A burst of powder hit your front and you gaped at the explosion of red clouding your vision before it cleared to reveal Charles’ smug face. 

“That’s better,” he hummed as he pulled you into his arms, the colours of the rainbow dusting your face as he dipped his head down to yours and kissed you. “None of those Red Bull colours for you, mon ange.”

A peal of laughter sounded as you were pushed apart and Lorenzo ducked between you, a burst of yellow hitting Charles and raining over you. “Sorry, chére!” Arthur apologised as he bolted off again, chasing the eldest brother. 

Charles wrapped his arms around your waist as he stepped up behind you, watching his brothers race through the energetic crowd to find Joris and Pierre. His soft laugh warmed your cheeks as the three guys made an absolute mess. “Snow fights will never beat this.”

Your eyes widened with an idea. “Imagine colouring the snow balls!”

“Except yellow,” Charles pointed out, chuckling as your nose wrinkled at the idea.

“No, definitely not yellow,” you agreed. “But it would be funny to prank them if you did…”

Charles turned you in his arms and smiled fondly as he wiped away some of the coloured powders from your cheeks. “I love that mind of yours.”

“Just my mind?”

His eyes trailed over your shirt that was no longer white and his pupils darkened by the second as he bit his lip and continued to survey you with a look of hunger. Slowly he dragged his eyes back up until he reached your face again and released his plump lip from his teeth. “Yes, just your mind.”

He rocked back on his heels with a loud laugh that came from deep in his stomach and you gave him a little push against his chest. “Cha!”

Your feet disappeared from the ground as he picked you up and your hands came to rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you in awe. “There is not a single part of you I don’t love, mon ange.”

12. Teach Charles to cook

Charles would rather go swimming with sharks again, and he had not enjoyed that. He knew it would be a hell of a lot better than what you were about to make him do though. 

“I look stupid,” he complained as he placed the toque on his head. 

“You look stupid?” you laughed, pointing to your own head. “I have a hairnet on and I don’t have hair. So put your big boy pants on and let’s go, class is starting.”

You had debated trying to teach Charles to cook yourself but after a few mishaps and burned tea towels you decided you needed professional help for the task. This culinary school for beginners promised that it could teach even the most incompetent cooks to master the basics and most importantly, pasta. 

Thankfully putting Charles in a class setting made him focus and take note of the instructions. You could always count on him to become the teacher's pet and by the third lesson you watched with pride as he kneaded the pasta dough to perfection. 

“Can you dust a little more flour please?” he asked as he held the dough up.

“Yes, chef,” you saluted as you took a handful and scattered it over the bench. “Oh, you’ve got a little something on your cheek.”

“Can you get it?” he turned his cheek towards you as you tossed the rest of the flour at him. “Non…run.”

You turned and squealed as he grabbed a handful of flour and gave chase. “You’re going to get us expelled!”

He ignored you as he herded you into the huge pantry and you armed yourself with an egg in each hand. “We have ourselves an old-fashioned standoff, huh?” he teased. “It’s a good thing your aim is terrible.”

Charles moved first, showering you with the flour, and you launched the first egg. He deftly dodged it by jumping aside but it put him right into the trajectory of the second and it splattered over the chef’s jacket he wore. He looked down at the bright yolk and slimy whites that dribbled to the floor before looking back at the door where the chef was standing with a red face. 

“Both of you, out of my kitchen now!”

You tried to keep a straight face as you shuffled through the mess without slipping over and rushed to grab your handbag. “I can’t believe you got us expelled!” You burst into laughter as you exited the building and raced Charles to his Pista in the parking lot. 

“Me?” he laughed as he caged you between the car door. His eyes sparkled with amusement and he couldn’t help stealing a kiss when your happiness was as pure as it was in that moment. “Since I ruined our dinner plans, what would you like to eat? And please don’t say pasta or I will take you over my knee and spank you.”

“I mean, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you winked. “How about cake? You are already wearing half of the ingredients.”

[candycandy00]

So I thought I’d introduce the concepts for my JJK Fairytale AU. Some of you sent in some interesting suggestions, but in the end I decided to go with the most famous fairytales that would fit. I’m already writing the first one, Gojo x Cinderella. You’ll notice some of these ideas are more developed than others. Here are the others I plan to write. 

Please vote for which one you’re most interested in! I’ll write them all but I’m curious about how much interest people have. It might affect the order I write them in. 

Geto x Little Red Riding Hood

Reader is a young woman traveling through the dangerous woods to reach a safe house. This is a kingdom ravaged by war, and she’s a medic. She has medicine and supplies that she needs to bring to a military safe house to treat some injured soldiers there, but there’s a big bad wolf (Geto) stalking her. He was an enemy soldier she saved once, now turned into a werewolf, and hungry for her in more ways than one. 

Toji x Snow White

Reader is a beautiful young woman living in a small rural village. There’s a huntsman who lives close by (Toji) who is a lot older than her, but she has a bit of a crush on him. For his part, he thinks she’s pretty but also thinks she’s too young for him (she’s like 20, he’s late 30’s). So he mostly ignores her. He’s known for being an excellent hunter and gets hired to go hunt dangerous animals in the woods. The evil queen hires him to take Snow White into the woods and kill her, but once he actually spends time with her, he might decide to just keep her. 

Choso x Rapunzel

Reader is gathering herbs in the forest and stumbles upon an old watch tower inhabited by a cute but antisocial hermit (Choso) who seems sweet and keeps talking about his brothers who are “out” and will be back any minute. She starts visiting him regularly because she likes him, but she suspects his brothers might be dead and he just can’t face it. One day she gets attacked by a wild boar and injures her ankle. Choso finds her and takes her back to the tower. She faints and wakes up to find that he’s locked her in the top of the tower and won’t let her leave, because he’s afraid she’ll leave and never come back, just like his brothers. Choso as a classic Yandere. Reader’s only plan is to grow her hair out long enough to make a rope with it to escape. 

Higuruma x Little Mermaid

Reader is a mermaid in love with a lawyer who lives in a coastal town and specializes in shipping contracts (Higuruma). She makes a deal with the sea witch and signs the contract to get human legs in exchange for her voice, but when she formally meets Higuruma, she ends up showing him the contract. He’s flattered that she did all this for him, but (like in the original story) the new legs cause her terrible pain, every step feeling like walking on glass (seriously the original story was fucked up). Will this genius lawyer be able to find a loophole in her contract and free her? 

Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty

Reader is a princess who was cursed at birth. If she ever pricks her finger on a needle, she’ll fall into a deep sleep/coma. Her parents recently died, leaving her as the young ruler. Her first step is to hire a new captain of the guard, a mysterious and powerful man rumored to be a murderer (Sukuna). She’s instantly attracted to him, and despite her obvious flirting, he rejects her everytime, smugly saying a dainty princess like her couldn’t handle him. But when she ends up pricking her finger, Sukuna recognizes the curse, and knows that she’s still aware of everything, can still feel and hear everything. And the only way to break the curse is to fuck her. 

Nanami x Beauty and the Beast

Since multiple people mentioned wanting Reader to be the Beast, I’m going for it! That’s right, Beast Tamer Nanami! Reader was cursed by a witch to be a beast (she’s still cute though, more like a lil bunny girl lol) and her royal parents are ashamed of her so they banish her to a secluded castle. Then they hire Nanami to take care of the place (and Reader). 

[zeezelweazel]

Chloe Kelly| New year, new me|

______________________________________

Happy new year babes!

(I spend fuve hours on Pinterest trying to find that pic omg)

I'm almost at 1k followers and I have no idea what I should do about it 💀

____________________________________________________

You and Chloe decided to spent the holidays with her family and even though it wasn't the first time you two spent the holidays together, somehow this time was special. You loved Chloe's family and they loved you. It was always fun spending time with them but especially during the holidays. Chloe's mom was an exceptional cook and every single dish on the table was to die for.

After everyone arrived the house was very busy. A flurry of kids screaming and chasing eachother around the house, the dogs barking and playing with eachother, different family members engaging in conversation.

You were sitting on the couch in Chloe's arms, the blonde running soft circles on your back while some other family members shared their childhood stories. After one of Chloe's cousins finished his story you turned your eyes to her father who was sitting comfortably on his armchair. You glanced up at your girlfriend and the blonde immediately recognised the mischievous swirl in your eyes. When you looked back to her father you grinned.

"Got any embarrassing stories about little Chloe?"

You heard the family laugh at your question and Chloe groaned, definitely not excited with the direction this conversation was headed to. You sat up excited and Chloe's cheeks flushed red as she pouted like a child. You resisted the urge to press kisses on her face, she looked absolutely adorable like this.

"Well there was that one time, when she..."

You listened to the older man in glee, absolutely delighted with the new blackmail material you were gathering. Chloe herself gave up on sulking about it halfway through the story. Instead the winger focused on you and how stunning you looked. Her chest was warm and her heart fluttered, there's nothing she loves more than seeing you be happy with her family. By the time her father had finished the utterly embarrassing story about her, it was almost time for the count down. The tv was on and the entire family was gathered in the living room where you waited patiently for the new year.

You chose to spent the last few moments of 2023 looking at your girlfriend's beautiful blue eyes. You caressed her face, slowly rubbing your thumb across her cheek, your heart skipping a beat when Chloe leaned into the gentle touch. She brought one of her hands up to your shoulders and the other to the back of your neck where she softly scratched your skin with her nails. You were lost in eachother, not taking notice of anything or anyone in the room.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too baby, more than anything."

What finally dragged you back to the present was the loud noise of everyone clapping their hands in rhythm with the big numbers on the screen. As you watched the time run out you were overwhelmed with the rush of memories of the previous year.

10

9

8

Chloe's bright laughter was the only thing that you could hear with the all that water in your ears. You shook your head trying to get the water out and the blonde inched closer still giggling, whipping the droplets from your eyelids so you can open your eyes. When you did you were met with her warm gaze, the sun illuminating her skin making her hair shine. She looked so beautiful, you felt butterflies dance in your stomach. You grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a soft but passionate kiss.

7

6

5

You looked up at the sky, thousands of snowflakes falling on the ground. Christmas was near and the holiday season made Manchester even prettier than it already is, the heavy snow painting everything white. Chloe's hand felt warm from where your hands were tightly interlinked. You were both quiet but it was a comforting silence, one that let you simply enjoy the moment. "I love you." The words left your lips before you could even think about it, but you didn't need to, her soft lips whisked every thought away.

4

3

2

Your eyes welled with tears of happiness, absolutely overwhelmed with emotions. You looked at the blonde, who was in a similar state and resisted the urge to laugh at how in tune you two were. Instead you grinned waiting for the big moment of the countdown.

1

The next second fireworks blew in the sky, cheers and laughter erupted in the room alongside a bunch of "happy new year!" but the only thing you could focus on was Chloe's lips, the slow push and pull of your lips moving in tandem against eachother. When you finally pulled back you were both slightly out of breath, eyes firmly locked together.

"Happy new year babe."

You smiled and pulled her in a hug softly kissing the top of her head.

"Happy new year, love."

It was all celebrations from there on, the children went to bed and the pets were too tired to keep playing around so only the adults of the family were left, drinking champagne and wine. You were in conversation with Chloe's mom until the blonde grabbed your arm suddenly. You turned to look at her surprised, only to find mischief looking back at you. You were about to open your mouth to question her when she voiced her own idea.

"Wanna hard launch?"

You and Chloe have been dating for years now but you've dine well to keep your relationship under wraps. Obviously there was baseless shipping from the fans but no one could actually say that you guys are together. Her question shocked you because Chloe herself is the reason why this relationship isn't public. The blonde hasn't come out publicly even though her inner circle knows. You're not sure if it's the alcohol talking, because you haven't had a conversation about announcing your relationship for quite a while. Your hesitation must've slipped into your expression because Chloe was frowning now.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"I do! I just... I thought you weren't ready."

Chloe pulls you in a side hug and grins before shrugging her shoulders.

"It's a new year, time for change right?"

yourinstagramuser

Liked by leahwilliamsonn and 107,773 others

yourinstagramuser happy new year to everyone, hopefully another happy year with my love @chloekelly

View all 892 comments

chloekelly my love 🩵🥰

↑ yourinstagramuser babyyy 😍❤️

lauren_hemp so sweet

lj10 finallyyyy I've been waiting for this one

fan1 the hard launch??? Hello??

fan2 I knew I wasn't delusional 😭

fan3 look at my parents you guys, aren't they the cutest

____________________________________________________

[cripplecharacters]

Hello! I need advice for writing a character with oculocutaneous albinism who’s a platonic love interest without descriptions of her coming off as fetishising albinism. Her name is Glass and she’s blind and an investigative journalist and will be a reoccurring character in the series. The MC is gay and he describes her very affectionately in the narrative. When she’s introduced he fondly points out (to the reader) a lot of traits about her including things related to her albinism like “slightly wavy snow white hair in a fashionable bob and striking dark blue eyes that gently danced back and forth. One eye was pointing slightly inwards as she tilted her head and smirked at him.” I got the “dancing eyes” idea from a short film made by someone with albinism and nystagmus. I’m going to try and describe other traits about her more, especially about her personality to counter this.

I also have a question that might be too specific? I’m planning on giving her a little brother with ocular albinism, OA. If someone has a daughter with OCA are they more likely to have a son with OA or are the two kinds of albinism genetically unrelated? I wanted to include him to have more then one blind character in the story. Thanks for your time. :) -Anon Blue.

Hi! We don't currently have mods with Albinism, so I'll try my best. I recommend our #albinism representation tag for resources made by people with it! :-)

If you don't put most of the attention of how she looks to her hair or skin color, I think it should be fine. It's okay to mention it - I mean, that's just how she is, would be kinda weird to fully ignore it - but don't make other characters or the narrator gush over her paleness or eye color every time she comes up. Change it up and praise her fashion sense (like you did with her hairstyle!), the shape of her nose, how bushy her eyebrows are, or how her gums show when she's smiling instead! Her appearance shouldn't be reduced to just "girl with albinism" - give her other visual traits! :-) For other descriptors, I would avoid making her "angelic" or "ethereal" because of her disability. Remember to not make it mystic or magical; there's a whole "Magical Albino" trope out here that you should try to avoid.

You mentioning nystagmus and strabismus is great! Those are often forgotten or ignored in characters with albinism because they're not seen as "pretty". I've seen some people describe their nystagmus as "dancing eyes" before too, I think it's a very cool of conveying it!

In general, a good way to avoid fetishization is to include the "boring/mundane" things. When you show the medical parts of albinism like the esotropia, avoiding the sun, having her use a white cane or a guide animal, or using Braille, the representation will be more informed overall and not just an "aesthetic" - which a lot of characters with albinism unfortunately end up being. There's a big difference between a blind journalist guided by a German shepherd who happens to not have melanin and needs a Big Hat, and an evil sniper with bright red eyes and mysterious powers. I hope this makes sense!

In case that Glass is Black, I'd recommend looking at the #albinism tag at @writingwithcolor - it's always good to make sure your descriptions don't come off as unintentionally colorist if you go into her skin color. Things like describing her as more frail or delicate (when compared to other Black characters) would be in poor taste, so look out for that intersectionality if it applies!

The brother with ocular albinism part; those two types are completely unrelated, and it would be incredibly rare (not impossible) for that to happen as far as I know. For reference, almost all OCA (1-7) and OA (1-2) types are caused by completely different genes. The only exception could be OA1 and OA3; we don't currently know what causes the third one, and there's a theory that it's just a different presentation of the first. But I'm not aware of anything like that for oculocutaneous albinism, so if Glass has OCA1 (as I'm assuming from the description), her brother would have OCA1 as well (as opposed to OCA3 or any other subtype) if anything!

One interesting thing that you could do to have him have OA that I never see in fiction is to have him be adopted. I know multiple families who had a child with a certain disability and decided to adopt a second (or third, or fourth...) one with it! I think it could be very cool and would make sense with him being the younger one. Here is an interview/vlog from a real-life family with six adopted blind kids, if you want an example of that :-)

Wanting to include multiple blind characters is a great idea - if adoption doesn't work for your story, he could have the same type of albinism as Glass or have a non-genetic cause of blindness, like CVI, Retinopathy of Prematurity, glaucoma, or a whole lot of other things!

A story about a blind investigative journalist sounds awesome! Good luck with your writing!

mod Sasza

[justporo]

How to Catch a Mouse

Another idea I have to put out there and potentially save up for a longer story later on. This has been brewing since I read the drabble on Ascended Astarion meeting Tav at a masquerade ball this morning and I... I thought I wasn't much for his Ascended ass, but... now, I really wanna write Astarion as the cruel, perfect, gentleman villain.

So, just... a really tiny tiny drabble? So I can get it out of my head for now and can maybe sleep tonight?

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

On a small stone column in the middle of the room you found what you were looking for: shining in the moonlight from a small opening in the ceiling that seemingly only had been created for this very purpose lay an amulet.

It looked inconspicuous - boring some might even say, but you knew of the power its held. And so did your mysterious client that sent you out to get it.

So you had spent weeks trying to get an opportunity to get into the place of this nobleman and steal it. And today it had been it: the revelry of the illustrous party still made itself heard here in this room, deep in the guts of this enormous mansion.

Getting into this palace of a place had been the hardest part, but this now? This seemed like child's play. Your checks had found no traps, still you wondered why someone would put such a treasure so openly on display.

You stretched out your hand, your fingers looked almost snow-white when they entered the pale moon light.

"Do you know how to catch a mouse?"

Your heart dropped, your fingers twitched back from the amulet and your eyes widened in panic. Not only had you been caught red-handed, but that silky voice...

It had been almost exactly ten years since you had last heard it but you had not forgotten it. Not in bit. And neither had it lost its effect on you, it seemed.

You gulped - no way out of this it seemed.

"Your lines seemingly haven't improved although you had ten years to polish them." You did not turn around but kept staring at your bounty infront of you - because you feared what might happen when you did.

"Ah, so pleasantly brutal - just like I remembered you." You heard the voice coming closer - and with it footsteps that surely hadn't been there before.

"Come on, humour me, darling", the voice drew out the last word and basically let it whip off its tongue "Just for the sake of old times."

"By putting out cheese?", you replied dryly. You could feel a presence nearing, making all your hairs stand on end. All your senses screamed at you to run, run, and never look back.

But long, elegant fingers with some gold rings on them started to run over your hips in the dress you'd stolen specifically to blend in at this stupid party.

You looked down to see well manicured male hands stroke over your midline - back and forth, slowly, and with more and more grip. You could see the hem sleeves of a dark red satin doublet, finely embroidered in gold. And the memory of these hands - combined with the chocolatey voice made your heart flutter like the wings of a trapped butterfly; as much in fear as in twisted excitement.

Then the voice was directly at the nape of your neck. So close, you felt a curl of hair - that you were sure would be white if you looked - tickle your pointy ear.

"And do you know what that there is?", the voice whispered to you in a tone that was made for candle light, bedrooms and messed up sheets.

"The cheese?", your voice trembled in reply. You could barely keep still while the hands' grip on you tightened even more.

"Very good, my little mouse", the voice chuckled softly into your ear.

"And what does that make you?", you asked in a futile attempt to not let yourself get overwhelmed completely.

"The cat!"

[aph-mable]

Dp x MHA prompt/story; ghostly child.

Okay so this idea been turning in my head for most of the day so I'm going to try to write this, anyone is free to add to it too.

Main plot is this; Danny is on the run from the GIW, being injured enough to cause him to de-age to around 6-7 years old. Same power strength and mind, but suffering from pretty bad injuries such as dissection, and having a lightning scar on his arm from the accident, others are from dealing with the other ghosts.

Danny does try to survive by himself, mainly useing the tricks and abilities he learned from his rouges, mostly doing the bare minimum to get by like steal food and clothes, sometimes kick bad guys to the curb but mostly keeps to himself.

He is in the MHA because during his escape he ended up creating a portal, while doing so he was begging for safety and to finally be accepted, the infinite realms awnsered by placing him a universe of heros, though it takes Danny some time to realize that.

Now with that established time to try and start the story, (though writing this while a bit tired)

___________________________________

.

Danny's bare feet echoed as he ran through the rain storm, it made his body shiver yet he kept pushing through as his medical gown was almost causing him to trip due to it being a size a bit to big.

Yet it didn't matter to the young boy as he ran through the dark streets and alleyways, the pitch blackness of the night helped cover his tracks as he pushed his body forward.

All Danny knew was he needed to run, get away from the men in snow white suits, or else his blood will be splattered again.

No, no, that can't happen again, they had already cut Danny's body over a thousand times that he worried if there was anything human left of him.

His hair was already permanently white, his eyes now a sickly green that shined like spot lights in the dark, he even lost the real need to breath which was the only reason he hasn't collapsed yet.

The sickly young boy only stopped running when he slammed into a trash can, causing him to fall over and cry out in pain as his hands and knees bleed out a toxic red and green.

Painful sobs escaped his mouth as he culled up behind a dumpster, useing what little shelter from the pouring rain.

Finally unable to go any further Danny passes out, coughing now and then as he falls into a restless sleep.

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

The sounds of birds chipping and passing by cars woke up Danny as the sunrise peeked though the clouds.

Rubbing his eyes and sticking to the shadows Danny crawled from his hiding spot to see where he even was, everything felt so much bigger then they used to be and it was kind of scary.

When Danny peeked around the corner what he saw made his eyes widen.

People and humanoid creatures walked the streets, drove in cars, and chatted away like there wasn't a problem in the world, living their lives without a care around them.

How long was Danny locked up? How far has the world move on that both human amd supernaturals could live together without fear? Would he be accepted for once or rejected again and hunted?

Too many questions filled the young halfa's mind, he needed to get away from the crowds and find some where safe, after all the Guys In White was most likely still looking for him.

Backing away further into the shadows Danny took twisting turns and back paths just to try and stay hidden. Ducking behind whatever he could find like a scared beast whenever a loud or sudden noise happened.

After hours of wondering the streets a painful growl came from Danny's stomach, reminding him that he was still human enough to need food, real food, not just literal trash.

Grumbling Danny went looking for an out of way convince store or small food shop, knowing full well he will have to steal from it. He would possibly go to a bigger food chain that wouldn't care as much about a few missing items, but Danny was still scared of being seen by too many people.

Finally finding a shop that was out of the way and didn't seem to have even a customer inside it Danny took his chance.

Pulling at his core and useing what energy he had, turned himself invisible and intangible as he walked right through the door.

Moving quickly he grabbed what his tiny arms could hold, which was a water bottle and twi pre made sandwiches.

Looking at the check out counter he could see a very tired looking young lady with stripes and long fangs, looking close to a wearcat, bored out of her mind. Werid words and colorful posters sounded her like some kind of ads.

Seeing he wasn't noticed yet Danny bolted for the door.

His invisibility slipped just as he passed the store clerk, leaving her only a sight of a small white haired boy in a werid gown phasing though the doors. It took only a second to make her realize he was running with unpaid store items.

Danny could hear distant yelling as he booked it back to the darkness of the alleyways, catching a few other people's attention but escaping.

Once sure no one was chasing him, Danny wolfed down his sandwiches and downed the water. Ancients, he hadn't even eaten or even got a proper drink like that in ages, tye most he gotten was the bare minimum to keep him alive.

Now a bit more fulied and a clearer mind Danny was planning his next move, which was finding a place to well, live in. A place to hide away from and maybe make his new haunt if it stays a good spot.

As he dusted himself off a near by broken mirror caught his eye. Moving forward Danny could see himself for the first time in a long while... it was a bit distressing.

Standing in the reflection was a young boy no older then 7, with snow white hair that was long and tangled with ectoplasm abd blood, wearing an oversized medical gown that was torn at the bottom, showing his recent knee injuries and barely hiding his lightning scar and others. Lime green eyes stared back at him as tears were rolling down his crumb covered face.

Not wanting to look at the monster in the mirror any longer, Danny matched forward in hopes to find an abounded building close by so he wouldn't have to pass out on the streets again.

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

An unknown amount of weeks passed by, during that time Danny had found an old shack not to far off from a small stream and bridge.

From there he stole the odd blanket or clothing that were left in the wind to dry, making a nest withing the rotting boards. Danny manged to get his hands on a few shirts and shorts that would fit his smaller body better, yet kept the bloodied hospital gown, mostly as a way to cover up a big hole in the wall.

During his raids to get resources Danny did get spotted many more times, especially when trying to snach food, but so far hasn't been chased further then a block or two.

Danny had quickly found out two major factors of this new place; firstly he couldn't read anything, everything looked like werid squiggles and lines, that might be due to him not being good at reading in the first place or the fact he only knew how to read/write ghost since that's what he did to pass the time. Secondly was there were heros and villains, and he wasn't sure who he was more scared of.

Heros were easy to spot since they wore costumes and announced themselves, villains were more subtle most of the time until they start causing trouble.

Danny had a few run in with the latter, mostly just jerks who think a kid would be an easy target. They were proven wrong quickly when Danny knocked them out by barely trying and dragging them to what he thought was a police station.

Heros were much more tricky, Danny mainly blots whenever he sees any, same with police in person, because what if they worked with the GIW? What would happen if they find out Danny was nothing but an abomination, a crime against life and death.

He wasn't going to risk it.

Yet unaware to Danny due to his adventures he had been spotted multiple times by civilian and a few heros too, one or two may have caught a picture of him back when he was still in his medical gown. And with him naturally running whenever a hero was spotted things were getting suspicious.

Heros and officers were alerted to the presents of a young boy who's case was looking scarily similar to another.

Which lead to Danny's main problem now...

He keeps getting chased by heroes!

Danny mostly avoids them by phasing thorough buildings but it was getting annoying. He started to use his intangiblity, floating, and ice abilities more, he didn't use his ecto blasts since he didn't want to cause that much harm. So far he's been stalked and chased by a werid guy made out of wood, a cowboy, and a rabbit lady just this week! That's not counting the police trying to corner him.

The only ones now that weren't giving him any trouble were normal people and the odd villan.

All Danny wanted to do is eat a good sandwich and maybe relax a bit.

_____________________________________

Going to stop here for tonight but might add more later, any suggestions on how to make this story better is appreciated too.

[mxtxfanatic]

So @fireandgrimstone and I once had a discussion about how mxtx handles Xie Lian’s crossdressing in tgcf, the gist of which was whether or not it was falling into a gender essentialist trope ("you can always tell when a man is pretending to be a woman!") despite how much of the story tackles a kind of gender fluidity amongst other characters. I said I’d return to it once I reread it again to see how I felt reading those bits in context, so here I am!

The first instance of Xie Lian cross-dressing in the story is during the very first mission: the ghost bride. In order to find out who is kidnapping brides in the area, Xie Lian dresses like a bride to act as bait. When he first gets dressed, this is how he is described:

If you asked anyone to come and see, they would be able to tell with a glance that this was a young boy with a gentle and handsome looking face.

—Chapt. 6: The Ghost Holds a Wedding, The Crown Prince Climbs Onto the Marriage Sedan (Part 1)

You can "tell" that he is still a man, even as he wears the wedding outfit, we are told. However, later on, Little Ying comes and helps fix up Xie Lian so that he looks more like a bride. When next the others see his face, this is how he is described:

How could Xie Lian have known that a girl’s skill in make-up created legendary and mystifying results? Little Ying had only taught him how to fix his eyebrows by drawing them elegantly, how to powder his face with some white powder and how to dot his lips with deep, red rouge. However, if he didn’t speak, Xie Lian looked exactly like a gentle, soft and beautiful young lady.

—Chapt. 9: The Mountain’s Locked Ancient Temple, The Forest of Hanging Corpses (Part One)

A little bit of makeup and reshaping his outfit has transformed Xie Lian from someone you could tell was a man "from a glance" to someone who "looked exactly like a gentle, soft, and beautiful young lady." Even the crowd of men acting as "guards" could not tell Xie Lian was a man, and at no stage in this entire arc is Xie Lian uncomfortable with the act of cross-dressing, at being honestly mistake for being a woman, or Mu Qing and Feng Xin's negative reactions. He is indifferent to it all.

The next major moment we see him cross-dressing is when he is running away from the group of cultivators hunting Hua Cheng:

Behind the curtains sat a woman, her long raven hair hung a loose bun, her neck slender and white with a black choker and a thin silver chain circled around. Her robe was half stripped, revealing her snow white shoulder and a small bit of her back, looking to drape and fall, making one’s face burn and heart race.

When the curtains were pulled, the figure of that woman trembled, covering her face with her sleeves, and whimpered softly, as if she was shocked and terrified by such a sudden and brutish act. Heaven’s Eye instantly dropped the curtains, “I-I-I-I-I-I’M SORRY!!!”

The band of monks and cultivators who followed after Heaven’s Eye all screamed too, “WHAT A SIN, WHAT A SIN!” And they all covered their own eyes. Using this chance, that ‘woman’ whipped around -- who else could it be but Xie Lian? Hua Cheng was sitting in his arms and was only blocked from view by Xie Lian’s body. Although Xie Lian was a man and his shoulders were wider than the average woman, but he only pulled down half of his robe to expose the best angle, creating the perfect effect.

—Chapt. 137: Upon Barren Hills; Rioting the Black Hearted Inn (Part One)

Just as with the makeup and reshaping of the bride outfit, wearing a woman's robe, stripping to show off some skin at an angle, and whimpering a little was enough to trick this group of men into thinking he was a woman. The cultivators are so embarrassed, they run away, but even the passerbies who catch a glimpse of Xie Lian fleeing later in that same outfit have the vague idea that it is a "woman" they're seeing running with a child. Then, in the same outfit, Xie Lian enters an inn and we get this hilarious interaction:

A moment later, the door opened, and several attendants came forward to greet, their faces full of smiles, “Good si...”

They had wanted to say ;good sir’, but seeing the person before them was wearing women’s robes, they changed, “Mis...”

Before the word left their lips, Xie Lian emerged fully from the darkness with Hua Cheng in hand. If there’s a child, then it wasn’t an unmarried lady, so they changed again, “Mada...”

‘Madam’ was still half on their lips and Xie Lian’s face was fully illuminated by the light within the inn. Although this person was dressed in women’s robes and had a gentle countenance, if they must be honest, no matter how they looked it was the face of a man. The attendants all became mute, and it was a good moment before they went back to their original greeting, “Good sir, please come inside.”

—Chapt. 137: Upon Barren Hills; Rioting the Black Hearted Inn (Part One)

None of the attendants are able to tell Xie Lian's gender just from a glance. They rely on context clues (his clothes, the fact that he's with a child, then finally, his bare face) to finally decide that he is a man. Xie Lian is not discomforted by this either, not even to correct them. In fact, the narrative says that he feels no mental or physical discomfort as he is. Mind you, in this world, it is established that gods can and do change their physical forms to match a certain gender, but despite having the power to do so, not only does Xie Lian not take this route but he is still able to successfully appear as a cis woman to both strangers and his closest friends with only the minimalist of effort. Neither he nor the narrative place any expectations on how he "should" feel being man mistaken for a woman, nor do they waste time trying to explain to other characters why he is dressed as one like what one would usually see with this trope. Xie Lian simply exists in the form most comfortable to him and changes minor appearances to produce the aesthetic that he needs when he needs it. No more explanation is needed.

The thing about Xie Lian, too, is that while he is assured in his own gender, this does not translate into him being adverse to either weaponizing gender to reach a certain goal (such as being bait in a mission or hiding from enemies or just finding a dangerous object) or others doing as they please. Shi Qingxuan repeatedly attempts to wheedle Xie Lian into transforming into a female form with him, but though Xie Lian refuses for himself, he never shows disgust that Shi Qingxuan prefers his female form, unlike other gods.

Due to all of this, I don't see the repeated mentions of Xie Lian's maleness within these cross-dressing scenes as meant to reinscribe the gender binary but, instead, to impress upon readers how simple it is to throw gender into question. Gender is just that malleable and its perception so easily manipulated that even one of the most manliest men in the story can be viewed without a shadow of a doubt as a woman. Xie Lian is proof.

[averyiconthequeen]

averyjameson: safe place

Might throw my phone away and go into hiding after posting this.

Jameson took a deep breath and closed his eyes. In this moment, everything felt too good, too peaceful.

There's a whole ocean in front of him, and a small house nearby that used to belong to his grandfather. He'd only been here once, when he was 10. Zara had brought him and his brothers here for a couple days to take their minds off the fact that Skye was gone again.

She did her best and he remembered the place as an island of serenity. He would always remember those couple of days on the beach with blankets, homemade lemonade, and stories around the campfire shared by his aunt.

No expectations, no competition. Just him, his brothers, and his aunt, whom he wished he appreciated much more.

Opening his eyes, Jameson looked at the sight in front of him. This place was breathtaking. The vast sea with its shimmering waves, the white sand that looked just like snow, light breeze gently caressing his face— all this atmosphere made it the perfect place for solitude.

But Jameson didn't want to be here alone. All he truly wanted was to share this place with someone who effortlessly takes his breath away every moment of his existence.

That someone was right beside him and he could swear that was all he'd ever needed. With her back leaning against his torso, Avery sat between his legs and watched the sunrise. Red-pink sky left beautiful hues on the water, and she just couldn't take her eyes off of it.

But the most beautiful view for him was her.

They have been here for a few days now and it was Jameson's idea to get away from everything and everyone for at least a couple days.

It's funny, because Jameson Winchester Hawthorne never runs from anything. But Avery hadn't been herself these past few weeks, and nothing was more important to him than getting this beautiful and sincere smile on her face again.

The final straw was when he found her in their room curled up in a bed and silently crying.

“Heiress, talk to me,” he lay down next to her and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Come on, baby, Tahiti.”

“It’s all just too much,” was all she said, letting him wrap his arms around her waist.

The truth is that even when you try to ignore comments on the internet, you will still pay attention to them. People won't shut up, they’ll keep pushing and making nasty comments about everything. Of course, they’ll do it after reposting a hundred of quotes on their pages about how the world is cruel and unfair and people need to be kinder to each other. They are hypocrites and like to hurt others and who knows their ugly reasons.

Of course, Avery could get used to it, but what the fuck? Why?

“She’s so phony, how do the Hawthornes put up with her?”

“Jameson looks like he doesn’t even wanna be here. They’re def faking it.”

“God save this man from this bitch, he doesn’t even love her”

She was getting very upset by these remarks, and Jameson was getting really pissed off by them.

He'd always wondered, how could anyone hate someone like Avery? She's the most generous, caring and precious person he's ever met. These people just have no right to say that shit about her.

Jameson hated seeing her in this state. So, he held her all night, whispering sweet nothings, stroking her hair. He thought about how he would do anything to take away her pain. He just wanted to protect her from it.

That's why they ended up here, why he insisted on taking a break from everything.

When they'd arrived a couple days ago, he'd made it a rule not to use phones, laptops, or anything to do with the Internet. Avery was too emotionally drained to complain, and neither did she want to. By the way, who needs a phone when you have Jameson Hawthorne around? When it came to distractions, this man knew everything and did everything. For Avery, however, it wasn't just a distraction, it was a safe place. Jameson was her safe place.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the sun rise. Avery knew this moment wouldn't have been so special if it hadn't been for the man beside her. And she was grateful for all the moments they shared here.

When your head feels like spinning and it's getting unbearable, this is what you really need.

Peace.

So she was just enjoying and memorizing every second of this moment. The sky, the sound of the waves, the air. His touch.

His fingers traced the mark on her collarbone left the night before, noticing the way her breath hitched at the contact.

“Alright, Heiress?” he asked, and she really wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face. Or maybe she didn’t.

God, she loved him. All he did was make sure she was happy and safe in mind and body. Although there were times when she didn't think of him as a protective boyfriend, she realized that in fact, he was one. And each time he succeeded, for a small amount of time, but he did. For now, she wasn't thinking about those disgusting comments about her and their relationship. All she had on her mind was the beautiful view in front of her and Jameson's kisses.

“I love you,” she smiled, thinking of it all.

“And I love you and this pretty smile of yours.”

They were so right for each other. They both knew it. Today, tomorrow, they’re it for each other. A safe place.