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alwaysmicado · 2 months

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we shouldn’t

2.9k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | one-shot

Warnings: 18+, no outbreak AU, alcohol, smut (but nothing too graphic), smooching, reader being a menace, fluff & the tiniest bit of angst Summary: Joel holds your hand after a night out. It makes you feel things you don’t want to feel. A/N: This little one-shot was very emotional for me to write, and I hope it’ll make you feel something, too. Can be read alone or as a prequel to part 1 within the fwb!Joel AU. Enjoy and let me know what you think! I love talking to you about these two! 🖤 series masterlist

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by an eagerness that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

– – –

The neon lights of the city blur into a kaleidoscope as Joel and you stroll down the crowded streets, the remnants of laughter and clinking glasses still echoing in your ears from the bar you just left. It’s a beautiful night—alive with a buzz, a mix of the city’s energy and the warmth that comes from a few too many drinks.

You’re giggling uncontrollably at something Joel said, your hands clasped over your belly as your sides hurt from laughing. You don’t even remember what he said that was so funny, but that doesn’t matter.

You’re having fun—as always when you’re with him.

Joel glances over at you with a lopsided grin, his eyes slightly glazed but still sparkling with mischief.

“You’re such a lightweight, darlin’,” he says, his words laced with genuine amusement. He chuckles as you continue to giggle, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “No more Long Island Iced Teas for you.”

You playfully roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, and delicately wiping away the happy tears spilling over.

“Oh, come on,” you quip, turning to him with an infectious grin. “Could a lightweight do this?”

Determined to prove him wrong, you theatrically hold out your arms and set one foot gracefully in front of the other, your pretend sobriety test turning into a whimsical dance along an invisible line on the floor.

“See?” you say excitedly—and perhaps a tad too loudly—before your own enthusiasm sends you stumbling over your own feet. Lucky for you, Joel’s reflexes kick in, and he effortlessly catches you before you can faceplant and hurt yourself.

“Easy there, baby,” he teases with a grin, his strong arms steadying you before pulling you into a tight embrace. “You’re just having too much fun tonight, huh?”

“S’not fair,” you slur against his chest, giggles bubbling up from deep inside you. “The world is spinning.”

Joel looks at you, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “That’s not–” he begins but stops himself, chuckling. “Well, actually, yes, you’re right. The world is spinning, baby.” He presses a soft kiss against your temple. “I got you though.”

Giggles subside into a contented sigh as you rest against Joel’s broad chest, the fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking in his warmth and his scent. “Mmm, you smell nice. How do you always smell so nice?”

Lifting your head, you gaze into his eyes with honest bewilderment and curiosity, your brow furrowed, as if this is the most perplexing mystery that needs unraveling.

“Reminds me of when we met. My clothes smelled like you when I got home that night.”

Joel’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you with a genuine sense of adoration, his heart warmed by the sincerity and carefree spirit that your drunken honesty radiates.

He’s obviously not going to tell you that he’s made sure to only ever use the aftershave you complimented him on the first night you spent together, but he’s secretly delighting in the fact that you still like it.

“Well, aren’t you sweet, darlin’,” he coos, an amused smile gracing his lips. “You were such a brat not even twenty minutes ago and now look at you. Tame as a little kitten.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You bite your lip and put your hands on his chest, your pupils so dilated your eyes are black.

You can still feel his fingers inside you.

Joel runs his hands up and down your back, a sensation that makes your knees weak. He bores his eyes into you and raises an eyebrow.

“I’m talking about you acting like a whore in that bar just so I’d make you come on my fingers.” His hands wander down to your ass, groping you, pulling you closer against his body. “You knew I’d fuck you when we got to your place, but you just couldn’t wait, huh?”

“Hmm, you love it,” you chuckle, pressing a soft kiss on his warm lips. “Don’t act like you’re not a total perv yourself. ‘Cause, you know, you are, and that’s why you just fingered me in a crowded bar. And that’s why you almost came in your pants. And that’s also why we get along so well.”

Joel grins at you, savoring the lingering sensation of your lips on his. “Touché, you little smartass.”

Your eyes drop to his mustache, perched proudly on his top lip. He’s shaved off the rest of his facial hair, and tonight’s the first time you’ve seen him like this. It suits him.

“You see something you like, baby?”

“I love your mustache. It’ so fucking hot,” you murmur, mesmerized, gently touching the little hairs above Joel’s lip with your fingertips. “Makes you look like an ‘80s pornstar.”

“You’re into that?” he chuckles, noting the particular fixation your inebriated brain has chosen this time—last time, it was the curve of his nose. You’re adorable.

“Fuck yeah. The only thing missing are assless chaps and a tight mesh shirt.” You wrap your arms around him and look into his beautiful brown eyes.

“Mmm, you never cease to surprise me, darlin’,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear before nibbling on your earlobe. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ass.”

You giggle and squeeze his cheeks to make a point, pulling away a bit to lock your lidded eyes on his. “Oh, you have no idea. I’ll tie you to your bed next time and show you if you want. Fair warning, though, I won’t be gentle.”

Joel’s eyes widen, his erection straining against the harsh fabric of his jeans.

“Careful, darlin’,” he growls into your ear, “if you can’t behave yourself, I’ll have to put you in your place. And I promise you, I won’t be gentle either.”

You can’t suppress the little moan that escapes your lips as Joel’s words go straight to your pussy. His scent, his deep voice, his broad body against yours, his dark eyes—it all has you melting in his arms, craving his touch. Badly.

“Can we go, please?” you plead, your tone carrying the unmistakable hint of neediness Joel loves to hear so much.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist, pulling you against his groin with a possessive grip.

You playfully roll your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m a bad, bad girl that needs to be punished—yada yada yada. Can we go now? Please?”

You pull away from his embrace with a cheeky smile and start tugging on his arm, urging him to move. Joel snorts at your impatience, thoroughly entertained by the frustrated little noises you make when he doesn’t budge.

One eyebrow raised and hands on your hips, you glare at him defiantly. You’re swaying a little now that he’s not holding you anymore.

“I’ll fucking run home and get myself off if you don’t get your ass in gear right now.”

“You still haven’t grasped the concept of asking nicely, huh? And after all this time I’ve tried to teach you,” he chuckles, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood and can’t wait to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He tilts your chin up with his thumb and index finger to search your eyes. To his satisfaction, he finds pure hunger in them. Your brain has completely shut off any and all functions except for imagining Joel taking you roughly in your bed. Or on your sofa. Or on the floor.

“Tell you what, you brat. You get a ten-second head start, and if I catch you before you reach that traffic light over there, you’re not allowed to touch me once you’re naked.”

“And if you don’t catch me?”

Joel needs to hold back his laugh at the ridiculous idea that you’d be faster than him.

“If I don’t catch you before the light, I’ll do that little dance you like so much.”

“Naked?” you ask with wide eyes.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, na–”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re running—clumsily, but fueled by a determination that outshines the haze of your drunkenness.

“–ked.”

The night air that envelops you is alive with laughter and the distant hum of the city as you stumble towards the traffic light, your unsteady steps dictated by the alcohol coursing through your veins. Your brain can’t decide between giggling and breathing, so you’re left with a side stitch and gasping for air after a few short seconds.

At least you had enough foresight to choose comfort over sexiness when you put on your sneakers tonight instead of your heels.

Joel’s eyes track you, captivated by the rhythmic sway of your legs beneath the hem of the short dress you’re wearing. Oh, how he can’t wait to feel your naked skin pressed against his. You’re always so soft, so warm, so receptive to his touch…

He snaps out of it, realizing the very real potential for a clumsy misstep, and joins the chase. His steps are more purposeful, not wanting you to trip and hurt yourself, especially not on his watch.

A few meters shy of the traffic light, he catches up, arms wrapping around you from behind. You squeal in surprise, a mixture of laughter and exhilaration bubbling up from deep inside you. Joel joins in, his laughter harmonizing with yours, as he triumphantly murmurs, “Got you” in your ear.

He sets you down gently and pulls you close as your heart is still racing, and presses his lips on yours in a deep, lingering kiss.

“Not fair,” you mumble against his lips with a pout. “And I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t dance for me.”

Joel sighs deeply, succumbing to the irresistible charm of your big puppy eyes.

“How about this, baby. You’re good and do what I say without talking back, and I’ll dance for you until you’re dizzy. Hm?”

“Okay, sounds fair,” you murmur, wanting nothing more than to get home quickly and rip his clothes off. Riling him up in the bar and coming all over his fingers was nice, but you’ve had far from enough.

“Good girl.”

As the traffic light shifts to green, Joel’s hand instinctively finds yours, not wanting to let you stumble across the street without him holding you. You don’t think too much about it, assuming he’ll let go once you’re on the other side.

Surprisingly, though, his grip persists, and he intertwines his fingers with yours.

It’s a gesture so simple, yet it simultaneously sobers you up and sends a ripple through the carefully constructed walls you’ve built around your emotions. Confusion colors your eyes as you steal a glance at him, and he meets your eyes with a warmth that makes your heart skip a beat.

You don’t like it.

This isn’t the casual arm around the shoulder or the hand on your hip. This feels like…more. Like something you’d only do in a relationship. Joel’s touch is warm and electric, and an unsettling realization dawns—the casual arrangement you’ve shared with him suddenly seems more complicated.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, feigning nonchalance, although your heart is doing somersaults.

“What do you mean?” Joel smirks, giving your hand a playful squeeze. “Just trying to keep you from stumbling into the bushes, baby. I’m a gentleman, you know.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach tell a different story. The truth is, you’ve been here before—caught in the crossroads of friendship and something more. It’s a delicate balance, and one you don’t want to upset.

Joel’s the best thing that has happened to you in a long time, and you don’t want to lose what you have. But you also care for him enough that you’d let him go if your arrangement didn’t make him happy anymore.

As you finally reach your apartment building, a nervous flutter sets your heart pounding in your chest. You clear your throat and subtly allow your fingers to slip away from Joel’s, feigning the need for both hands as you rummage through your purse in search of your key.

You follow Joel inside, deliberately averting your gaze, your eyes fixed on the glowing buttons as you summon the elevator. As you step inside the confined space, a wave of memories floods your mind, recalling the last time you’ve given in to your desires when the brief elevator ride felt too long to resist.

Joel knelt in front of you, skillfully drawing an orgasm out of you with his tongue while your fingers were tangled in his dark curls. Once he had his fill, he proceeded to throw you over his shoulder and fuck you in front of your living room mirror. You’ll never forget how he forced you to look at yourself with his hand wrapped around your neck.

You’re abruptly pulled back to the present as you feel Joel’s hand finding yours once again, trying to reassure you that he’s here if you need him. You look at him with a conflicted expression, torn between appreciating his caring gesture and the fear of disappointing him.

As you shuffle to your apartment door, Joel finally breaks the silence, his voice low and soothing, “Are you alright, darlin’? Do you feel sick?” His eyes search your face, concern evident in his furrowed brow.

“Nah, just a bit tipsy,” you reply automatically, your tone light as you lean against the wall.

However, when he starts tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, you’re unable to suppress the growing unease any longer. Tightness settles in your chest, accompanied by a fluttering sensation that dances beneath your ribcage.

“It’s just…I, uh,” you murmur, “I didn’t expect you to hold my hand is all.”

“Oh.” Joel’s gaze softens, and he releases your hand, the connection severed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, darlin’. I should’ve asked if you were okay with it, I’m sorry.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t like it. It’s just...it felt–” you cut yourself off and sigh deeply, turning around to open your apartment door. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Joel nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I understand, darlin’. Thank you for telling me.”

“I’m sorry,” you switch on the light in your living room and throw your purse onto your sofa. “I know it’s weird, but I really…we–we shouldn’t and I…I can’t–”

“Darlin’, hey,” he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “There’s no need for you to apologize, or explain for that matter.”

You turn around and take him in for a moment. His warm eyes, his soft smile, the cute little movements his hand makes when he’s nervous—he’s just so…sweet. You’re not used to a guy being so considerate of your boundaries, and it’s incredibly hard for you to believe that he actually means it and won’t use them against you once he’s tired of you.

You know it’ll happen at some point, but you’re okay with that. This isn’t meant to last.

“Do you, uh, still wanna stay for a nightcap?” you ask him with a hopeful smile.

“Of course I do, darlin’,” he says, tilting his head and looking at you curiously.

You open your arms, silently inviting him to draw you into a comforting embrace. You’re relieved when his response is immediate and eager.

“We’re on the same page, right?” he asks, a genuine smile on his lips as his dark eyes search yours. “We have fun, and I like spending time with you, but I want you to feel comfortable, too. If this,” he gestures between the two of you, “ever becomes more than you’re comfortable with, we talk about it. No pressure, no expectations. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.”

He pulls back slightly to gauge your reaction, his hand still gently resting on your waist.

“Sounds perfect, Joel,” you coo in response, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, would you please shut up and kiss me already.”

“Alright, alright, you brat,” Joel chuckles and cups your cheek with his warm hand, before leaning in and sealing the agreement with a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Mmm, I’m so happy I met you, darlin’,” he whispers. “You’re something else, you know?”

You look into his eyes, and there’s a sincerity in them that catches you off guard. You know you shouldn’t have sex with him right now, you know you should tell him to leave.

And yet, as soon as you feel his lips on yours again, more fervently this time, his hands exploring the contours of your back, drawing you close, the rational part of your mind fades away.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he breathes out before switching to kissing down your neck, the sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin making you whimper.

“I want you, Joel. I want you.”

– – –

Thanks for reading, guys!! 🤍

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naomeii · 3 months

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Hello! Here's my request:

Modern au where Childe and reader get into a particularly heated argument because he always comes back bloody, battered and bruised from a fight. Unfortunately, Childe ends up telling her he liked it better when she was ignoring him instead of nagging all the time, which shatters her heart. He tries to apologize but she's already out the door and staying over at her mother's house. Even when her mother reassured her that Childe does love her, it did little to heal her heart.

On the other hand, Childe was in shambles. He kept on trying to call, email, and text her but she won't pick up. He was left alone at their shared house, the meal she made had gone cold but he still ate it and yet, he didn't feel full. He ends up crying himself to sleep on their entryway.

The next day, reader returns to their home with the intention of packing up her things and leaving but is stopped by an exhausted Childe who follows her even when she tells him not to touch her. He notices her missing engagement ring (she had left it in their bedroom) and is terrified; he begs her not to leave him while sobbing and holding her tight. Eventually, his pleas were heard when she finally forgives him after he apologizes for snapping at her.

Metamorphosis.

—Pairing: Childe x F!Reader

Content: Modern au, angst to fluff, arguments

Childe's entrance into your shared apartment was marked by the tired shuffle of his boots against the floor. The faint odor of blood mixed with the antiseptic scent of a healing agent lingered in the air. He looked up, eyes shadowed with weariness, as you confronted him in the doorway.

"What happened to you this time, Childe?" Your voice was a mix of concern and frustration, and your eyes scanned his battered form with a mix of anger and worry. This had become a routine – him coming back battered and bruised, and you, waiting to pick up the pieces.

Childe sighed, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "It's part of the job, darling. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating."

Your jaw tightened at the dismissive response. "Part of the job doesn't mean you have to come back looking like you've been through a war every single time! Do you even care about how this affects me?"

Childe's tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was a flicker of remorse. "I liked it better when you just ignored me, you know? Instead of nagging all the time."

As the weight of his words sank in, you couldn't help but recall the days when Childe was indeed all over you. His playful antics, the way he made you laugh until tears streamed down your face, and the warmth of his love enveloping you. It was a stark contrast to the current reality, where his flippant remark shattered the remnants of those precious moments.

"Childe, what happened to us?" The question slipped out, laced with a mixture of pain and confusion. "You used to care about us, about me."

He avoided your gaze, a hint of guilt crossing his features. "It's just the way things are now. We both knew my life was dangerous."

A bitter chuckle escaped you. "I knew, but I never thought you'd grow indifferent. I miss the Childe who used to come home to me, not this stranger who treats me like a burden."

His eyes softened, but it was too late. The damage had been done. You turned away, tears threatening to spill. "I can't do this, Childe. Not if it means losing myself in the process."

As Childe desperately reached out for your hand, the door swung open, as you quickly left.

"Wait, please!" Childe's voice cracked with desperation, but you were out the door, oblivious to his pleas.

In your tear-streaked haze, you hailed a cab, directing it to your mother's house. The city lights blurred as you tried to make sense of the shattered fragments of your relationship. The cab's interior provided a temporary sanctuary, shielding you from the unresolved emotions that lingered at the doorstep of your shared home.

Arriving at your mother's house, the front door creaked open before you could even knock. Concern etched across her face, your mother pulled you into a tight embrace, her worry palpable.

"What happened, sweetheart?" she asked, guiding you inside.

Through choked sobs, you recounted the argument, the hurtful words, and the irreparable damage that had driven you away.

"Sweetheart, people say things they don't mean when emotions run high. Childe does love you; I'm sure of it. Relationships have their ups and downs, but love can overcome even the toughest moments."

Her words, meant to console, offered a lifeline in the storm of emotions. Yet, despite her reassurance, the ache in your heart persisted. The wounds were fresh, the echoes of Childe's indifferent words still reverberating within you.

"I know, Mom, but it just hurts so much," you whispered, tears welling up again.

She held you at arm's length, her gaze filled with concern. "Take your time, dear. Healing doesn't happen overnight. If he loves you, he'll realize the impact of his words and make amends."

On the other side, Childe's attempts to reach you knew no bounds. His phone buzzed with unanswered calls and texts, each message a desperate plea for forgiveness.

+𝟗𝟗 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐮𝐦 <𝟑 3:33 am Y/n, please, just pick up the phone. I'm so sorry. I never meant what I said. I love you more than anything. 4:32 am I'm an idiot, love. I messed up, and I need you to hear me out. Let's talk. Please. 4:45 am ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10 (Hey, dummy. I know I screwed up. I didn't mean any of it. I miss you... Can we just talk?)

The echoes of your silence were deafening. Each attempt to reach you felt like shouting into the abyss, the void swallowing his words.

Returning to the shared house, the remnants of your presence lingered. The cold meal you had prepared sat untouched, a poignant reminder of a time when warmth filled the home. Childe mechanically picked at the food, each bite a tasteless reminder of the void that now enveloped him.

The once-familiar walls seemed to close in as he wandered through the silent rooms. The solitude amplified the weight of his regret, and a profound loneliness settled over him. Despite filling his stomach, an emptiness gnawed at his insides.

Tears welled up, and he crumpled to the entryway floor, the place where the love you both had built now reduced to a battleground of hurtful words. The cool surface provided little comfort as he cried himself into an exhausted slumber, the entryway serving as a painful witness to the wreckage of a love he feared might be irreparably broken.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you cautiously returned to your shared home. The air hung heavy with the residue of the previous night's turmoil. With a determined resolve, you planned to pack your things and spend some time with your mother until the wounds of the argument had a chance to heal.

The moment you stepped into the entryway, you noticed a disheveled Childe, still draped in the shadows of sleep. His eyes, red-rimmed from crying, widened in surprise at your presence.

"Y/n…" His voice wavered, a mix of regret and exhaustion lacing his words.

"I'm here to pack my things, Childe," you stated, avoiding eye contact.

His eyes pleaded with you, but you remained steadfast. "Please, love, let's talk. I need you to understand."

"No, Childe. We've said enough," you replied, your voice firm. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, but you were determined not to let it sway your decision.

As you began gathering your belongings, Childe, propelled by a mixture of desperation and a genuine desire to make amends, rose from the floor. He moved closer, his hand reaching out involuntarily.

"Don't touch me, Childe," you warned, your eyes flashing hurt.

Childe's heart sank as he continued to trail behind you, the weight of your silence pressing down on him. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and he winced at the palpable pain in your voice when you told him not to touch you.

His eyes were red and swollen from the tears that had stained the entryway floor the night before. Yet, a glimmer of hope flickered within him, fueled by the desperate need to salvage what was left of the love that once filled their home.

As he followed you through the house, his eyes caught sight of your left hand. The familiar glint of the engagement ring was conspicuously absent. Panic seized him as he realized its absence, the realization hitting him like a punch to the gut.

"Y/n, where's the ring?" His voice trembled with a mix of fear and desperation.

You glanced at him briefly, the weight of your gaze heavy with unspoken words. "It's in the bedroom. I left it."

Childe's heart raced as he hurried to the bedroom, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. The room, once a sanctuary of shared dreams, felt haunted by the shadows of fractured promises.

He found the ring on the dresser, its absence from your finger a stark reminder of the fragility of the bond they had built. The intricate design, a symbol of their commitment, now seemed like a fragile artifact of a love slipping through his fingers.

Fear gripped him, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a tidal wave. He returned to find you near the front door, the distance between you growing wider with each passing moment.

"Y/n, I—I can fix this. I'll do whatever it takes. Please, don't go," he pleaded, the vulnerability in his voice bared for you to see.

As you moved towards the door, a determined resolve etched across your face, Childe's hand shot out, instinctively reaching for you. He caught your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. His eyes pleaded with yours, mirroring the desperate turmoil within him.

"Y/n, please, I beg you… don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking.

You paused, feeling the grip on your wrist, the pull of emotions warring within you. Childe's sobs echoed in the silent room, the raw vulnerability he displayed tearing down the walls you had erected around your wounded heart.

"Childe, you can't fix this with just words," you said, your own voice wavering with the weight of the situation.

His grip softened, fingers slipping from your wrist to intertwine with yours. "I know… I know, but let me try. I love you, and I can't bear the thought of losing you."

His tears fell freely, staining the floor beneath him. The vulnerability he exhibited, coupled with the sincerity in his eyes, created a tumultuous whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you.

"I can't promise anything, Childe," you said, gently trying to disentangle your hand from his. "But I need time to think, away from this… chaos."

Childe, however, held on tighter, his sobs intensifying. "I messed up, Y/n. I don't want to lose you. Please, just stay. Let me try to make things right."

The conflicting emotions battled within you as Childe's sobs reverberated in the room. Despite the anger, hurt, and the shattered trust, a deep well of love still lingered within your heart. The sight of him crumbling before you, laid bare in vulnerability, tugged at those lingering threads of affection.

Taking a deep breath, you relented. Your free hand reached out, gently cupping Childe's tear-stained cheek. Your touch, though soft, held the weight of both love and reproach.

"Childe, stop crying," you whispered, your voice a delicate plea.

His tearful eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world outside their shared turmoil seemed to fade away. The touch of your hand, wiping away his tears, bridged the emotional chasm that had grown between you two.

"I love you, but this can't be fixed overnight," you admitted, your tone a delicate balance of firmness and compassion.

Childe nodded, his grip on your hand relaxing.

In the days that followed, the atmosphere in your shared home transformed. Childe, once a tempest of chaos and unpredictability, began to change. The realization of the pain he had caused you, coupled with the fear of losing the love he cherished, became a catalyst for a profound transformation.

His actions spoke louder than words. Childe started attending therapy, seeking guidance to navigate the complexities of his emotions and learn healthier ways to cope with the challenges that came with his role in the Fatui. The reckless impulsivity that once defined him began to give way to a more measured and thoughtful approach.

The wounds of the argument were still fresh, and trust needed time to mend, but Childe's commitment to change became evident in his actions. He took on a more active role in maintaining the home, shared responsibilities with newfound diligence, and made genuine efforts to communicate openly.

Gone were the days of recklessness overshadowing your relationship. Childe, now more attuned to your needs and the impact of his words, worked tirelessly to rebuild the connection that had weathered the storm.

While the scars of the past lingered, the metamorphosis within Childe created a sense of hope.

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babyblue711 · 17 days

Text

Surrender

Aegon II Targaryen (Modern AU) x Reader Summary: Helaena invites you to the Targaryen countryside estate for a relaxing weekend away from the city where you form an unexpected connection with her older brother, Aegon. Words: 4.2K

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, Language, Alcohol, Aemond being uptight A/N: I just want to give a quick shout out to the authors who have the amazing ability to write well thought out, smutty one-shots and somehow magically keep it under 3K words. YOU ALL are incredibly talented and I wish I could do the same. The smut alone is over half this fic. I tried to keep it short, y'all, I really did. Anyway, this is my first time writing for Aegon. As I said in a previous post, this story is incredibly self indulgent but thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy! 🔥 💙 Beta read by the wonderful: @myfandomprompts

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warm water pours over your head and down your back as you rinse the shampoo out of your long hair; the fragrance of your favorite soap washing away the remnants of the day’s activities. Yet, within the confines of your mind, memories unfold like scenes from a movie.

Each moment is vivid and alive; seeing him atop his grey gelding as he waits for you to mount his brother’s tall, dark bay mare; your knees almost touching with his as your horses walk side by side down the winding trail.

You recall the admiration in his smile as he looks over at you, observing the way you sway with your horse’s long stride with ease; your mutual love for horseback riding came as a surprise to you both. The brief ride had come to a halt all too soon, as ominous storm clouds gathered on the horizon. Just a mile away from the barn, you jointly decided to turn for home.

You can still feel the wind in your hair as you and Aegon galloped back to the barn, trying to outrace the storm as thunder clapped in the distance. Laughter spilled from your lips at the thrill of the speed of your horse and your worries seemed to melt away with each leaping stride. It had been years since you had felt so light and carefree.

Luckily, you had arrived back at the barn just as the rain began to fall, giving your horse a grateful pat while reluctantly handing him off to the attending groom; Aegon seemed exhilarated from the ride as well as the two of you began to exchange lighthearted banter about your spontaneous adventure. Among your group, only you had embraced the opportunity to ride with him, given it was your favorite childhood pastime that you rarely got to enjoy as an adult. Everyone else had decided to retire to the house to get ready for dinner.

Amused, you watched as he bends to pet the barn cat weaving between his legs, wondering why you had never seen this side of him before. Because he is your best friend’s older brother, a small voice answered in the back of your mind. When you first met Helaena at uni, your perception of Aegon was clouded by his reputation for being frequently drunk, arrogant, and unpredictable, and you assumed that was all there was to him. However, after spending the weekend with the Targaryen siblings at their countryside estate, you began to wonder if there was more to him than met the eye.

Standing together in the doorway of the barn, easy conversation continued as you waited out the storm and you couldn’t help but feel impressed by Aegon's charm and clever banter, more so than you'd like to admit. The rain intensified, accompanied by a cool breeze which caused you to shiver slightly. He moved closer as if to shield you from the cool air, thunder clapping overhead. Heat radiated off his skin, giving you goosebumps as an electric charge zings through the atmosphere and you’re unsure if it's caused by the lightning or his sudden proximity. Your eyes flicked up to his face.

“Cold?” Aegon had said, his full lips curling into a perfect one-sided smirk. You locked eyes with him for a heartbeat too long and suddenly you’re melting into his dark blue gaze.

Flashing back to the present, you feel a blush bloom on your cheeks as you remember what had happened next. Still in the middle of your shower routine, you close your eyes and his face materializes in front of you again. With perfect clarity, you recall his damp blonde hair tousled by the wind, his sun-kissed skin, his warm, soft lips.

The kiss that had transpired was completely unexpected, but had felt so absolutely right in the moment. It was tender and slow and sweet. You remembered the gentle way his hand cupped your face when he pulled away, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. Your heart pounded in your chest and words eluded you in that moment, lost in the whirlwind of emotions stirred by his kiss.

The rest of the evening had passed in a blur, the storm blowing over just as quickly as it began. Dinner with the Targaryens was always an interesting affair because their personalities were so entirely opposite of one another. The youngest sibling, Daeron, had obviously decided to take a leaf out of Aegon’s book and had already plowed through several beers by the time you walked back up to the house. Helaena immediately took you to the side to show you a picture of a ladybug she had drawn while you had been out riding, and Aemond brooded silently in the corner with a book.

Meanwhile, you and Aegon seemed to have an unspoken agreement not to mention anything to the others which suited you just fine. The kiss had been too unexpected, too private, just meant for the two of you. His siblings did not need to know about any of his extracurricular activities, especially when it involved their sister’s best friend.

Unbidden, butterflies had formed in your stomach for the rest of the evening and you could hardly eat. What was wrong with you? This sort of reaction was something you would expect of a silly school girl and you had to remind yourself that you were a grown ass woman and could do as you please without catching feelings. Your last relationship had ended poorly and you were still trying to recover from it. The drama, the heartbreak, the endless cycles of disappointment—it was exhausting. Before today, guys like Aegon were the exact reason you had sworn off dating and relationships, choosing to fiercely embrace your freedom and independence instead.

Yet here you sat, unable to stop thinking about the perfect shape of Aegon’s lips. When had he changed so much? Or had he been this way all along and you just hadn’t noticed? Gone was his arrogance and, in its place, a seemingly gentle and caring soul. It was the first time in a long while that you felt a genuine connection with the opposite sex. His kiss had reminded you of the excitement of a new fling, the rush of emotions, and the intoxicating feeling of being wanted, of feeling desirable.

Wary of these feelings, you decided to prioritize your own well-being and enjoy the moment for what it was—a fleeting spark of connection—and you wouldn't let it consume you or lead you down a path you weren't ready for.

Except, you hadn’t anticipated that Aegon wouldn’t be on the same page as you. Although both of you were resolutely acting like nothing happened, subtlety, he offered to clear your plate from the dinner table and then brought you another beer unasked, surprising you with his sudden thoughtfulness. You secretly hope his attentiveness goes unnoticed by the rest of his family.

Luckily, Daeron is immersed in his own world of revelry, acting as if he’s in competition with himself to drink the most beer, or perhaps aiming to match Aegon’s former partying ways. Helaena, more adept at picking up social cues, pretended not to notice, but Aemond’s intense stare tells you all you needed to know of his suspicions as his eyes flicked back and forth between you two.

At last, you excused yourself for the evening to shower and go to bed, desperate to find some peace with your inner turmoil by getting away from the group and from him.

Now, drying your hair with a towel, you finally feel relaxed from the chance to clear your head. Dressed in a loose fitting t-shirt and shorts, you emerge from your bathroom and survey the opulent bedroom, grateful for securing one of the best rooms in this expansive house. Your balcony doors are open to let in the warm summer breeze, cooled slightly from the earlier rain. Enticed by the twinkling of the stars that you never get to see in the city, you step outside onto the balcony and gaze up at the night sky, oblivious to someone approaching you from behind.

“Penny for your thoughts?” His deep voice sends your heart into your throat as you jump and whirl to face him.

“Aegon!” you exclaim, with a mixture of annoyance and relief. “You have to stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” he asks with a wolfish grin and you roll your eyes at his feigned innocence.

“Surprising me unexpectedly,” you almost growl in response and his grin grows wider as he gives a nonchalant shrug.

“Oh, I think you like surprises,” he says easily, coming to lean on the railing next to you and observing the sky.

You roll your eyes again and choose not to comment as you look out onto the dark grounds, suddenly conscious that you aren’t wearing a bra and the air is cool. Quickly crossing your arms over your chest, you contemplate what to say to him for a moment and opt to cut to the chase.

“What do you want, Aegon?” you say with a sigh, trying to act as if you truly didn't care. His response is immediate and direct, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You," he purrs, his deep blue eyes seem to pierce you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. There’s a darkness in his stare, a hunger, a need, a longing. Tension crackles like lightning in the air.

Your heart jolts with delight at his words, just as conflicting thoughts invade your mind. Your breakup was still relatively fresh and you weren’t fooled by what he meant by “you”. Is that something you were ready for?

Instantly, your doubt is questioned by an opposing voice in your head that counters with, “But you have needs too, as much as you keep denying yourself. If you wanted to have a one night stand then, why not? He was familiar at least. You deserve to have some fun. When was the last time you had sex?”

Mentally, you think you’ve made a good argument with yourself, until the rational side of your brain reminds you delicately of your choice to swear off men and be happy to live a life free of their soul-sucking ways, remembering the toll your ex had taken on you mentally, emotionally and physically over the years.

But it doesn’t have to be like that anymore, the opposing voice reasons irresistibly in your other ear. You hold the power. You know your worth.

This quick mental battle between your righteous consciousness and lustful desires happens in an instant, but Aegon looks like he knows exactly what internal struggle you are having as he steps closer to you, crowding your space without asking permission, tilting your chin up with his forefinger, the glow of the moon casting a soft light on his face.

“Let me remind you of what you’re missing,” he whispers seductively against your lips, reading you perfectly. He begins the kiss gently, his lips exploring yours before deepening the connection with his tongue. Taking a fistful of your damp hair at the back of your neck, he holds you in place against him as he continues to kiss you passionately. You're enveloped in his taste, his scent, his presence; the musky fragrance of his shampoo only serves to heighten your desire for him.

After a few moments, you feel yourself melt into him, a soft moan escaping your lips as you push your chest into his, nipples hard underneath your t-shirt. All rational thought is wiped clean from your mind as you make your decision.

Breaking the kiss, you take his hand and lead him back inside to stand next to your high, ornate bed. Not one to waste time, lest you change your mind, you grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling it over his head as yours follows suit. His dark gaze drinks in the sight of your bare breasts and he moves towards you as if in a trance, dipping his head to clamp his lips on your collarbone. You move your neck to the side and hum low in your throat as your hands explore the muscles of his broad back.

Within a few moments, you feel him tugging at your shorts, his touch deft and confident as he loosens the drawstrings. They fall to the ground, leaving you only in your thin, silk panties. His large hands slide down your hips and over your ass, and suddenly, he picks you up and throws you effortlessly onto the bed.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Aegon is on top of you again, his body pressing against yours with a delicious weight. You feel his hunger, his desire, as he devours you with an intensity that leaves you gasping for more. Every touch, every kiss, every caress, sends electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your veins. His touch intoxicates you, numbing your mind better than any drug ever could. When was the last time someone had made you feel this good?

An ache starts to form between your legs and you rock your hips upwards, against Aegon’s erect length through his shorts. He hums while kissing his way down your body, suckling at your breasts, skimming your ribs with his teeth, biting your hip bones as he journeys downward, devouring your curves as he goes. At last, his face rests between your legs where he gently kisses the insides of your thighs.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispers fervently as he hooks his fingers into the waistline of your panties. You lift your hips and he removes your underwear, finally bearing you to him completely.

“So wet for me already,” he murmurs as he gazes at your sex, slick with desire for him. You start to feel self conscious at the hungry way he is looking at you, closing your knees to his line of sight. His eyes flick back up to your face, now dark pools of lust as he removes his own shorts and comes to lay naked next to you on the bed. You glance down at his cock before his lips take hold of yours again and your breath catches in your chest once more. My god, you think, was it a trick of the dim light or is he really that big?

The thought is quickly swept from your mind as he continues kissing you for several minutes, kneading your breasts and rubbing your sides and hips and you decidedly become more impatient than him, a desperate ache between your legs and you reach for his length but he grabs your wrist firmly to stop you, smiling lightly.

“You first,” he whispers and pushes you back onto the bed so that you rest on your back; his hand trails down your stomach and runs along your inner thigh. Your breasts rise and fall with each quickened breath, anticipating what's next.

Feeling like you burst into flames from all the sexual tension, touch me already! resonates loudly inside your head. Finally, his fingertips brush over your slick folds and he gives a low moan of appreciation. You mewl pathetically and arch your back, needing more friction as he expertly rubs circles around your bud.

“More, Aegon, please,” you aren’t even embarrassed to be begging so early on. He chuckles lightly in response and blessedly acquiesces as he slips a finger inside you, quickly followed by another. He pumps his fingers in and out for a moment and returns to kissing you deeply. Pleasure begins to overload your brain until nothing is left but him. The smell of his skin, the taste of his tongue, the stretch of your pussy as his fingers move deep inside you, so much thicker than yours, reaching so much deeper than you ever could yourself.

With his palm set on your bud, fingers buried deep, he sets a steady rhythm, stroking that sweet spot inside you while his face is buried into your neck. You grip the back of his hair and close your eyes, gasping as pleasure builds deep from within. It doesn’t take long until your breathing picks up as the coil tightens inside, causing you to pant and lose whatever dignity remained to you as you start to mumble incoherent nonsense, willing Aegon not to stop his pace as the pleasure mounts.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” Aegon moans into your ear and your climax crashes over you in one enormous wave as you soar to ecstasy. You clap your hand over your mouth to stifle your wail of pleasure, just in case anyone else in the house could hear you cumming loudly. Aegon grunts from beside you as your pussy clamps down onto his fingers and you think you hear him whisper “fucking hell” very softly, but you are too lost in mindnumbing bliss to pay attention. He continues his rhythm as the waves crash over you and doesn’t stop until you have to push his hand away, on the brink of overstimulation. You lay panting next to him, trying to catch your breath, realizing it has been years since the last time a man has made you cum so hard.

Aegon rolls onto his back and begins to stroke his length, covering himself in your slick as he waits for you to regain control of your senses. Recovering slightly, you glance down and realize you didn’t just imagine it, he really was impressively large, bigger than any of your exes. You prop yourself onto your side next to him and boldly take him in hand, causing him to smirk. As if you were drunk from the ecstasy of your peak, you can’t stop the words that tumble from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you practically slur at him and his cheshire cat grin widens.

“I think I may have heard that before,” he quips, sounding amused, while running his nose along your jawline, his breath hot against the skin of your neck, “But don’t worry, it’ll fit.” A slight moment of panic flutters in your heart, you were no virgin but you certainly had never handled that before.

Aegon rolls on top and you cringe inwardly, not from worry about his size but rather remembering this was your ex's favorite position because it gave him a sense of power over you. Dark memories interrupt your excitement as they flash like lightning through your mind. But that worthless fool had never made you cum as hard as Aegon just had; he normally hadn’t worried if you came at all. With an enormous effort, you push the intrusive thoughts out of your mind and focus on the present moment.

Mentally, you completely let go and surrender to Aegon... it felt so good for once. To let someone else take the lead, to let go of control, to not have to think, to not have to do anything but allow him to consume you.

You spread your legs and welcome him eagerly as his hips come to rest lightly on yours. You squirm underneath him as your nails rake along his back and down over his ass, causing him to shudder slightly as he continues to kiss along your jawline to your earlobe.

“Aegon, I’m on birth control,” you whisper in his ear as you rub your slick folds along the length of his hard, thick cock.

“Hmm, good,” he hums into your mouth as he grinds back against you, “Because I wanna see your pussy overflow with my cum,” he inserts his tongue into your mouth for emphasis, swallowing your heady moans.

You lift your hips as you feel Aegon guide the tip of his cock to your entrance, unable to stop your gasp as he pushes slowly inside. The intense stretch wipes everything from your mind and if you were being honest with yourself, it feels like the first time all over again, albeit more exciting now. Holy shit…holy fucking shit! is all you can think as he slides in slowly and you wonder if not having sex for a long time makes you a born-again virgin.

Aegon, to his credit, doesn’t thrust roughly into you, rocking gently instead, getting a little deeper with each stroke as you attempt to breathe through your nose and will yourself to relax and open up for him. At last, he bottoms out inside of you and you’ve never felt so full before in your life. He rolls his hips into yours and you moan at the sensation as his thick cock dragging along your soft velvet walls. You pant and mewl underneath him, hands wrapping around his biceps that have your head caged in. After a few slow strokes, you find yourself adjusting to his size and you can’t help but beg for more.

“More, Aegon, please - harder,” you whine.

“Impatient, are we?” he teases and picks up the pace but only a little and you know he’s savoring the moment. He pulls himself almost all of the way out before sliding back in with long, slow, deep strokes. Your hips start to rise to meet his own, willing him to go faster. On the next stroke his hips snap into yours, causing you to gasp at the pleasure that courses through your slick pussy, sending electric currents through your chest as he starts to earnestly fuck you into the bed.

Unable to control the uninterrupted moans of pleasure, you cover your mouth again, thankful, at least, that the heavy framework of the bed is sturdy and does not make so much as a squeak despite his deep thrusts. He frowns down at you, roughly removing your hand from your mouth in displeasure, squeezing your wrist harshly, but the pain only enhances your pleasure.

“Stop doing that. I want to hear you scream,” he says gruffly through puffs of his own heavy breathing.

Suddenly, he pulls out and leans back on his heels, flipping you over and bringing your ass in the air. He re-enters you and grabs your hair, holding your head back as he roughly thrusts into you from behind. You're breathless at the unexpected change in position but moan lustfully as he slaps your ass hard with a large hand, releasing his grip on your hair to take hold of your hips, pistoning even faster. The sound of skin slapping together erotically fills the room as pleasure coils deep in your belly.

“That’s it, babygirl, taking my cock so well,” he growls as his hands squeeze your ass cheeks so hard you think you’ll have bruises.

You whine noisily at his praise while reaching your hand down to play with your bud, knowing you can cum again in this position with a little extra friction. Aegon can feel your pussy fluttering around his cock as your breathing picks up again, another climax approaching quickly. He grunts and pants as he nears his own release.

As your walls spasm around him, you cry out again, your orgasm ripping through your core, clenching down on his thick length. He groans as he rides out your peak for as long as he can, thrusting harshly into you one last time as he pours himself deep within. You can feel his thick cock pulsate inside you, milked by your clenching pussy, and find that you love the thought of him filling you with his spend.

As he withdraws, he pulls your ass cheeks apart, admiring the mess he’s made of you, enjoying the sight of his cum leaking from your cunt. At last, you collapse onto the bed, utterly spent but entirely well-fucked, perhaps the most satiated you had ever been in your whole life.

You lay, breathing heavily, trying to regain your strength, when strong arms come to cradle you as Aegon scoops you up and lays you gently back on the bed in a more dignified position, pulling the covers up and over you.

He slips into bed beside you and snuggles close. In comfortable silence, you both savor the intimate connection, skin to skin, listening to the rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of your heart. Nestled securely in his embrace, your eyelids begin to droop, and just as you teeter on the edge of sleep, a gentle kiss brushes across your forehead.

Daylight filters through the balcony's glass doors, gently rousing you from sleep. It takes a moment for the vivid memories of last night to flood your mind. You find yourself still unclothed under the sheets, yet the bed is empty beside you. Letting out a soft groan, you stretch your sore muscles, contemplating how you were going to face Aegon that day. Are you both going to continue to pretend like nothing happened?

Automatically, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and see there’s a text, not from Aegon but from Aemond. Confusion swirls in your mind as you tap it open.

[Aemond]: Look. My bedroom is right next to yours. Could you keep it down next time?

You could practically feel his irritation and you blush, mortified. Fuck, had you really been that loud? You knew the answer to that was a resounding “yes” because you hated being quiet, but you had really hoped the expansive house would have muffled some of the noise. Shit.

Feeling guilty, you start to type back an apology but then decide sex is nothing to be ashamed of and you were going to have fun teasing rigid, proper Aemond.

[Y/N]: Join us next time, then? 😉

A/N: It was the HOTD trailer that pushed me over the edge for Aegon, but y'all can thank these photos from TGC's IG for the inspiration for this story.

#house of the dragon #aegon smut #aegon fanfic #aegon targaryen #modern au aegon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #tom glynn carney

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whispereons · 9 months

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 12

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 11, Part 13

Putting this early so y'all got something to read while waiting for Fontaine. Gl on wishing/saving!

Warning! This is SAGAU which is yandere, plus my story is imposter au which makes things even worse. You can expect detailed descriptions of sensitive topics like blood in this chapter.

The water is still as Mountain Shaper relays your claim to the other adepti. The cutting gaze they have is deflected by that calm expression you wear.

"Then before we deal with them, let's wrap up the situation with the children." Ganyu speaks softly as her eyes move past your form with wariness.

Xingqiu and Chongyun relax at the sight of Ganyu.With her around, the punishment from the adepti should be prevented.

"Thank you both for coming to save the children, and I'm sorry we weren't in time to help that poor boy. I'm afraid I'll have to burden you both with the task of bringing them back to the city. This would be quite a big deal, especially for you, Xingqiu, as the son of such a prestigious family."

Xingqiu freezes up at the mention of his family while Ganyu takes out a notepad. She writes something on it and hands it over to him.

"This is a brief report on what happened, your cover up is that I asked you to bring them back home. You and your friend will have to give a report to the Millelith and when I get back, I can finish the report. I can get the needed information from your... teammate."

The skepticism and slight disgust in her voice makes it perfectly clear what she thinks about you. She didn't even want to thank you for participating in saving the children.

Ganyu is an adepti, even if she is half human, and that is why she has some of that signature arrogance. She always did jump to conclusions; like how she attacked that Fatui skirmisher that was berry picking. Her arrogance only makes it harder for her to change her mind until it's nearly too late.

Xingqiu smiles politely but the twitch in his eyebrow as he accepts the note says it all. Chongyun's face visibly sours but he keeps quiet. They both turn to you, silently asking if it's okay for them to leave you here.

Your lips stretch into a cheery smile and you give them a thumbs up. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just make sure Yiran gets to her father and that the mother of that poor boy gets his body."

They leave with the children clinging to them, the children still have remnants of tears in their eyes. You can only silently command Teyvat to make their journey back to the city as safe as possible.

"One knows not why this interloper is not already decaying at our feet. Surely any being that claims such a frivolous thing deserves to be sacrificed to the glorious Creator."

Rude as always, Cloud Retainer is the first to ignite the hatred for you. In Genshin she was always comedic relief after the Archon quest but it's different with your current position.

"Don't be so quick to see to my death, Cloud Retainer. Surely Mountain Shaper has already told you what secret information I know about you all." You smoothly comment.

"The young herbalist is not impossible to hold information on, it's the scent of Teyvat on you that led me to not kick you off my mountain." Moon Carver interferes calmly. You get the sense that he's the most curious on who you are in contrast to the rest that just want you to die.

"Like I said, I'm an Oracle for the Creator themself. Surely you aren't going to doubt Teyvat in who it chooses to embrace."

"Mimicry is a common tactic among evildoers like yourself. Perhaps you're a demonic spirit from the old war hiding in human flesh. It would suffice as an explanation for the way you used that little girl to buy time for yourself."

Mountain Shaper pushes the agenda of some evil lurking within you. Honestly, it's starting to annoy you but becoming emotional would only fuel them further.

"I only spoke to Yiran so rashly due to your stupid rules. Who focuses on intruders that you clearly saw came for the children instead of the terrified young girl? She was scared from the massacre and felt responsible for that boy's death. That same dead boy’s mother that you proceeded to insult."

"And why should we concern ourselves with the folly of humans?"

"I'm not asking you to. I'm saying that you should at least allow the other humans to help those children, yet you treat adults and children like they have the same mental capacity. Not surprising as adepti couldn't possibly understand the complexity of humanity but it’s still quite disappointing that you cannot even see the logic."

Your words earn you a sharp amber tearing into the skin of your left arm. A low curse escapes you as you yank the injured arm away from the crimson painted amber. Examining the wound with a grimace, you apply pressure to slow the bleeding. The puncture wound lets your blood stain the clothing and drip off.

It didn't go all the way through but in certain areas your vein and arteries can be seen. Not broken, just exposed and so very painful. Resisting the tears, you dig into your bag with your good hand for the medical kit.

As you clean and wrap up your wound, you can hear the adepti arguing.

"What are you doing you old coot? One was looking to expose their lies, not attack in such a haste. Now that filthy blood is staining my abode."

"Cloud Retainer is correct on this topic. As devoted worshippers of our caliber, having the ability to unravel the demonic lies is true proof of our strength."

It's so funny, you almost want to laugh in their faces. 'Filthy blood'? Your blood is the one that they worship like salvation. 'Demonic lies?' Isn't the Creator's word's law and truth no matter the message?

That haughtiness that leads them to try beating you at your own game will be their downfall. You'll enjoy this new act. After all...

They're only the stepping stones for the showdown between you and the Geo Archon.

With a bandaged arm that sends dull aches and electrifying pain at intervals, you smile and speak in a sweet tone.

"Finished conversing yet? If you're ready to try exposing my nonexistent lie then get rid of this amber cage and let me show you firsthand why I'm the Creator's Oracle."

Your serene smile is met with sharp glares, distrustful eyes and a timid gaze that speaks first.

"And what proof or action will you show us?"

"Well, I have multiple ways, but illuminated beings like yourself will not be satisfied with that. You'll see it as a trick, a prepared prop to convince you all. So instead, why don't you ask me to do something or relay something to the creator? Something that you're positive I can't complete."

Beisht's scale seems to make your bag heavier with the reminder of its existence. But it's not time for it yet. The adepti only see Beisht as an enemy, that gamble isn't one you're willing to risk just yet.

"One would never ask you to pray to the creator and sully their ears with your sinful voice. One has a better idea on what you can do as 'proof'. As much as One hates to let you get closer, it is necessary to enter my abode."

Mountain Shaper seems to grumble as the other adepti force him to release you. Chains made of Geo and Dendro wrap around your wrists and tug you forward.

Were you truly that untrustworthy in their eyes? Four adepti against one human, the outcome is obvious, but you keep a leisurely pace behind them.

Cloud Retainer's domain-like door opens and once you all step inside, the door shuts with a loud bang. It's just like how you remembered it in the game.

An absolute confusing mess.

Ganyu and Cloud Retainer cross the barely hanging rock bridge with ease, Meanwhile Moon Carver and Mountain Shaper throw remarks at her.

"What is the meaning of such a mess? It's in even worse condition than when we visited 300 years ago."

"One's abode is not of your concern. It is normal for one to keep it in the environment that suits one's needs."

Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper continue to bicker back and forth as you are led through the turning platforms and transparent golden bridges.

"Maybe if a certain mortal had just accepted death as their punishment, we wouldn't have to be going through this disorganization."

As adepti, they probably could have just flown to the top where Cloud Retainers' main ruins are but as you are clearly human, they had to take the long way. They don't bother to keep that fact quiet but Moon Carver constantly saying that only makes you walk slower in pettiness.

The main ruin finally comes into view and you remember the initial conversation with Cloud Retainer when you had to discuss Morax's fake death. The door behind that never let players in, is now open.

Entering you are greeted with long hallways with inventions in different stages of creation littering it. Texts, and murals of different time periods cover the walls. Morax, Guizong, the Yaksha and even other adepti you don't recognize are there.

A left turn at a three way intersection goes to a large room decorated beautifully with feathers and gemstones alike. The image of you forming an egg that has brown scales and gold accents is the main centerpiece.

This must be how they believe you created Morax. Then does that solve the question on whether the egg or the chicken comes first?

Cloud Retainer stops in the middle of the room and spreads her wings to point at the sides of the room that are inscribed with text.

"Ever since One took residence in this abode, One has never been able to decipher the text, nor has any other being that got One's permission to enter this sacred room been able to decipher it. If you are truly the Oracle then surely you must be able to decode such scriptures."

"Then let's see just what message this scripture contains." Your proud words are all the bravado you need to walk past their eyes and approach the closest words on the left wall.

As you move to walk past Cloud Retainer's form, she brings her wing down to cover your path.

"Death is the only ending for you in One's eyes. If you fail to translate, then you'll die. If you tarnish or destroy it, then you'll die. And if you refuse, then death will claim you before you can even finish your words."

"I understand full and well, Cloud Retainer. My life belongs to the Creator, no matter how difficult or painful."

Her wing cuts through your shackles with ease. Now free, you walk past with that confident posture you've held throughout this meeting. Your hands itch to run over the wall and pray that Teyvat will automatically translate it as it had done for everything else. Yet when you get close enough to make out the words, you smile widely. A sight so beautiful for your poor eyes.

'Elemental creatures of all kinds must continue to worship the maker of all things to maintain their loving and personal connection. Refusing or forgetting to do so is the same as rejecting or not caring for them. Consequences are dire and just like trust, it'll be much harder to restore.'

Your language is written on the wall in clear letters. Your luck seems to have turned around for now. You could do so much with this information.

"I can understand this perfectly. It's the language the Creator uses to communicate on the world they're resting in. The scripture describes elemental worship that is specific to only elemental beings."

You recite the first text with ease as the room goes quiet. Not a laugh, scoff nor grumble is heard in the room. Should you take this as a bad or good thing?

Pushing onward you begin to translate the rest of the text on both sides of the room. It gives a detailed explanation on how to sacrifice body parts, energy, blood, and lifeforce.

"Stop, we have heard enough." Moon Carver cuts in emotionlessly. You look back at them feigning a confused expression. Trouble is clear on their faces, the truth of your words is spreading guilt within them.

Inwardly your lips curve into a smile that seems to soothe the pain in your arm.

They aren't guilty from the approaching truth of your 'oracle' status being real. They're feeling guilt over the worship methods that they had forgotten.

But pompous beings like them will never accept their wrong-doings so easily.

"You speak of words that poison our minds and weigh our hearts with guilt. This may be but a sham that you wish to deceive us with. Us, illuminated beasts will not accept this method until it's been proven in our sights."

With a careless shrug and scoff, you speak to Mountain Shaper with an uncaring attitude. "I would happily do it to myself just to prove my words true, but I'm not an elemental being like you all were so happy to point out. It seems one of you will have to test it out or we'll never get anywhere."

"Or perhaps we can end this farce now and eliminate you from the beloved maker's gaze." His angry reaction has you covering your mouth in surprise.

"You would skip past the proper protocols in the case concerning the Creator? Where is your devotion? Your faith? Or are you just afraid to do so and see the honesty in my words? Maybe it's a mix of both..."

Mountain Shaper takes a clawed step forward that makes the ruins shake. Cloud Retainer blocks his path with her wing.

"One has had enough of this Shaper! Treat the eulogies and artwork of the creator with more respect."

"It is shameful that an illuminated being like yourself is being led by a mortal like that. Are we not the ones who survived this long despite the varying enemies and plots? Calm yourself before you sully the Creator's pride with your uncontrollable wrath."

Mountain Shaper looks pissed as his eyes glare at you with malice. The temptation to flip him off with a shit-eating grin is too strong and he turns away like a toddler at your crude actions.

"I can do the ritual for us to learn the truth on this matter." A timid voice steps in during the brief silence. All eyes turn to Ganyu as she keeps her hands close to her chest.

"All the work I do is for Liyue, Rex Lapis, and most importantly: the Creator. If this method is true then I can learn a more intimate way to worship them. And if not, then I can keep the creator's reputation pure by utterly destroying Y/N."

Her words are soft and gentle but turn dark near the end as she stares at you seriously. The adepti stay quiet seeming to respect her bold actions even if Cloud Retainer seems just a bit ruffled.

"You said that there are many different offerings to give, all with their own reward. Which one would give the best result?"

"The energy sacrifice would be the most convenient and easiest but it doesn't fit you well due to your lethargic nature. Your body is physically strong so a blood offering would be the best choice."

Ganyu's eyes seem to follow your form as you step closer to the section that contains the instructions for the blood offering. She's no doubt trying to figure out how you could know about that without considering the possibility of you being the Oracle true.

You read it out loud so that everyone is on the same page before looking back at them.

"So let's start with the main things. We'll need a clear area outside along with a ceremonial dagger and cup. I'll wait here and write down all the ritual instructions for future use."

In Genshin you always know a NPC is suspicious when they want to 'wait and write' something while you do the actual work. The distrustful looks they all send you feel the same way.

They leave Ganyu to watch over you while they all leave to prepare the ritual. Deciding to leave Ganyu alone, you go back to jotting down the text into your handbook.

It's quiet to the point of it being uncomfortable yet you diligently finish the notes and simply doodle on the free space. Ganyu's eyes never stop running down your body, you ask yourself if she's even blinking.

"Before I came here to visit, I heard of an incident at Liyue Harbor. About two geovishap hatchlings that went feral and caused a mess. The most interesting part was how the 'winner' displayed its trophy to a masked stranger."

Ah, Ganyu... 3,000 years old and counting half-qilin adeptus with a whole war as experience. Did you ever forget her knowledge? No, you just simply underestimated her resilience to erosion.

"Is there something you want to ask me about that incident? If so, just spit it out. Communication is important, a secretary like yourself should know that much."

"I have no doubt that you are the person in the incident. I'm conflicted over how you came to your... position. Someone tricking the people is normal and still saddening. But someone trying to trick the adepti? Foolish and stupid. I will stop you either way but just know that I will not stand for your evil actions."

A laugh slips past your lips as your gaze falls onto her firm stance. Gentle and quiet are the words to describe qilin yet the conflict avoiding nature seemed to have skipped Ganyu's genes.

"Then I hope you repent properly to the creator for refusing to believe their loyal servant for speaking the truth." You move to stand in front of her and stare deeply into her eyes with mirth. "It seems the adepti have already returned. Why don't we get going?"

Not a moment later, Cloud Retainer's voice rings out, calling for you both to come outside. Smiling cheerfully, you follow Ganyu out of Cloud Retainer's home.

The moon's glow tenderly caresses your skin and bandaged arm as the water laps at your legs. The adepti stand on the small patch of land as you and Ganyu trudge across the water. On the table is a clean dagger with intricate gold patterns and a gold chalice decorated with Noctilucous Jade.

Dagger and chalice in hand, you survey the area with a critical eye. Smiling, you point at an area of water.

"The water here is clean and clear so it fits the bill in what the ritual needs. Follow me Ganyu." Not bothering to look back you walk deeper into the water, even still the water only reaches above your knees.

"Words are not needed, only actions. Kneel and choose a place for me to cut you. Your blood has to fill the chalice to the brim."

She goes along with your words and kneels, letting the liquid soak her clothes without complaint. Grabbing ahold of her beautiful white sleeve, she pulls it off, exposing her arm.

"Cut my arm in a long shallow slit so it can be filled quickly without too much damage."

"Alright, let me go over the steps once more as your time is limited once it's filled." With practiced ease, you cut her arm and watch her blood flow into the chalice. Not even a peep escapes her from the pain.

"You'll hold the chalice with both hands raising it into the air to signify that you are offering. Keep your eyes closed and pray for what you wish to communicate to the creator. In this case, you want to pray for the creator to accept your blood offering as the first step to forgiveness. After that you'll just need to follow my lead."

Ganyu nods solemnly and you move the now filled chalice to her hands carefully to avoid spilling it. Her eyelids flutter shut as her hands hold the chalice high in the air. The air seems to still as her lips move to mouth a silent prayer.

The blood that drips down her arm and into the water seems hypnotizing. To think you’d really hurt someone to hide your lie. It's different then the case with Beisht; you hurt Beisht to prove your identity. What you have done to Ganyu is a line you may have to cross again in the future. What if you eventually kill someone to hide your lie? The thought seems ludicrous to you now but so did hurting someone before this moment...

Your thoughts seem to still when the blood dripping from her wound changes in color. No, not just color but in texture too. Those wine red drops shift to a mix of pink and blue. It solidifies into a small glittering object that clinks softly as it hits the water.

It flashes for a moment before dissolving into water like it never existed. Was that truly what a primogem looked like in real life?

An indescribable feeling swells up in your chest, soft whispers lead your body closer to Ganyu without a fight. Shakily your hands cover hers as that intangible feeling urges you to speak.

'I accept your offering' is nearly spoken but even in this haze of dopamine and serotonin, your self control is firm.

"The Creator accepts your offering." Your words are shaky with unknown emotions. Is this Ganyu's feelings towards you as the creator? It's gentle and rests on your soul like a weighted blanket feebly trying to pull you into a deep sleep.

Reminding yourself of the ritual at hand, you begin to tilt the chalice toward the ground. The scripture never specified what would happen but the sight you receive is beyond what you could expect.

What pours out of the chalice is not scarlet liquid, but thousands of primogems that clink and clank as it hits the water. Just like earlier, it dissolves leaving bubbles that cloud the starry sky that was reflected on the surface.

When the last primogem hits the water, you release Ganyu's hands and step back. You look up at the night sky that begins to glow with color as your voice cuts through the tense silence.

"Open your eyes Ganyu, it's time to see your wish revitalized. The Creator accepted your offering after all."

Coral and lavender eyes open slowly and go wide at the sight of the sky. The chalice is gripped in tightly on her lap as the night blooms with blue and purple wishes.

A single gold star begins to travel through the air at high speeds. Noticing its course you step farther away from Ganyu as she stays kneeling in amazement at the sight.

Before anyone can speak, the gold shooting star hits Ganyu and engulfs her spot with a beam of light. It's harsh on your eyes but the game screen that automatically opens in front of you soothes it.

Ganyu's splash art is the only thing you see before you click it off with a triumphant smile. Skipping through all the other wishes and four star constellations, the game screen and gold light disappear at the same time.

A shocked and confused Ganyu could be expected. A quietly happy and thankful Ganyu was expected. But the half qilin adeptus silently bawling her eyes out as she stays kneeling in the water was what greeted you instead.

The other adepti don't hesitate to move to your area with inhuman speed from where they were watching. You expected Mountain Shaper to be the first one to attack you as Moon Carver stands protectively in front of Ganyu but it seems the adepti didn't like to respond logically.

Sharp talons wrapped around your neck as the weight of the crane pushes you back onto the water. The unexpected submersion has you coughing uncontrollably underwater as your body seems to be weighed down by something invisible.

Fingers dig into your throat as blurry yells make your heart pound with panic.

"It's all your fault!"

"None of this would have happened if you didn't exist!"

"Should have just let me do what I want with you, you pathetic fuck!"

Sickle in hand your attacks are choppy as the electro sputters in and out of existence. The fingers turn into a bruising, clawed grip once more as your free hand grabs a fistful of feathers.

The crane is pulled away and by extension you're pulled out of the water too. The water droplets make your vision blur as you try to calm your hyperventilation into something less vulnerable.

Cloud Retainer is held back by all three adepti as she squawks with indignation. The ringing in your ears prevents you from hearing anything more than, "One has not seen Ganyu cry in such a way since she was a child!"

Ganyu seems more than embarrassed as she repeatedly tells Cloud Retainer something you can't be bothered to make out. Your nails dig into the blood and feathers in your hand as you stare at the missing patch of feathers on Cloud Retainers body.

You're cold, wet, hungry, and so very tired but that bald patch you left on the noisy crane makes you feel happy in a vengeful way. If you weren't still reeling from the near death experience you would have loved to comment on her new preen.

The situation seems to calm down as Ganyu and the rest explain something thoroughly to Cloud Retainer. It's obvious that she had gone on a rampage due to Ganyu's reaction without bothering to view the situation in full. A rare mistake for someone as meticulous as her.

With care and concern only for the present, you move to the edge of the mountain and stare out across the sky. The view of Liyue is muddled yet enhanced by the starry sky. The grass under your shoes is welcome in comparison to the pond that nearly swallowed you whole.

Your fingers mindlessly pick at the healing scabs and bruises from the treasure hoarder fiasco. The grimace on your face is not from the pain of the jostled arm but the uncomfortable feeling of wet bandages. Carefully, your fingers trace the new talon marks on your neck that you gained from Cloud Retainer. Should you get hurt by Moon Carver too, to collect wounds from all three?

The grass crunches behind you and you already know what is about to happen. Your eyebrows pinch in worry and your gaze rarely leaves the floor as the adepti stand face to face with them.

"I'm so sorry for my reaction earlier. I was so surprised and overjoyed that the sacrifice convinced the Creator to awaken me that I reacted in such a shameful way. It's due to my failure to keep my emotions in check that you got hurt. Please forgive me."

Your mind is blank but your body is well versed in what to do, what lies to say. Softening eyes are steady with Ganyu's as your fingers gingerly touch the claw marks.

"I understand Ganyu, the creator's grace is an amazing thing. Be sure to serve them properly from now on." With a near patronizing tone you speak to the adepti as a whole.

"Don't you see what damage you had done to me? The creator is love, peace, justice and truth. I hope you don't think they'll let Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper off easy for harming me who has taken on such a heavy and dangerous burden."

Facades are only good if you know how to upkeep and keep track of them. If you act like some soft pushover now, they'll be suspicious. You slide into the control seat of the spider web of lies you've created as easily as breathing.

Rest? Mental breakdowns? Dissociative states? Hallucinations from past traumatic experiences? All of those things must be pushed into the crevice in your mind. The same crevice that seems to grow deeper and darker with each passing year since your birth. Those thoughts can consume you when you're safe, if that day ever comes.

They react exactly as you expected; haughty but thoroughly humbled with seeds of self doubt planted in their hearts. Breaking even a fraction of their pride in their fake-ass devotion brings a longing for them to crumble even more.

You go along with conversation while conserving as much energy as possible. Ganyu was the only one with enough sensibility to apologize to you so why should you care about the rest of them? If they had Ganyu carry and apologize in their stead then they should be just as fine with you only giving her actual attention.

Pointing out this fact seemed to stun them into a tense silence. Your body naturally goes on edge expecting some sort of attack but nothing comes. Instead they present you with a few apologies without using words.

"As a faithful servant of the Creator, you are welcomed anytime in Jueyun Karst, as well as any other areas that would be deemed off-limits within our authority."

"Why not stay in One's home for the night after the enlightening events that have occurred today? One is not a careless host and will be sure to provide all that you need during your stay."

It honestly wasn't a bad idea, your mind and body were not fit for teleporting to Liyue and setting up camp. You accepted the offer despite knowing that the sleep you will get will not be fulfilling.

The conversations they hold as you are fed and tended to flow in one ear and out the other. The most notable information you picked up was how they wanted to try the method themself and even spread it to Xiao in hopes of the creator lessening his karmic debt.

It's Ganyu that accompanies you to a guest room that Cloud Retainer somehow managed to not make messy. The other adepti seem to think that you like her in some way when little to their knowledge, you're simply fond of her.

Not in the way that you want to be near or interact with her. She apologized for being part of the reason you were attacked. She still hasn't apologized for all her previous rude actions. You liked her the same way as you did on Earth. Only as a character.

A voice whispers that it's better than how you refuse to associate with Ei in any way.

You lay down on a clean mattress in the comforting silence of the night. You're dry, warm, full, and comfortable yet still as on edge as before. The eyebags you wear are not from random all-nighters but from the never-ending cycle of lying for a living. Both on Earth and on Teyvat.

Sleep doesn't come easy, not with the constant fear of talons holding you down. Nor with the unease of amber cutting through your skin. Rest comes in spurts of deep sleep before hands are choking you again back into the waking world.

Sometimes you wish you could forget who your family was too.

Your internal clock is all sorts of confused as you wake up for the 50th time. Judging by the lack of discomfort in your body, you couldn't have slept more than an hour.

Pale green glows in the corner of your eyes making you speed into sitting position. You catch the faintest glimpse of a horned masked bearing large fangs and glowing teal eyes.

You blink at the spot as your breath is harsh even to your own ears. Was it real? Was he here? Why would he be?

For what reason would he watch you sleep if not to investigate?

The cool mask calms your clammy skin. If he had looked under it, you wouldn't be here anyway. It's that morbid thought that brings you peace.

How ironic.

Knowing that sleep will not come to you for a while, you get dressed and follow the vague memory of the path Ganyu took when bringing you to the guest room.

It leads to the domain doors to the outside and the brush of your fingertips on the stone doors has it moving smoothly. The early morning sun warms the stone walkway as you exit into the free space.

The sight of the pond trudges up memories of yesterday. With a bright smile and light footsteps, you hurry down the staircase and jump over the water with ease.

"-yet how could we possibly forget such a vital ritual?" "One suspects larger factors are at play." "The records in our abodes should show-"

Catching the near ending of such a serious conversation, you slow down as they all turn to look at you.

"Awake already Y/N? Would you like a light breakfast?" Ganyu is the first to speak, the other adepti are surely still examining you. Now far more lucid than last night you are positive that having another meal with them would be a true nightmare.

"I'm not hungry when it's so early so I'll pass for now. There are many private duties that the creator asks of me and it would be best that I get straight to it. Yet there's a slight problem."

The adepti seem to tense up in unison, not that they are wrong for doing so. You've been a consistent thorn in their side since you met Mountain Shaper.

"You see, my body has not fully recovered from the injuries that I received from fighting the treasure hoarders. And with the how rough I was handled by you all, my injuries were reopened."

The wind ruffles your hair as if highlighting the bruise and talon marks. Your left hand is pressed against your chest making the sun shine on the bandaged arm. The parts of damaged exposed skin are the icing on the cake.

"Then what is it that you desire oracle of the beloved? Do you wish to check on the children that were saved?" Mountain Shaper's voice is like ice. Sharp when cold like yesterday but smooth when controlled correctly.

It was a good thing you slept, even if it was sucky. You almost missed out on such a great bargaining chip!

"That is one thing I plan to do when I head to the city but there's a few things before that. Since you're already offering to take me then it would be a great help if you can take me to this location."

Shamelessly you hold out the map in your handbook with the only commission location left.

Increasing Danger - Hilichurls are building towers in the circled area. Destroy these towers for the safety of the people.

Mountain Shaper sighs tiredly and is about to respond when you cut him off on purpose.

"Oh and those ceremonial tools we used in the ritual yesterday? I need them. The creator is an all-loving deity that would never desire to push away the innocent and loyal beings in Teyvat unless they deserved it. The creator wishes to conduct more rituals if necessary."

Cloud Retainer seems to stare at you in shock at the forceful way you pushed for the items you desire. The dagger and chalice glint in the sunlight as she resists the urge to hide them from your greedy eyes.

"But before you drop me off for good at my commission site, I'll need you all to help me activate the teleport waypoints. There's no way I'm climbing those mountains again. Besides, the creator blessed you all with such power, how could you not use it to support a fellow devotee?"

Your smile widens to bare all your teeth as Moon Carver avoids looking directly at you. They may be reluctant but you always make sure to have your debts be paid with interest. The price for hurting, exhausting, and stressing you out is not one to sneeze at either.

Quite a few teleport waypoints were activated with the dagger and chalice safely in your bag. Adeptus powers really were useful in situations like these. Within half an hour you had activated enough to safely teleport around Jueyun Karst without fear of running into the adepti again.

As Mountain Shaper sets you down nearby the hilichurl camp and towers for your commission, his curiosity finally gets the best of him.

"For what reason did you discolor so many teleport waypoints?"

"I can teleport using them due to the creator's blessing. Now that I activated them, I can teleport to all of your mountains whenever I want to visit!"

Each word you say with a cheerful grin seems to send him deeper into agony. He nods tightlipped and flies away. The wind brings his muttered words to your words.

"A vacation is in order. A vacation for as long as possible."

Messing with the adepti was really fun. You just hoped that they would go on vacation permanently, your job would be much easier that way.

All you have left is to finish this commission, teleport to the waypoint near the harbor's entrance and get your money. Simple as that. Opening the game window from your safe viewing spot of the hilichurl camp, you begin to review all the books on hilichurls.

First and foremost, thank you to the editor of this chapter @serpent-benediction! He was a huge help even if he terrorized me the whole time </3

It gives me more time to add some fun stuff like italics and bold. Stories pack more of a punch with flair, in my eyes at least. All the improvements to the chapter are his work like capitalizing Oracle and Creator. We did debate on whether adepti was species or title. So yall are free to give your opinion on which it is and whether it should be capitalized. I'm glad to see that (almost) all the build-up to the adepti part is finished. Well for the adepti at least. I was like dead tired after the choking part so that's why it may be a bit wonky. Now that I'm not pressed for time (yet. Sep is coming soon) I wanted to thank everyone for staying this long in the series! I love reading and responding to comments. I love reading the notes and/or tags from reblogs. I don't know if I should respond to reblogs like I do to comments. Cause I see some really in-depth reblogs that I wanna respond to but I end up not doing that thanks to my thoughts of-'Is that weird, strange or uncomfortable?' I just don't wanna scare anyone off. And for those that might wonder why Y/N was choking here but not with Beisht, it's due to Retainer. Retainer was using her adeptus power to pressure the water against Y/N which caused the drowning and bruises. I hope that clears it up a lil!

I'm a dumbass, I forgot the taglist. That's why it looked so short in my eyes. Everyone is allowed to yell at me for this (except for my editor) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado

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bytheinaya · 10 months

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𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has a crush on you, the girl everybody wants to be like. You were usually called a good fuck by the guys in college, they weren't wrong. Jeon was smart, and you took advantage of that when you needed help in your studies, but in return, he asked you for something. It was a deal Pairing: Soft! Jungkook X Motorcyclist! Reader Friends with benefits AU, Motorcyclist AU, college AU genre: Smut, fluff. Warnings: Soft Jungkook, Dominant reader, smut, angst. !! I am not sexualizing Jungkook, the character portrayed in this story is simply a figment of my imagination, This is all just FICTION!!

(This story will be parted)

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you glance over your shoulder to find the stranger sleeping peacefully next to you. Furrowing your brows in frustration, you stand up and grab your scattered clothes on the floor, feeling a mix of emotions rushing through you. With each step towards the bathroom, you can't help but ponder the events of the previous night, wondering how you ended up in this situation. You decide to take a long, hot shower, hoping that it will wash away not just the physical remnants, but also the lingering memories. As you dry yourself off and get dressed, you can't help but feel a sense of urgency creeping in. You grab your keys, wallet, and phone, stealing one last glance at the stranger before you silently slip out of the room.

Walking out of the building and into the morning air, you take a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. The new day brings with it a sense of freedom, a chance to leave behind the night before and begin anew. Making your way towards your motorcycle, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement as you turn the engine on and embark on your journey home. Glancing at your watch, you realize that time is of the essence. It's already 5:30, and you have a strict schedule to follow. You remind yourself that you need to get to college in 2 hours, fill your gas tank, change at home, and then head off to college.

As you speed through the streets, the roar of the motorcycle fills your ears, drowning out any other thoughts or worries. The wind caresses your face, and you feel the raw power of the engine beneath you. In this moment, you find solace from the struggles and challenges of life. The city lights twinkle like stars, casting a mesmerizing glow on the pavement as you navigate through the night. It's as if the world around you is in harmony, offering a brief respite from the chaos that often engulfs your mind.

It's moments like this that offer a sense of refuge, especially when your parents are too preoccupied with their own lives to notice yours. The wind is like a friend, gently reminding you that, although your parents may be uncaring, there are still moments of beauty and peace in the world. These moments of solace provide a sanctuary from the chaos that surrounds you, allowing you to find strength in the midst of familial neglect.

As you park your bike in front of the huge mansion you never seemed to be proud of, you enter the home. It was empty as always, not even able to be called a home. The silence echoes through the halls, emphasizing the emptiness that permeates every corner. You take a deep breath and look around, allowing the memories to flood your mind. Everything was so familiar yet so distant, a bittersweet reminder of the life you once had. The weight of sadness settles in your chest.

"You're finally home, where were you all those days?" The female voice asks. It's your childhood nanny, more like your mother for you. She smiled and gently stroked your hair, her touch a soothing balm to your weary soul. You felt like you were finally home, a place where love and acceptance are unwavering. You hugged her tightly, grateful for the stability she provides in a world filled with uncertainty. As you pull away, a bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a reflection of the disillusionment you feel towards your own family "You know Liz, what's even so great in this home". She follows your lead, understanding the depth of your emotions. She looked at you with a soft gaze and said, "No matter where you are, this place will always be home. You are loved here and always will be". Her words resonate deeply within you.

You smiled and hugged her again, feeling the warmth of her embrace and the comfort of the home you had come back to. "Loved only by you, I wonder if my parents know I exist or not" You smile as you pull away, she could see the sadness glistening in your eyes. But you were cold, she saw coldness in your eyes. She hugged you tighter, as if trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world. She said, "Of course they do. They may not be here to show it, but they care about you." Her words may be a mere consolation, but they offered a glimmer of hope in the midst of your doubts. As she kissed your forehead and held your arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for her unwavering support.

You knew she said that just to make you feel better about it, but you didn't mind it. As you smile back, a sense of determination fills your heart. You inform her that you'll be heading up to your room to get a bath and get dressed, eager to wash away the weariness of the night before, though you did take a shower at the stranger's home, you felt the need to have another bath. She nods in response, understanding the need for personal space. You walk up the stairs, feeling a little better, knowing that you have someone who cares deeply about your well-being. You take a long, hot shower, and as you dress up, you felt a warmth inside of you, a warmth that she gave you. This feeling of being loved and valued reminds you that you are not defined by your parents' neglect, but by the love and support you receive from those who truly matter.

As your motorcycle gracefully pulls up at the college's designated parking spot, you can't help but notice the numerous gazes fixated on you. It's a familiar sensation, one that you've grown accustomed to over time. Your hands instinctively reach for the head helmet, pulling it off and revealing your face to the curious onlookers. Your hair, meticulously tied up in a high ponytail, cascades down your back, adding to your captivating presence. The glint of the lip piercing on your bottom lip catches the sunlight, accentuating your edgy allure.

Unbeknownst to you, a few meters away, Jungkook discreetly observes as you effortlessly dismount from your sleek black bike. His eyes are glued to you, captivated by your every move. The grip on his books tightens as he continues to admire you in awe. His heart beats vigorously inside his chest, and a comforting warmth spreads through his entire being. Despite his desire to approach you, fear holds him back. He watches wistfully as you stroll away, yearning for the courage to introduce himself. Little does he know, the whole school is well aware of his infatuation, and that includes you.

Curiously, you have never seen his face before. You are only familiar with his name, or perhaps not even that, as it has never held any significance to you. His feelings are of no concern to you, and you have no interest in getting to know him. The constant reminders of his supposed crush on you have always been met with indifference. It simply doesn't matter to you, not him, nor anyone else for that matter.

With each confident click of your boots on the concrete floor, you stride into the familiar halls of the cherished college. The usual prying eyes follow your every step, but you remain unaffected. Head held high, you continue walking, undeterred by the curious gazes around you. Your singular focus is on reaching your destination - the classroom. As you enter, you seamlessly settle into your designated seat, comfortably awaiting the arrival of the professor. In the meantime, you effortlessly scroll through your social media feed, completely oblivious to the anticipation building in the room. The modern classroom is a busy hub of activity. As students arrive, their conversations are a mix of excitement and anticipation. The professor finally enters, and the room is silenced by a wave of respect. You can feel the energy of the room shift as the professor begins their lecture. You make a valiant effort to absorb the information being shared. The professor's words blend together in a harmonious melody, and you find yourself completely engrossed in the captivating discourse.

Your grades were dropping, and it's not like you care about it. Once your parents find out, your life will be hell, not like it isn't already. You need to figure out a way to get your grades back up, or you'll never hear the end of it. They'll cut you off everything, and you can't afford that. You start to consider your options - studying more, asking for help, or hiring a tutor. And it clicks. Once the period is over, you head up to..what's his name again? However, you head up to him, and he sat in the corner, head buried in his books for the next period. You tap him on the shoulder, and he looks up, a little surprised but strangely pleased. Jungkook would've never expected you out of everyone. Your voice softer than usual you speak: "Uhm, Jungwon right?" The man chuckled shaking his head and you ponder what had been so funny. "Jungkook, Y/N" He smiles as you look away embarrassed. "yeah, uh sorry" Scratching the nape of your neck you abruptly sit down next to the man, his eyes focused on you as he closes his books and places them on the table. "It's okay," he reassures you, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looks at you with an appreciative gaze. You feel a sense of relief wash over you as you realize that you might have found a solution to your academic struggles. "I need your help," you finally admit, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. The man is shocked by your sudden remark, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Looking around the classroom, you try to avoid his gaze as you speak. "Help? from me?" He asks genuinely confused, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. Your eyes find his again as you sigh, summoning up the courage to share your plea. You nod, feeling a little bit embarrassed but determined to salvage your grades. "Yes, I need your help. I'm struggling with this class, and I was wondering if you could spare some time to assist me." The man sitting next to you in class is renowned for his exceptional intelligence. He always knows the answer to the professor's questions, and he consistently earns top grades on his tests. You, on the other hand, find yourself constantly lagging behind, desperately trying to keep up. " I don't know Y-" In a moment of vulnerability, you cut him off, intertwining your hands with his, and begging him earnestly for his guidance. "Please, Jung...uhm, I mean, please help me. I can't afford to fail," you plead, your eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination, hoping that he will see the sincerity in your request and offer his assistance with your studies. Jungkook simply shakes his head at you, his expression softening as he takes in your words. "I don't know, Y/N," he says quietly, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to see you fail, but I don't know if I can help you." You take a deep breath and mustering all your courage, you straighten your back and look Jungkook in the eyes. "Please," you say, your voice barely audible. "I'll do anything. I need your help." The man sighs as he looks away for a brief moment. Jungkook looks back at you and nods slowly. "Okay. I'll help you." There is a sudden flurry of joy filling your eyes as you leap up in utter joy. "Thank-" This time he cuts you off and says "But, you'll have to help me too..." You shoot a brow up wondering what he needed help with. "So, there's this...girl." You can't help but burst out in laughter, though he doesn't look as happy as you do. "Oh sorry, continue," You say trying to hold in your chuckles." I need your help to teach me everything you can, for me to be able to ask her out." The situation is so funny that you can't help but laugh. You can't believe that he needs your help to ask out a girl. It's like a scene out of a movie. "Fine, I guess it's a deal?" He nods. "You don't need to pay me, just teach me" You reluctantly agree, even though you're still laughing inside. You tell him that you'll try your best to help him. He thanks you for your help and you both head your separate ways. Not before trading numbers.

Your curiosity reaches its peak when you wonder about who the girl Jungkook likes might be. As you drive through the street on the way to your home, the wind hits your face giving you the sense of freedom you urge for. Your thoughts are still lingering around the mysterious girl Jungkook likes as you arrive at your home. You know about the possible rumors surrounding you and him but you can't help but wonder who it was and why Jungkook wanted to change himself for her.

As you step inside your house, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. You ponder over the countless possibilities of who this girl could be, and the reasons why Jungkook would go to such lengths for her. It's a mystery that keeps you intrigued, and you can't help but let your imagination run wild with each passing moment.

"1...2...3..." The man counts as he does his daily reps of pushups. His upper body exposed and coated with sweat. He stops for a moment, out of breath, he lays on the ground and looks up at the ceiling. His thoughts drift back to the girl who head up to him earlier in the day, you, he smiled to himself of how you looked so embarrassed when saying his name wrong. Sweat glistens off his toned body, his muscles contracting as he moves. He shook his head, chuckling at the memory. He stood up and grabbed his towel to wipe off the sweat. "You know you could just confess to her and move on with it?" A deep voice resounded in the gym. Taehyung, Jungkook's best friend, spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about," Jungkook said, trying to play coy. He knew that Taehyung saw right through him, but he didn't want to admit it. "Come on kook, helping her with tuition, lying about some girl just to be able to spend time with her? I'm dumb but not that dumb" Jungkook wanted to know you better, he wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to be able to talk to you and spend time with you. Taehyung smiled, he could tell Jungkook had a crush on you. He could see that Jungkook was trying to hide it, but he knew the truth. Taehyung knew that Jungkook was willing to do anything to get closer to you.

"Do I really need to say anything to you?" Jungkook casually tosses his towel over his shoulder while settling himself onto the chest press machine. Taehyung lets out a laugh, takes a swig of water and proceeds to complete his push-ups. "Nah, I already know what you're experiencing," Taehyung remarks with a smirk. Jungkook rolls his eyes and commences his workout. Taehyung observes him for a moment before resuming his own exercises, privately amused by the younger one's demeanour.

Tags: @ottergirl

#my writing #bts #bangtan #books #fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #taehyung #jungkook smut #jeon jungkoooook #jeon jungkook #fem reader #x reader #fluff #smut #x you #female reader

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dowhatteverer · 1 year

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Pre Remnant City cannon Ironwood!

Before the main story, he would work as a personal huntsman for Jacques before quitting in a very dramatic blow up and going off grid for a year.

#james ironwood #remnant city au

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reddpenn · 8 months

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Two and a half years after her supposed death, Chiaki Nanami awakens from a coma into a twisted and unfamiliar world. Her friends have kickstarted the apocalypse, destroying everything - even their own bodies and minds - as they chase the glorious high of Despair.

As their class rep, it’s Chiaki’s duty to stop them. Her plan is simple. One by one, she’s going to confront the Remnants of Despair. And she’s going to save them, or die trying.

For those of you following my fanfiction, chapter seven of Towa City Remnant is up! Or if you’re new to the Honorary Remnant AU, you can start at the beginning!

#danganronpa #sdr2 #Chiaki Nanami #Nagito Komaeda #Honorary Remnant #honorary remnant AU #towa city remnant #fanfiction

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holybibly · 5 months

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Divine Rosa ❢ot8xreader❣

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

❣ Genre: Dark Romance, vampire au, angst, horror, yandere au, smut

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

❣ Summary: The moth always pours itself into the flame; what a pity that in the end it burns out. After the tragic death of her sister, MС tries to find answers to the questions she left behind. This leads her to a gated cottage town known for its luxurious rose gardens. In addition, there are also these mysterious men who manage all the affairs in the city. Too sweet, too helpful, too intrusive, and too in love.

❣ WARNING: only!18+ Themes of death, suicide, severe depression, stalking, blood, yandere behavior.

❣ Disclaimer: I don't support yandere behavior, stalking, or religious imposition. Themes include violence, obsession, possessiveness, and emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

How many times have you asked yourself, “What will happen to us next?” “Is there something on the other side?” “Will we see the shining light at the end of the tunnel and the white-winged angels, or is it just darkness waiting for us?”

We constantly reflect on this, sitting in the noisy company of friends, frozen for a moment in cold numbness; late at night, when there is no sleep and gloomy thoughts creep into your head; on the subway, bus, or taxi returning home from work or school, desperately understanding the desperation of their situation; recurring days in endless solitude.

We should stop doing that. When the time comes, we will ask ourselves other, more important questions.

Nevertheless, we tirelessly continue to be interested in it. Again and again, until our clock stops.

Sometimes I think all we have after we die are flowers and regrets. In our soul, heart, and mind, every second, there are many events that do not obey any rules of formal logic. All that we lose at death. There is no longer the privilege of choice that we had in life; now we have to settle for small, choking on despair and memories, staring into our own reflection on a silver epitaph.

“Our love will stay with her forever.” It would sound like a dream if it weren’t such a dirty lie.

I don’t think love exists. It’s like a sweetener: we feel sweetness, but the brain realizes it's fake, sending out red signals warning of deception. But we still desperately crave this feeling, however painful it may be.

And yet, after death, our lives go on, and in some special cases, we find ourselves more alive than ever before.

It's our time to watch as the new story unfolds, and the usual roles are played by other actors. New names appear on the waiting list, and celebratory ribbons are given to the new queens. See how fake diamonds sparkle in their luxurious crowns. Despite that, you’re the star of this show. Your name is in the news, in the bold headlines on the front pages of newspapers, and every casual passer-by claims to have known you personally while you still existed in a small, closed time period called life.

So what does it feel like to be the only spectator in the front row? The main subject of general regret.

In our cooled consciousness, a sharp conviction of our own uselessness is born and settles. Friends we used to call the best put your stuff in boxes with ribbons of tape. A family that tears the remnants of your life apart, erasing your name from the family register with a sickeningly straight line of black ink. Acquaintances and colleagues, always smiling with an astringent sweetness that glues their teeth, easily remove your number from the contact list and open their palms in a welcoming gesture to those who came to take your place.

All of them, all these people close to us, express their false regrets about your untimely departure, putting a tick in front of the memorized phrase: “Ah, we are so sorry. She was young and beautiful.” Is that what they usually say?

That’s all; our race for popularity is over. The rules of good manners and standards of appearance no longer matter. Your thoughts, actions, and preferences belong only to you, and at this very moment, we feel freedom. Short time, but still freedom.

It is only a short moment until the lid of the coffin closes completely over us. And here we are, face to face with our past, alone.

As hard as it may be for us to admit it, it's true. All that remains for us after death is regret.

Each of us has our own. Someone feels regret for the love that he could not protect and the loved ones that he has lost forever. We regret the things we’ve done and the words we haven’t said, but most of all, we regret the time we’ll never get back.

The dead mourn more than the living.

Besides regrets, we’re taking flowers with us. Yes, these beautiful creatures are leaving with us to one day wrap around our bones, sever the grayish subtlety of our skin, and grow again above the ground, eating us like a parasite.

The flowers also symbolize the grand finale of our celebration. When the music dies down and the curtain falls, they will be the only ones who will stay side by side while the guests leave the lavishly decorated hall one by one.

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

I like to think of it as a peculiar payment for our rest. Maybe death is as in love with these deliciously fragile things as we are, and that’s why they’re leaving with us. Silent companions who hold our hand as we go into the darkness.

The path to the origins of the great Sanzu River is paved with bloody lycoris and mournful lilies. Truly a magnificent sight. Ugly and beautiful are two sides of the same coin.

When I was little, Mina told me many different stories. Some warmed my cheeks and stretched my lips in a happy smile; others were gray, like days with incessant downpours. I wrapped myself in blankets and warmed my palms with warm cups of herbal tea, but there were other stories that I didn't want to remember until now.

They were sinister, like a spider hovering on a web waiting to be sacrificed. The words were sharp; they pierced the skin, leaving long, stinging wounds. Meaning has always been terrible; like a blade in the tongue, it could not be swallowed and understood. I was afraid. I was scared to death. I could not sleep in the light of a bright day or in the mist of a starry night; in the coziness of the blankets, there was no warmth or protection, and the mocking laughter of Mina made it worse.

My grandmother scolded her and assured me that all this was nonsense, empty words, and legends formed from idleness, but I knew better. There was truth in Mina's stories, and the realization of this only made them scarier.

The most terrible of them was the story of a young man in black silk robes. Beneath the black veil was a sensual smile, and the fox's heterochromic eyes were alluring and sparkling like stars.

Was he a nine-tailed kumiho? A black reaper holding death itself on a leash? He may have been a vampire, desperate and thirsty, but personally, I was sure he was a ghost. A past woven into a single canvas, thread by thread, stitch by stitch. I think I saw him once, during the Lunar Festival. He was the center of my little universe, the otherworldly and inexplicable, his long black clothes flowing to the ground like a waterfall, and the diffused light of the treacherous moon embraced his silhouette like a caring mother’s embrace.

I thought the world was dancing around him. The children were running around laughing and circling like butterflies in the round dance; the couple were whispering nicely, their palms intertwined tightly, as if it would save them from the inevitable parting; and the others were simply enjoying the festival time, waiting for the sheaves of colorful fireworks to explode in the sky.

His eyes pierced my figure so greedily and sharply. I saw hunger in them. A thirst. A goal.

And then I screamed. So loud and disgusting in a childish way. With a shrill screech, I rushed into the crowd, hoping to find Mina. The colorful ribbons in my hair rushed into the air, and the wind bore me the echoes of his sweet laughter.

He was mocking me. I could have run, but he could have caught me in a second if he wanted to. For a moment, I looked back to make sure that he was still standing there, covered with moonlight and a myriad of stars, but the long, flowing silk of his black robes melted like a mist in the night without leaving a trace.

Mina laughed mockingly as I clung to the lush skirts of her violaceous hanbok, sobbing, choking with tears, and pointing my finger in the direction where I saw the young man with the fox’s eyes.

After that incident, I didn’t sleep for days, couldn’t eat, and was afraid of every noise.

From that night on, I began to believe in ghosts. They are among us. We can see them, reach them, and hear their whispering voices. Science cannot explain them; they are not subject to it. They are mistakenly called fictions, twisted forms of memories that acquire real outlines and are indistinguishable from the real world.

Science calls it imagination; I call it another form of life. Ghosts exist. They’re always there.

The line between the dead and the living is thin and fragile. If you push it a little harder, it’ll shatter.

It’s true—life after death exists.

I was told once that death is like being submerged in water. First, the lungs start to burn from a lack of oxygen; the body gets heavier; the eyes are baking, but we’re still conscious; and the brain continues to function. Then comes the next step. Our body desperately clings to life, continuing to contract the heart muscle. Bam, bam, bam. Deaf blows on the rib. If you start acting now, there is little hope of salvation. No more than a minute. And then, after that, there’s the final stage. Clinical death. Smooth stripe on the monitor.

Our sinking is over. We have reached the bottom. We have met eternity in the muddy depths, blended with the muddy sand and pearls.

That may be true, but for me, death is no more than a moment—until the last flowers on the grave fade.

I never thought about dying. Until it happens to Mina.

The first time I met death, it was with my first breath. I was born with silence—too small, too fragile, and painfully quiet.

Then there were the piercing sounds of medical devices and the screams of doctors and assistants. I was taken away instantly and carried far into the sterile, transparent box. Death retreated, but it didn’t go away.

I was only three when my parents died. Mina was squeezing my hands and talking about a long journey. Grandma took us to her old country house, where secrets were hidden and hyacinths blossomed. At the time, the very concept of grief was not clear and tangible to me; rather, the feeling was like frostbite, when the skin was already dead, but the pain was absent.

So I knew death before I even knew it.

My grandmother died suddenly. Her life was cut short in an instant, like a thread brought to the flame. I knew it; it seemed long before it happened. That summer, I was going to be at a ballet camp, and Mina was the star of the school, and she was planning on spending time with her cheerleading friends. Just one call changed all our plans. Short skirts and ballet points replaced chrysanthemums and black ribbons. Mina was grieving, taking condolences, while I watched from the sidelines. Grandma's leaving seemed like a dull pain from an old injury rather than a sharp cut, and it was easier to deal with than I thought.

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

The passionate, bloody, grandiose Mina's death. By closing my eyes, I could see her face again. White, sun-drenched, and blood roses, her long fluttering eyelashes, and scattered carmine strands of hair.

She was not at all afraid to die, as if this scenario had been memorized by her. Isn't it an innate instinct, a fear of the unknown, of death? We are frightened by monsters under the bed and horrors lurking in dark corners. We must be afraid of death. We are obliged to do this from the very moment we are born.

Mina was not afraid. She was never afraid of anything, unlike me.

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

When she died, I realized two things: one, nothing lasts forever, and two, I wanted to know what happened to my sister and what became her trigger. Big red button. At my request, an autopsy was conducted to rule out a drug-induced hypothesis that could have caused mental and emotional distress. Forensics found nothing in her lungs except rose petals. Mina literally breathed flowers. It sounded almost fantastical to me. Even her death was beautiful. Forever the first violin in the orchestra.

The case of her mysterious disappearance was closed. There was no point in looking for someone who was already dead. I asked the detectives to continue the investigation, but despite my desperate pleas, the police were adamant. My sister’s once-radiant life was packaged in a pair of cardboard boxes with a large-scale signature in black marker. “An Mina, case 117”. With each passing day, everything about Mina sank into darkness, but the mysteries and secrets around her only grew larger.

Once upon a time, I could call Mina an open book. It was easy to read—all the emotions, character traits, and habits—everything in it was exaggerated; there was no middle. Her love was never a simple hobby; it was always sharp, risky, and passionate.

Perhaps that is why she so easily fell into an obsession with roses; her feelings took a dangerous path.

I wanted to know who gave her these fabulous roses, who sent her candy and little sweet notes. There was something wrong with all of this, and not just the fact that the lush pink buds didn’t fade. No. It was a feeling, something very ominous, like a calm before a hurricane. A frightening, unnatural silence when all is silent and the air is gathering in front of the thunder's stunning storms.

There’s a long, unrequited tranquility on the other side of the phone line.

In the Japanese language, there is the expression “koi no yokan,” which literally means the feeling of inevitable love for the person you first met. This is not love at first sight, but a premonition of future love. So it was with these roses; they were not evil as such, but they were the inevitable omen of his coming.

True evil does not come in the form of a little red man with sharp horns and a long tail. Evil is beautiful—almost religiously magnificent. His appearance is divine and seductive, attracting the sweetness of the forbidden. Of course, the Devil himself was once an angel. And not just anyone; he was God’s favorite.

So are these flowers. I’ve never heard of people falling in love with soft petals and spiny stems. No one ever sings strange prayers for roses and dedicates his life to them without a trace. Those roses were bigger than they looked.

I think that Mina’s death was not accidental; it wasn’t suicide. Something broke her, violated her mind, and eventually destroyed her. Whether they were roses or people who gave them, that was my question. It was a secret hidden in the white folds of her lace dress, the dreamy smiles, and the names she spoke with such awe.

During Mina's funeral, I was approached by one of the lawyers who handled her legal affairs. I had to sort out the property rights and the lots of pages with numbers, dates, and places. Mina left me not only secrets but also a great legacy. As it turned out, in addition to our common apartment, she had several other assets in her possession, including her grandmother's mansion, which at one time she received as a sole inheritance, shares in various companies, and investments abroad.

I am now the sole owner of all this.

I had no idea where to start looking for answers or where to find the keys to the secret locks. Maybe I can find something in her files between the lines and the capital letters, or maybe it’s all dry formalities. So, going to the lawyer sounded like a good start to me.

How many can hide from those who command our last will?

Even so, I didn't want to be alone with Mina's secrets if I could find something in her belongings. I decided to call Soomin, who was once Mina’s best friend, the closest, to be exact. She was always there, having fun and crying with Mina, supporting and comforting when needed. Soomin was an integral part of her life. My life.

After the incident with the roses, they split up, not on the best of terms. Their conversation completely ended, but I still continued to spend time with her, and we often went to brunch at various gourmet cafés that Soomin loved so much. She was an elite restaurateur and had great taste, not only in the interior but also in food.

In a way, she completely replaced my sister. Soomin always told me, “No orgasm can ever match a stunningly cooked fondant au chocolat”. Yeah, I could totally agree with her on that.

After dialing her number, I waited for an answer. The wait was not too long, and after the second tone, I heard the melodic voice of Soomin on the other side. “Hello” “Soomin, I'm sorry to distract you from work; can you give me a few minutes?

“Sarang? I can’t believe you finally called me. How are you feeling, honey? I’ve been really worried about you, you haven’t spoken to any of us all this time.” In her voice, there was a sincere concern that resembled a mother's.

Soo has always been so caring and gentle. In her was the same fascinating brightness that Mina possessed, which brought them very close and became the strong foundation of their friendship, but unlike Mina, who resembled a raging forest fire, Soomin was a comforting flame of home. One was ready to destroy everything around her; the other collected ashes in beautiful vases and kept them as precious memories.

After Mina died, she was there for me when I especially needed support.

“Sorry, Soomin, I’m still trying to get over it." I sounded exhausted, even to myself. The days spent in voluntary isolation completely drained me emotionally and physically. I was the alarm of danger light for my friends. “You know, when she went missing, it was hard for me, but I was still hoping she’d come back. I convinced myself that Mina was fine and that she was enjoying life surrounded by her favorite roses.” It was the first time I had spoken openly about my feelings since Mina’s death. “I never imagined that my sister would slit her throat in front of me. I still have nightmares, Soomin, but I’m calling you for another reason, I have a little favor to ask you.”

“Sarang, you should feel like this; it’s okay. What happened to Mina traumatized you; damn it, it would have traumatized anyone if they were you. We agreed to give you time to get over it at your own pace, but when you didn’t answer our messages and calls, we started to worry. Eun Jung even offered to come to you several times; you know how she is.” She was anxious, and I understood why. “I’ll help with everything I need; just tell me how I can do it.”

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

“Sarang, please stop. The only thing I can offer you now is my help. I can’t imagine how you’re handling all this, and if you need my help, I’ll be there for you. So stop denying me and tell me what you wanted to ask.”

“Do you remember Mina’s lawyer who approached me at the funeral? I think it’s time I met him. It’s all about inheritance and property, but there’s something else.” I started off insecure. “I want to find out who sent her those stupid roses.”

“Why?” in her voice sounded like sincere surprise. “If you were me, would you want to know how it all started?”

“Probably, but aren't you afraid? Judging by how it turned out for Mina,” she stammered for a second. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“No, you’re right. Absolutely. I’m scared, and if things weren’t so messed up, maybe I would have done something different, but listen, Soomin, I have a strong feeling that I’m always missing something, and it��s bothering me.” “People don't change so dramatically, and certainly not because of the roses. You've been friends with her for so long, so you know her as well as I do, and we both understand that it's crazy to give up everything in your life for roses like that. Especially for Mina.” When I spoke my thoughts out loud, I was even more convinced that I needed answers. It really was crazy. “ She left so many secrets that I want to find a clue. I haven't told anyone, but the roses are still being sent. I received a call from the cemetery administration saying that her grave was littered with flowers, and they needed to figure out what to do with them. Not only that, but I also received several bouquets.” There was no point in hiding it anymore. If I want Soomin to help me, she needs to know about those roses that were sent to me.

“My God, Sarang, you should have told me right away. Did you talk to JiHo? This is an abnormal situation. What if you’re being chased, Sarang? I don’t know, it’s all so scary.”

“You have no idea, but I don’t think we should talk about stalking.”

“Why? Maybe it’s a stalker or serial killer; you should be careful. Please tell me JiHo is living with you now.” “First, I don’t think anyone in their right mind is going to come after me, and second, JiHo and I took a pause.”

“Did you break up?” she asked with an incredulous echo.

“I'm not sure if you can call it a breakup.”

“God, the bastard left you. I always told you he was a rare asshole and would run away at the first opportunity.”

“Soomin, let’s not talk about it, but if you want to hear it, yeah, you were right about him.” The memories of our conversation with my ex were still fresh and festering in my mind like a ball of worms.

It’s very convenient to hide behind phrases like “let’s take a break,” “you need time to figure things out,” “emotional vacation,” etcetera. No one wants to be a part of your grief. At this party, the cake belongs entirely to you.

“Okay, let’s close the JiHo thing. Tell me, do you know anything about who sent the roses? Any ideas?”

“Absolutely nothing; I’m stuck. There’s nothing that can help. No address, no sender’s name, Maybe we can find something in her files or stuff; I don’t know.”

“Yes, it’s possible. When do you want to go to a lawyer?”

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

“Give me a minute,” the papers rustled on the other side, Soomin clearly trying to find the day she needed in her diary. Knowing the nature of Soo, it was difficult to make out anything there; her records were always chaotic, and careful planning was not her forte. In this, too, she was similar to Mina.

“I’m totally free. How about going to brunch first and then to the lawyer?

You could use some fun, and I’ve always wanted to go to this new trending place. I hear they serve incredible fondant au chocolate, and the owner looks like God cut him out. How does that sound? “First, tell me, are we going there for the fondant or the owner?”

“You can’t judge me; everyone’s talking about how attractive this man is; I just want to see.” Soo softly dissipated.

“Have you betrayed your love of chocolate for a man? Kim Soomin is something new. Anyway, everything sounds great. Let’s go and see if those rumors are true, but if I were going there solely for the chocolate,” I smiled at that thought. I’ve really been lacking in communication lately. We should start coming back to the real world. “Do you know the address?” “Sure, I’ll pick you up at 11:00. Please wear something prettier than a black dress.” “It’s a classic, and thank you again, Soo.”

“You have nothing to thank me for, Sarang. Finally, I can call you like that, you know, Rosa, it doesn’t suit you. I’ll see you Friday, baby.”

“I think so, too. Until Friday.” I put the phone aside, taking a deep breath. The long stems of white roses had folded in half in the cramped bin. A luxurious wrapping in a rare shade of Solferino and embroidered topaz ribbons lay next to the bulky pile, and a small note was shrunk into a perfect ball that was also lying in the trash.

Whoever sent those flowers should have stopped doing that. I’m not Mina. I don’t like roses.

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

How quickly does the waiting time pass? We count the days, the hours, and the minutes until the exciting event we’re expecting, circled by a thick red line in the calendar, but is it really worth our time, which life has measured for us?

It's so strange; the days are like bottles of sand thrown by a restless ocean onto a flickering glass bank. I remember this one, crystal blue—it smells like strawberry cheesecake and summer heat. And this one, made of gloss and pearls, is full to the brim with grave earth and chrysanthemum petals. I like the one that sparkles with diamonds from the royal frosted glass; it smells like a lover’s pillow, and there are memories of the first love. There is another, very ordinary, and therefore the most precious—empty and at the same time full. If you open it, you can hear the gentle wind whispering your name.

My life is all about memories now. I’m just trying to keep what’s left.

The rest of the week passed unnoticed by me. Time, like the rapid trains at the station, rushed by, and I kept waiting to see the stop I needed in this incessant turmoil.

Existing in space is very simple when it belongs only to you. I did actions that were memorized to the finest detail, simple mechanisms that gradually brought me back to my normal state. Feed the neighbor’s cat. Do the cleaning. Go for a walk. Check the mail. Cook dinner. Ordinary things to take your mind off the colorful bottles on the shelves of consciousness and the endless cycle of nightmares.

And I also noticed that at night, time flows more slowly. Second by second, replace the glowing dial until dawn. And so on until the ruthless rays of the sun insidiously penetrate between the tightly woven threads of heavy boudoir curtains, and the golden shadow spills over the pampered skin like boiling water.

I think I'm allergic to the sun and, therefore, to the stars.

Maybe the whole world.

Today I woke up earlier than usual. Somewhere below the horizon, the sun splashed in the golden ichor of the predawn twilight. Yoru stretched out at the foot of the bed, warmed by tiny drops of warm light that seeped into the room through the window. Last night, she refused to leave, stubbornly ignoring my presence and my tender pleas to return home to her mistress.

Yoru was my neighbor’s cat, perfectly embodying all its best features: a slightly aggressive, capricious, and having a little bit of arrogance. Despite this, she had a strange affection for me and often stayed at my house if she was in the mood.

Other tenants avoided Yoru, considering her a bad omen, and it was not only the polished glossiness of her black fur; she always appeared where death later came. I didn't care; I've always loved cats, and having one of them in my house was a bit of comfort. I wasn't alone.

Sensing my awakening, her almond-shaped eyes flashed with the sharp color of precious stones in the slits of the eyelids—a thick amber glow, not yet warmed by curiosity or playfulness. Yoru tossed and turned, clearly unhappy that someone had disturbed her sleep, arched her back and closed her eyes again.

We could lie like this all day long, in silence and some strange harmonization. I’m sure she’ll get close to me a little bit later, calculating her every move, until he presses on his heart with a peaceful, relaxed purr. Unfortunately, today was not the day I could afford it. Soomin will soon be here, and I need to get a little tidy.

Shower. Food. Simple things. Jars of creams and neatly arranged lipsticks Are there certain rules of appearance when you go to a lawyer? What dress should I wear—a deep neckline or open legs? How decent?

Should I still look mournful? Should I wear a veil? Two months have passed; are other colors acceptable? What will he think of me?

So many questions were spinning in my head while I was going, and it seems to me that whatever I choose, it will still be inappropriate. The story of Mina was not a passing affair; probably everyone in the city had fleetingly heard about her death. One of my friends told me she was called “Queen of Roses” because of the flowers in her hair, and I saw the headlines of the “exquisite death” articles.

The black color dripped venomously to the floor with the long hems of the dresses in my wardrobe; the gray, like a mist, settled in the loops of cardigans and oversized sweaters; and the ghostly white terrified me with thin transparent lace and ruffles, just like on Mina's dress. The choice was not too large.

A jacket dress on a naked body made of thick matte silk, a little pearl, and a high choker collar with long falling threads, It was one of the old jewels I bought in a small antique shop. Vintage trinket in the style of Queen Marie-Antoinette. I had a whole collection of such chokers—some studded with precious stones made of expensive jewelry metals, others woven with the finest threads, like a skillfully woven web. Hard made of steel and leather, and soft, like angelic kisses, made of organza and velour. JiHo once said I had a choke kink if I liked things like that; maybe I did, but my ex was too “vanilla” to close his hands around my neck.

After getting dressed and styling my hair, I sat down on the couch and waited for Soomin to arrive. What should I do now? I was lost. Turn on the TV or read a book? Look at the news feed on Instagram; be sure to look at JiHo's profile to see his new photo. Does he miss me or not? Is someone else warming up his bed now that I'm not around? Is JiHo still wearing the same perfume as before, or has he found something different?

Anyway, I never liked his perfume; it was salty like tears and distant ocean breezes and rancid like decaying wood in the dense Amazon. He called them gourmet; I could only agree if they were worn by someone else, say someone more dominant and powerful. Maybe I would even find this strange, gloomy mixture of aromas attractive, inhaling it from someone else's hot skin and feeling with the touch of my lips a steadily beating pulse in the swollen veins on a strong neck.

How long does love last? Three years or more? For me, it's a moment; for others, it's an eternity. I loved him. It's true. Very strong and very long ago. My love did not resemble the indomitable elements or the explosions of colored fireworks; rather, it was the fragrant bloom of wildflowers and the scattering of stars in the sky. She was comforting, not passionate, and I wanted to see someone like me, someone who could comfort my heart and give me tenderness.

Tenderness and comfort alone were enough for me, but deep inside, I wanted something dangerous, something forbidden. I was devout, one of those people who are called “good girls,” but was it really me or the role that Mina gave me?

Maybe in the far corners of my mind, my thoughts weren’t as good and right as they should be. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, but sometimes when I woke up from another nightmare, I was glad she was dead. Dark, reckless emotions made their way through my cracks; they were moments of despair as my anger lifted its ugly head and oozed poison and blood. My cruelty and hatred had the color of roses and smelled like chocolate. She had fox eyes and a seductive smile; desire flowed in her veins, and strangled thirst was heard in her voice.

In my nightmares, I saw not only Mina and bloody roses; sometimes there was a young man in long silk robes and a veil hiding his face. He's just a ghost; I met mine years ago, but somehow he seems more real to me night by night when he comes into my dreams without permission. He crept into them like a serpent-tempter into the Garden of Eden, slipping away at dawn like the shadow of two moons, hiding behind a door I could never open.

Unreal in my reality.

I felt the arrival of Soomin even before her long nails methodically began to knock on my door. It was as if the spell had been removed and all the sounds of the world had rained down on me in an instant. Yoru shook off her sleep and whirled around at the front door, waiting for an unknown guest. The clatter of high heels echoed in my apartment, slipping through the cracks of the door locks, and the thick smell of ambergris and blooming jasmine at night walked ahead of her, warning every one of her approaches. If I didn’t know better, I could easily have mistaken her for Mina. That was my sister once.

The whole world was just a part of her life; she was not part of the world. To be ordinary—what a bad form!

“Sarang! Sarang, open up. I’m here.” and in fact, her long nails caught on the dark wood of my front door, causing Yoru to bristle and hiss.

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

“Are you awfully loud? Someone told you this, Soo?” I opened the front door wide, smiling softly. “I missed you, Soomin.”

“Don’t tell me about it; I missed that pretty face.” She hugged me, which made Yoru hiss again, attracting Soo’s attention. “When did you get a cat?”

“That’s not my, Yoru cat, my neighbor from apartment 1366, that door.” I waved my hand to the far end of the corridor, where Mrs. Lee’s apartment was located. “I like her; I don’t mind having the baby stay with me sometimes.”

“I see.” There was an awkward pause between us until Soo broke it. “You want to talk about… you know what.” She was worried about this topic; I could see it from the way she shifted from foot to foot, or was it from high heels? In the light of the electric lamps, the steel studs glittered like sharpened spindles from the tale of The Sleeping Beauty.

“Not now. Better tell me about this restaurant we’re going to.” Soomin was easily distracted if you changed the topic of conversation in the direction of a subject of interest to her.

I walked out of the house, taking one last look at Yoru. The cat didn't even think about leaving my space; he was already ensconced in a pile of pillows on the sofa in the living room. If she wasn't going to leave, I wouldn't force her.

“Don’t you need to return the cat to the mistress? She looks expensive.” asked Soo

“She’s a purebred Persian cat, and no, Mrs. Lee won’t worry about it; Yoru can stay with me for weeks before she comes home. This has happened before.”

“All right, if you say so.”

I shut the front door and turned the key, permanently cutting off my escape routes. Today. I have to do this today or my resolve will wear thin, and I will once again voluntarily isolate myself in the comfort of blankets and tightly closed curtains.

"And so, the restaurant..." This was the beginning of a long story that interested no more than random passersby in a faceless crowd.

“You’re going to love this place, I promise. Everything I’ve seen on their Instagram profile is so fascinating, but you know what makes this place really attractive? It’s the owner. Eun Jung was there last week, and she couldn’t shut up about…”

For the next 30 minutes, I heard about this trending establishment. “ Angels' Share” is the most requested boutique café in the last 3 months on all search engines. A luxurious café with exquisite dishes and a magnificent concept.

But most importantly, it is, of course, divine, and Soomin, the owner, was absolutely sure of this. Hundreds of girls lined up in endless lines from dawn to dusk, hoping to see him, at least for a moment.

On your first visit, the owner of “Angels' Share” personally serves you throughout your interruption there. Your name is inscribed in the book of exclusive customers in gold ink. Their main specialty is gourmet desserts, and if you are not seduced by the angelic face of the magnificent man who runs this place, then the sweets melting on your lips will do it instantly.

Full berries of scarlet strawberries in white Belgian chocolate. Mille-feuille with fresh wild berries. The devil's food is the most chocolate of all chocolate cakes, and, of course, the angel cake has the most delicate silk cream of exotic fruits.

As Soomin told me about it, she was clearly having an emotional orgasm. Her arousal was obvious, but I could not understand what she craved more: exquisite desserts or the sweet kiss of the owner.

“I think he's a real angel,” Soo finished her rant after giving a fiery speech about the unique beauty of a man she had never met in her life.

“I'm not sure if it's all true, Soomin, but you'll be able to see for yourself when we get there. You should not trust everything they say. You're too impressionable and trusting.”

We spent the rest of the journey in peaceful silence. This is the type of silence when there are a lot of questions in the air, but each side is not sure when to start asking them. I know she wanted to ask me a lot of things, and in response, I wanted to finally share my experiences and feelings that I had been desperately hiding for the past two months. Nevertheless, each of us remained silent, as if afraid to destroy fragile comfort with uncomfortable words.

When the car stopped, Soomin smiled approvingly at me, as if to say, “Go ahead, my girl!” She was good at it because she was also a cheerleader like Mina.

“Angels' Share” was impressive at first sight, and not only because of the long line of girls lined up in a perfect line and dressed in intricate clothes like collectible dolls on the shelf.

A myriad of flowers, lace, and feathers, pastel shades, and delicate ruffles—all of them looked like animated sugar fantasies. Their cheeks were dusted with pink blush, and their inflated lips were accentuated by a thick layer of transparent sticky gloss with a fine sprinkle of glitter.

Perfectly well-groomed hair is arranged in children’s cute curls or intricate hairstyles with hundreds of sparkling hairpins and velvet bows. The variety of their images was amazing, as was the height of their heels. This place was definitely something special if the girls were willing to sacrifice their comfort for a couple of desserts.

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

At such moments, I especially understood how much we needed someone else's approval. The list of items seems endless: he likes cute girls, girls with an athletic figure, pale skin, and big eyes; she should not be boring; my friends like her; she has long legs and a thin waist; and she is a certain height. I wonder if he'll use a ruler to measure me. Big boobs or a nice ass—which turns him on more? What will our first date be like? That's right; should I call him Oppa or not? Tell me what you want, and I will fulfill whatever you want. I will fulfill every one of your fantasies. Tell me about your desires.

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

I don’t want to live like this. I want to be who I really am, with all my flaws and imperfections. I want to be sharp and rude; I want to be cruel and honest; I want to look as I want, without colorful tinsel and layers of makeup, with cellulite, stretch marks, and a little overweight. That may be so, but it will be me. Just me.

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

“I told you so,” said Soo smugly, purposefully heading for the entrance, circumventing a string of discharged girls. She was a lioness on a hunt, while they were stranded in colorful piles like scared rabbits.

If you do not pay attention to the girls, the exterior is fascinating. Gold, flowers, and crystal resembled the frame of a precious box. “Angels' Share” was positioned in such a way that the sun flooded it from all sides, creating around it a mysterious golden haze of sunlight and a dazzling iridescent play of crystals.

Everything was so beautiful, I won't deny it, but didn't the gingerbread house beckon the children deep into the dark forest where the wicked witch lived? Everything beautiful always has a downside, and someone knows how to mask it better than others.

While I was looking at the details, Soomin dragged me inside and was already talking to the host girl, who was checking the records for a long list of names. She also, like the girls on the street, looked like a doll. Her hair was long and shiny, tucked away from her face with an embroidered rim with Swarovski crystals, and her eyelashes were so lush that they touched her cheeks when she blinked. I would call her beautiful; she licked to perfection, which made it almost unnatural. She had a sweet, high-pitched voice and an overly friendly smile. Annoyingly friendly.

“Please follow me; I'll show you your table. Since you have visited us for the first time, Mr. Yoon will personally take care of you today. Please enjoy your stay at “Angels' Share.”

YooA—that was the name of this girl—led us up the spiral staircase to the second floor. It seemed that everything around was carved from pale golden marble, with the addition of luxurious interior items and thousands of flowers—or, to be more precise, thousands of roses. Snow-white, cream, pastel pink, and soft peach—the whole space breathed rose buds that stood in tall transparent vases.

The sight took my breath away, and I was inwardly tense. It's okay; it's just a café, not Mina's apartment. You need to relax and not start panicking; it will not benefit anyone.

As if sensing my growing panic, Soomin squeezed my palm.

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

“Yes, it’s all right; there are too many roses for my taste; you know, it brings back memories.” I smiled tortuously in response to her words. I didn’t want to ruin her day; she was so excited and happy when we came here.

“We can leave if you are not comfortable, Sarang.” Soo still held my hand, gently walking her thumb over my palm in a comforting circular motion. “If you want to go somewhere else, this is fine. I can always come back here later.”

“No!” came out too loud. “No, I’m fine. I can’t wait to try their chocolate fondant. You know I’m here only for chocolate.” She said the last part with me in one voice.

YooA showed us our table, although it was more like a small loggia separated by airy chiffon tulle and pearl threads from the common room. I could easily fall in love with this place if not for the languid, enveloping smell of roses and the beauty of their lush, perfect buds.

“Do you think the rumors are true, and we'll see an angel appearance today?” Soomin leaned across the table to talk about the owner, not so obviously?

“I think you'll find out about it now, anyway.” I couldn't finish my thoughts, interrupted by Soo's enthusiastic sigh. It was a sound of undisguised admiration that she couldn't hold back, even if she tried.

The reason for her excitement was right behind me, and I had to look back a little to see what it could have been.

Of course, all the sounds of delight belonged to none other than Mr. Yoon. In part, I could understand why he was called angel-like. His beauty was painfully perfect, to the point where it became almost terrible. His face was beautiful—almost obsessively beautiful, like the face of a stone goddess on a grave. Surreal. The skin seemed to glow from the inside, like molten silver flowing through the veins. He had long hair—ashes, platinum, mother-of-pearl—everything mixed on a diamond cloth. One silvery strand fell delicately over his face.

Are the melodies of an angelic choir in the air, or does it just seem that way to me?

The more I looked at him, the more his appearance disgusted me.

I felt flawed and unsuitable, like a puzzle that did not fit the picture; my heart did not beat faster with excitement or sweet agony; I did not burn and did not desire it as it should. Between us, it was possible to draw thousands of parallels in a myriad of universes, and none of them ever intersected. Beauty is deceptive, like a serpent promising forgiveness. It’s the pain of a bittersweet injection entering our nervous tissue.

What do we know about them—angels? White-winged light bearers, without flaws and ignorant of evil and vicious desires, are submissive and faithful to their ideals and purposes. Silent watchers who look after our virtue. But there are those who are chained and silken, whose wings are torn out with bloody flesh, for they are sinners.

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven.

He was not an angel. He was one of them who traded the vaults of heaven for the flames and steel of the nine circles.

His presence was heavy, stifling, and sharp. Goosebumps ran through my skin as an omen of the imminent end.

I could have sworn that the second our eyes met in his eyes, the color of dark bitter chocolate, anger, and disgust thickened. So everything that is perfect collapses, falls, beats, and crumbles like the great walls of Babylon, kissing the transcendental peak of heaven. Like a Venus flytrap, his appearance was a clever disguise of vice and rot in a velvet cage of flesh, and this place is the very gingerbread house that beckons to certain death.

“Welcome to “Angels' Share”. My name is Yoon Sung Hoon; I own this place, and today I will make sure your stay here is unforgettable.” The voice flowed like honey smoothly and gently, I could melt at this tone.

“I am Soomin, and this is Sarang; we have heard a lot about this place.” Soo’s cheeks were pink from a shy blush, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was embarrassed. This man was clearly something special, if he could make Soomin behave like a schoolgirl in love with just his presence.

His eyes rested on my figure for a second, and I wanted to shrink into a ball under this appraising gaze, as if he was trying to probe me and understand how dangerous I could be. It was only a moment, and then a smile shone again on his angelic face.

“I hope you’ve only heard nice things about us. What do you want today?” I wonder what he is used to hearing in response. I want you and your love, and I will accept everything you would not give me. Will you be my boyfriend? My husband? Will you give me eternal love? Judging by the expression on Soomin's face, this is exactly what she wanted to ask him, but she pulled herself up in time.

“I want to taste your best dessert.” As they say, kill them with your sweetness. Where has my self-sufficiency and t.” As they say, “kill them with your sweetness.” Where has my self-sufficient and confident self gone? Soo, this blushing mess was nothing like hers.

“Of course, only the best is for you. And what do you want?” All his attention was now drawn to me, and I had no pleasure. Yoon Sung Hoon is clearly not used to girls not falling at his feet like moths hitting the glass. Our dislike was mutual. Our dislike was mutual. “What do you want, Sarang? I would recommend one of our most special desserts: a white chocolate soufflé with candied scarlet roses.” Sung Hoon was smiling, but not at all benevolent; there was something mocking in the exquisite curve of his lips, as if he were challenging me: “Come on, try me.”

Roses. Those damn roses again. It always came down to these flowers. Were they my path leading away from the dark forest, or would they lead me straight to the crystal coffin in the tallest tower of the castle?

Instead of politely refusing, as a true lady should, I have given a crude, hoarse, and utterly evil speech:

“I hate roses.”

For me, flowers are as beautiful as the pain of a broken heart. You can call me a heartbreaker. What will your heart taste like? I'm so eager to try it.

“My apologies.” Sung Hoon bowed his head, hiding his gaze in the lace of fluttering eyelashes and platinum bangs. With this simple action, Soomin once again made a barely audible, enthusiastic sound. “In this case, I offer you our signature chocolate fondant with raspberry jam and glass caramel glaze. Our clients say that he has a heavenly taste, so celestial that he can be sinful.”

Sung Hoon—there was something about him that disgusted me. His way of speaking, his appearance, his behavior—in general, every detail of it The most beautiful apple on the branch will always be wormy. I couldn't understand how he could charm girls in a split second, without any effort, as if it were in his blood—to cause desire and awe.

During our short conversation, Soo did not look at me once, inseparably studying every detail of the angelic man. If I make an incision in his skin, will the gold pour as befits angels, or will it be the viscous and black acid that Pandora once shed from her eyes?

I didn’t like it here. I didn’t like Yoon Sung Hoon, and he probably didn’t like me. How was I in his eyes—insignificant, puny, ordinary? Our dislike was mutual but totally unfounded; I just knew I didn’t want to be in the same space with him. I can’t breathe.

Guests always leave after dessert. I didn't want to linger, so I agreed to fondant. “Okay, I'll take fondant and cappuccino.” I looked at Soomin again; her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, judging by the bitten lower lip and flushed cheeks. “And matcha latte, please.”

“Of course, ladies…” With this phrase, he finally left us, and I sighed deeply.

“I think I'm in love, Sarang.” Apparently, with his passing, Soo’s brain has resumed active activity. “He absolutely justifies all the rumors about him.”

“Yeah, I can agree with that; he’s definitely something very special.”

After Sung Hoon served desserts and another 10 minutes of heated discussion of his appearance, our conversation took its normal course. It’s like ping-pong; the rules are very simple: move from one question to another, follow the theme, and don’t miss your turn. “How's the work?” “Everything is fine.” “How’s your boyfriend?” “You remember I told you we broke up?” “What have you been doing lately?” “Too much to do; I can’t remember, but recently I came back from Japan”, “Did you like it there?” “Great seats and great cuisine.” “How do you feel, Sarang?” Say it again; I didn’t hear you.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” Once again, you speak unclearly.

“How do you feel, Sarang?” It's so loud here, I can't hear you.

“Sarang?!” Can I skip my turn? I’m tired of this game.

I took a deep, slow breath.

“What do you want me to say, Soo? Something that will calm you down or something that should comfort me? ”

“Truth, Sarang. I want to hear the truth from you.” Soomin looked at me so carefully that it seemed as though she was looking straight into my soul.

My mind moved from one thought to another, not knowing what it would focus on. Truth. What is it like, this truth? She is like a beautiful, spiritually disheveled monster with a lesbian couple of black widows in an aquarium; she exists in an endless eternity of joyful decadence and an ecstatic nightmare.

It’s no big deal to tell someone the truth, but are you ready to see your own reflection in someone else’s eyes? They say alcohol is a liquid truth, but I think it's nothing more than a road strewn with bread crumbs, straight into a dense, dark forest. The more you drink, the deeper you go. Sometimes, through the intricately woven stems of condemnation and bitterness, subtle rays of understanding break through, like the light shed by the dual face of the moon. But this happens so rarely that the eyes themselves become accustomed to the surrounding darkness.

I’m still afraid of the dark and, therefore, of the truth. Now I’m sure I’m allergic to the world.

When I looked at the café, I noticed that there were many more people. Bunny girls with colorful barrettes occupied small transparent tables filled with all sorts of desserts; others, similar to porcelain dolls, put their palms to their cheeks, flushed with embarrassment, and laughed loudly, sitting in the same loggias as ours. The sounds of clicks from selfies and aesthetic Instagram photos did not subside for a second, as did the high play of voices merging with soft background music.

This probably wasn’t the best place for such a serious conversation, but was it ever the perfect place to have a heart-to-heart?

“Honestly, I don't know. Really?” I began, stirring the thick, fragrant foam from the cappuccino. It tasted like a first kiss—a little bitter, a little sweet—something that I would like to repeat again and again. “Secrets, secrets, and more secrets—everywhere I look, no matter what I ask, they only get bigger. Everything is as usual: Mina died, and the world is still spinning around her. Remember, I told you that they still send roses? I can say that soon the cemetery will start selling bouquets because there is simply nowhere to put them. Every day there are fresh flowers on the grave.” Maybe I sounded a little petty and annoyed, but I didn't care. “I may not seem like the best person on this planet, but sometimes I feel absolutely happy that I finally managed to bury her in the ground.” Yes, this is exactly the right moment; you are not mistaken. That was my truth, like salt and pepper, like ashes, like burned dreams.

Soomin shook her head negatively.

“You shouldn't talk about yourself like that, Sarang; you're not a bad person, and we both know it; everyone around you knows it; and even that bastard JiHo knows it. You have gone through a lot, and if I were you, I would have gone crazy long ago, but look at yourself: you are here with me, in the noise of the metropolis, and you have your whole life ahead of you.” She put her hand on top of mine, and the warmth of her body penetrated mine. “Mina was who she was, and neither you nor me nor anyone else could change her. So don't let her ghost poison your life. I'm not a fan of this entire Nancy Drew thing, but I won't dissuade you. If you want my help, I'm on board.”

I laughed bitterly, taking a sip of the coffee that had already cooled. There was something special about it—sweet, ice-cold coffee, like long-cooled love.

“Yeah, you’re right; she was who she was, but I guess we were wrong about that because those flowers broke her in half. In fact, that’s the whole point of the question: where did the roses come from? She was interested in nothing but flowers and some strange prayers. She frightened me. You know, at first it looked like another love of hers; everything was as usual—she talked incessantly about flowers and admired them, but the more roses they sent us, the less she was interested in the rest of the world. Mina withered and languished while the roses bloomed. I've never seen anyone come to our house or meet someone. Nothing, just roses—hundreds of roses. You just can't imagine how many there were.”

“You know, I don’t really want to imagine it. Okay, let’s say you find something in her files. What’s next? You really need this? Maybe we should just let go, you know, scatter the ashes to the wind.” Breaking off a slice of angel cake, Soo mooed in satisfaction as the dessert was in her mouth. “Mmm, I love sweets. Who handled her legal affairs? If this is one of the free lawyers, we should hurry; the queues in these cantors are worse than here.”

“No, no, we're not going to a free advocacy team. Wait a minute.” I pulled out of my purse a small card from a thick black cardboard and handed it to Soomin. Transparent gloss on a soft matt surface looked refined and very expensive, just like the business card itself. “Silver & Black LTD” was the name of the law firm that handled Mina’s affairs.

“You’re kidding me!” She exclaimed, almost burying her face in her business card. “That’s “Silver and Black.” How did she manage to work with them? They’re one of the most elite law practitioners in all of Seoul, and I’d say across Asia. Their lawyers are real sharks in their cases; for the existence of their practice, they have not lost a single case, and the bills for their services are simply cosmic. How does she have so much money? Sarang, did you inherit her sugar daddy too? If that's the case, ask for more; you're much more expensive than a cheerleader, and nerds are always sexier and more desirable.”

“Stop saying that like I’m a whore. I don’t know where she got the money, but are their services so expensive?” My surprise was obvious. Our family was not poor, but we were not rich; we occupied that golden layer in the class hierarchy where we could just live without any worries about tomorrow. Mina and I were well provided for, but judging by Soomin’s reaction, “Silver and Black” could afford only filthy rich and influential people.

“If I were to be offered the opportunity to trade my virginity for cooperation with them, I would have done it without hesitation. Are you sure we have an appointment with them?”

“Soomin!” Frankness was always such a simple thing for her that I felt awkward at such moments. “Of course, I called them yesterday to confirm the details.”

“What? The cult of virginity is overrated anyway, but now I'm much more interested in it.”

“Let me think, more amazing men?” “How did you guess?” Soo smiled sweetly, shoving another piece of dessert into her mouth. I snorted; I couldn’t help it. "Hey, don’t laugh! You should also consider new options, since you and JiHo have broken up. Listen to me, little Sarang, nothing will warm your bed better than a hot big boy."

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

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sempersirens · 8 months

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yes, chef | part three

a follow-up to this request from the lovely @cool-iguana

read part one and part two

summary: domestic bliss doesn't last long with a man who doesn't know how to regulate his emotions at the idea of losing someone he loves

pairing: no-outbreak!au, chef!joel x f!reader

content/warnings: lots of angst, swearing

a/n: omg as a brit writing stories set in the US i always forget how far states are from each other.... wym you can't just hop on the train from houston to new york?

In theory, you'd always wanted to be a morning person.

You envied the ease of Joel's body slipping out from the sheets each morning, never fighting with his eyelids for just five more minutes of rest.

The break of dawn was probably your favourite time of the day; you just preferred to soak it all in warm and semi-lucid from Joel's bed. The ambience of car engines on the street below slowly waking up mixed with Joel's coffee pot singing on the stove felt like a hymn sung only for you. You'd shut your eyes - only momentarily, before hearing the door creak open and the large white mug you'd claimed as your own being set down beside you on the nightstand.

Strategically, it was lucky that Joel always had to get to the restaurant hours before you. But each morning you wished you could pull him back under the duvet and sink yourself into his chest until it was impossible to decipher where you ended and he began.

Showering after spending a night with Joel felt like sacrilege. If it wasn't for the sweat and other fluids clinging to your skin, you would wear the remnants of his touch and scent on your body like an expensive French perfume.

The restaurant was always hectic, but now nearing the festive season everything seemed to intensify rapidly. However, screwing the boss did have its perks; you'd managed to sneak a couple of days off last week to visit a friend from culinary school in New York.

While you were there, she'd taken you to one of her favourite spots in the city, introducing you to the head chef who was a friend of hers. He'd asked about your current role and you told him everything about working for the Joel Miller - strategically omitting the parts where he has you pinned against the stove after hours.

You'd thought nothing of it after that, knowing it would mostly be inconvenient to hire someone halfway across the country when culinary grads were lurking on every corner in the city. You didn't want to leave Joel, either. You didn't plan on staying at his restaurant for the rest of your life - even he didn't, but things were good. You felt secure for the first time in your life.

Finally arriving at the restaurant, you sang a chirpy "Mooorning!" into the kitchen before dumping your things into your locker. As you tied your apron around your figure, Joel emerged from the office, eyes dark and trained on the floor.

"Good morning, chef." You cooed in a low tone, letting your voice rasp every so slightly.

He kept his eyes on the ground, grunting something inaudible vaguely in your direction before stalking into the kitchen.

Weird.

Whenever you and Joel got a moment alone he would always take advantage of your solitude, even if only for a couple of seconds. He'd seemed fine at the house this morning, you'd heard him singing along to The Supremes while making breakfast. Maybe the wrong amount of stock had been delivered; the tiniest of setbacks were often enough to dictate his mood for the entire day.

You pushed the encounter to the back of your mind, redirecting your attention to your prep for the day.

"Has anyone seen my boning knife?" You shouted over your shoulder after all but turning your station inside out.

Before you could turn your head, a heavy hand slammed the knife in front of you.

"Was on the floor when I got here this mornin'. Watch your shit and clean your station." Joel growled, loud enough for the rest of the kitchen to hear.

"Yes, chef." You bowed your head, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.

You were more than familiar with his sharp tongue and short temper, but there was something about the way he spat his words at you that sent an unease through your body. He'd made you feel small. Why couldn't he have left the knife on your station for you when he found it? It seemed like such a petty thing for him to do.

Not wanting to let his mood rub off on you, you brushed it off and carried on with your tasks before service started.

The morning rushed past in a haze, and soon enough orders were coming through. Joel had remained eerily quiet for the majority of the morning, you almost wished he would shout at you to simply acknowledge your presence.

He hadn't found a single excuse to touch you, an act of affection he often employed while he made his rounds through the stations. You felt like you were a child being given the silent treatment by your mother, all of a sudden you were six again, tugging at the hem of her dress begging for her to look at you.

You were in the midst of prepping a monkfish and kohlrabi main with cauliflower and dates, almost ready for it to go to the pass, when you felt his presence behind you.

"Sauce ain't reduced enough."

"With respect, chef, it has two more minutes on heat."

He left before returning with a spoon, dipping it into your saucepan of monkfish stock.

"Needs lime."

"I'm going to add lime before it goes on the pass. As I said, it's not finished yet."

"Fuckin' useless." He muttered quietly under his breath, but you caught it.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"I said you're fuckin' useless. Slow, no attention to detail, don't know why you're still in my kitchen."

Your heart sank deep into the pit of your stomach, sweat coating your palms. All eyes were on you both, and the sizzle of your burning sauce on the stove was the least of your worries.

"How dare you speak to me like that?" You fought for your voice to not waiver.

Was this part of your act? Had he taken the game you both played too far? There was no softness in his eyes, no remorse or realisation that his words had stung you.

Before he could dismiss you from the kitchen, you untied your apron and threw it to the ground, letting your hard work char and spit on the stove.

You didn't say a word as you snatched your things, bustling through the back door without another glance.

"Where the fuck d'you think you're going? You don't get to walk out of here mid-service just because y'needed more damn lime." Joel called from behind you.

"This isn't about the fucking lime, Joel. How could you speak to me like that? I thought, I thought-"

"You need to get some thicker skin. They ain't gonna coddle you like I do in New York."

The words must've slipped out of his mouth judging by the way his eyes widened at the mention of New York.

"What are you talking about?"

"They called me this mornin' - for a reference. Told me how impressed they were meetin' you."

You wanted to reach out and touch him, to console him and tell him how this was all just a horrible misunderstanding. Then his words replayed in your head. Every time you looked into his big, angry eyes all you could hear was useless, fuckin' useless.

"Grow up, Joel. Maybe if you'd have talked to me about it like a fucking adult I could've told you it wasn't like that."

"Oh yeah, what was it like? You plan on fuckin' your way to the top there too, or that just with me?"

He was being unjustly cruel and he knew it. This wasn't a power play for you, and he knew that. Although you'd never said it, you loved him, and you were almost certain that he loved you too.

But this was too much - he had pushed you too far this time. There was no coming back from this.

"Fuck you, Joel."

taglist: @cool-iguana @skysmiller @lhymer1995 @brittmb115 @moonlightdivine @reallyidontcare @nana90azevedo @spookyanamurdock @lovely-ateez @spookyanamurdock @bbyanarchist @joeldjarin @nostalxgic @axshadows @jenispunk @noisynightmarepoetry @thoughtfulmoonchild911

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #my fic #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dee writes #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader

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howi99 · 1 month

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Team RWBY + "Marie" camping for the night

???: *sigh*

Ruby: Hey, are you ok?

???: Uh? Oh yeah... Say, how's the world out there? Remnant, i believe?

Ruby: *sitting next to her* I'm not the best to explain but i got pictures if you want.

???: That would be nice.

*as Ruby showed "Marie" the numerous places she took pictures in remnant, "Marie" seems to be interested by a particular couple.

???: I see that you have a lot of pictures of those two, who are they?

Ruby: They are my best friends, Jaune and Penny. We traveled a lot with his team. *Worried* I really hope they are ok. With what Weiss said, they were being attacked by Cinder before she fell... *Shacking her head* I'm sure they are alright, i'm sure Jaune had a plan, he always does!

???: *looking at the ground, speaking quietly* i hope he does....

Ruby: What?

???: *sigh* Nothing. But anyway, what are they like?

Ruby: Oh! Well, Jaune and Penny are- *began to explain all the adventures they had together, leaving Marie completely bewildered by all the new information*

???: Woah, they seem to be a real close duo. Though the fun facts were uh...

Ruby: Oh, they are! Completely inseparable! And yeah... They are not the best knowledge to be stuck in your brain... You know, you seem a lot less secretive compared to this morning.

???: *a bit embarrassed* It's more of an act than anything really. Sorry if i called you little Red. Someone i know called me that recently and it stuck.

Ruby: Someone else, eh? What's their name?

???: He appeared recently. Though i don't remember his name, i really liked his hat! He also had a friend with him but she didn't talk much. They were already near the city so they should already be there.

Ruby: ......... Was one tall with orange hair and the other pink and brown?

???: yeah! They fell with you?

Ruby: Oh boy. They are... Friendnemy? Allies of circumstances? Anyway, they are not good news unsupervised, so we really need to find them when we arrive, ok?

???: *shrugs* if you say so.

Yes, Roman didn't die in that AU. It's part of the rework i'm doing on it.

#jaune arc #rwby #rwby au #jaune is a genius au #ruby rose #oc

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amitiagailec · 20 days

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Wowie what's this? Me active in Tumblr (and Discord again??)

I am still uncertain how I want to go with this but I am motivated by the idea of making an AU in CRK. Look if you want content you gotta make em yourself.

Not much is decided but here's the idea so far:

Fragment!AU. SM is named Ternate Milk Cookie/Fragment!SM

•Inspired from how a part of WL (or WL herself now) "survived"/stayed lingering despite DE, I just decided maybe the Beasts will have a manifestation of their own, be it just remnants/manifestations of them that continues to walk Earthbread despite their true selves being sealed.

Just as how the soul jams can kinda imitate and preserve the will of their holders it seemed, I think they'd be somewhat like that in that regard, in the middle of the Darkness and Light of the Virtues.

•TM Cookie as manifestation of SM is often at Ghost City and Blueberry Yogurt Academy, because of connection to his past, a continuation of what he started as the Virtue, and the source of power/dimension of this place.

•There's also SM's territory in Beast Yeast. But he doesn't always do so.

•This decreased after PV inherited the Light of Truth, but not completely.

•Every headmaster of the academy is aware of TM. From every predecessor to a new one he is to be regarded as a "guest" providing him things when he needed it, and only be cautious when he is displaying...tendencies. Every once in a while, some professors would find an unknown Cookie wandering the school and disappearing before they could find him. Most times they'd forget but the quiet rumor of a ghost lingers from time to time.

•Students when familiar are very much warned when they were found to have seen or interacted with him for there have been a few cases of...luring.

•Despite the wariness, TM still provides support every once in awhile. Correcting formulas for spells and potions by professors, returning books to the library when someone forgot and often arranging them, making suggestions to the headmasters themselves, and teaching young cookies when they passed by him. The last one be how he will bond with a certain Cookie.

•As a manifestation, TM cannot interact with anything in his surroundings unless he puts his effort into it, drawing from what energy and magic he can, another reason why the place is important. Appearing alone draws a lot from him if he were anywhere else.

•He can recall what knowledge he still has from before, but anything related to Beast Yeast, his comrades, and his own deeds are always blocked from his mind. Any trigger makes him uncomfortable. He'd eventually forget that happened.

•TM is still connected to his real self SM, who would often show when his attitude changes. Just another way of SM to interact and spectate outside of his prison, mostly showing when his expression darkens. What TM forgets, SM remembers very well.

#crk #cookie run #crk au #shadow milk cookie #fragment au #vanillaverse #except its just my SM for now #pv is in academy days or pre as well #what is this lore dump

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wangxianficfinder · 6 months

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Fic Finder

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1. Can anyone find me wangxian fic in which lan zhan captures nie huisang and nie huisang ask Wei wuxian helps to save his brother from Meng Yao in nightless city @wangxianpet

FOUND? The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

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2. I need help looking for a fic please.

All I can remember about it is that they were smuggling Wen Ning and possibly Wen Qing across a border somewhere and they put a fake mustache on Wen Ning. People kept complimenting it, even the bad Wens they came across, and some possibly even grew their own Wen Ning-staches after. WWX might've been dressed as a woman? I can't remember for sure.

Thank you!

NOT FOUND! Propagate Understanding by draechaeli (E, 175k, wangxian, not everyone dies, pregnancy kink, consensual non-con, adoption but they’re all birthed by wwx, mo xuanyu lives, temporary character death)

FOUND! Bloom where you are planted 🔒 by luckymoonly (M, 44k wangxian, MM/WQ, Canon Divergence, Fix It, courting, Mpreg, Sunshot Campaign, Fluff, Happy Ending, getting together early, Romance, WWX giving birth in the middle of the war? Most likely than you think!, Yúnmèng Siblings Feels, Smut, Drama, Blood and Violence, Minor Character Death, There Is Only One Bed, No Fall of Lotus Pier, Crossdressing, Shotgun Wedding, Mention of miscarriage (not WWX), wangxian Have a Breeding Kink, Giving Birth, Soft granduncle LQR)

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3. I just remembered a fic that would fit in the ghost comp but I forgot it's name 😔 it was a fic about wx haunting a house together and I think taking care of a yuan as they do? I may be thinking of two fics because I think there was one where they were ghosts in the bm and raised yuan too but in this one they died in a fire i believe and the house was alive? Again may be combining fics 😅 thank you!

Yes I think that was the bm fic I was thinking of! But I can't remember much of the house fic besides I think wen ning and wen qing lived in the house with yuan? And I think either xichen or Jiang Cheng appear at one point?

Those are definitely 2 different fics. I remember reading the Burial Mounds one, where they're both ghosts and they raise A-Yuan together, and there was no house fire. Couldn't find it myself, but hopefully that'll help someone else find one or both of these...

FOUND! Gently Haunted by LusBeatha (T, 19k, WangXian, Character Death, Sentient Burial Mounds, Autistic LWJ, Shutdowns, Canon Divergence, Ghosts, Child LSZ, Oblivious WWX, Getting Together, Ghost Marriage, ghost parenting, Grief/Mourning, but only for ghosts that are still present, Golden Core Reveal, Soup, Happy Ending) Wouldn't the one where they are both ghost raising A-Yuan in the Burial mounds be "Gently Haunted" by LusBeatha?

FOUND? The Ghostly Adventures of Wen Yuan by Llamamomo (Not Rated, 13k, WangXian, Ghost WWX, Ghost LWJ, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Supernatural Elements, Modern AU, Murder Mystery, Haunted Houses)

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4. For the fic finder, there's a fic I'm pretty sure I first found somewhere on this or the recs blog but I can't for the life of me find again. It deals with WWX accepting a deal where he'll be a prisoner of the Nie clan if the Wen remnants are promised safety. NHS is happy to have his friend around, but it's major depression hours for WWX

I remember him neglecting himself to the point of not brushing his hair for weeks

Thank you 💕

FOUND? Always walked a very thin line by tucuxi (T, 22k, NHS & WWX, JYL & WWX, WangXian)

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5. Hello! I hope you all have been having a great day. I have been plagued by this fic that I just can't remember the title! 😭

It was a post-canon fic where WWX just kept "bothering" LXC in his seclusion and sorta made him help in his research. There was also a scene where WWX got injured and LXC was there to help.

I really appreciate your help and thank you 🥺❤️

Agapé (home is in your arms) by estel_willow (G, 14k, WangXian, fraternal bonding, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Wwx is oblivious, lxc is patient, sizhui remains the best son, Wwx uses his words, Or tries to at least, Wwx is an unreliable narrator, Light Angst, well semi-lite angst, canon-typical self dislike from our favourite chaotic disaster bi)

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6. Hey! I was hoping you could help me find a fic. WWX has some "ghost brides" while they're living in burial mounds. There's some description of these ghosts picking and pulling at his clothes, skin, etc.

Hey! I'm #6 on the latest fic finder. I'm afraid that's not the fic I was looking for. It doesn't have f/f wangxian or any gender bending. The fic I'm looking for doesn't have any smut either

Not FOUND your grave, a garden; a barrow, your bed by twinagonies (E, 31k, Female WangXian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Ruke 63, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, BDSM, Power Play, Undernegotiated Kink, Restraints, Bondage, Impact Play, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Porn With Plot, Golden Core Reveal, Wēn Remnants Live, Mental Health Issues, Plants, WWX's Ghost Girls, Sex Magic, Dual Cultivation, POV LWJ, Switching) a wild guess but this one has the ghost brides doing a lot of touching with wwx. it is a genderbent f/f wangxian so it might not be right

FOUND? 🔒💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriages)

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7. I am looking for a specific untamed fiction. It is modern day. Wei wuxian is an omega. Supposed to rule all the clans. Gets injured when the Jiang fall. Lan zhan finds him and helps heal him in the back mountains. Later meet when the clans start fighting to mate wuxian. Lan zhan is selected as his guardian. Ruohan tries to force a mating but gets killed by wuxian.

Recesses basically function as assassins.

Qinghe tend to function as military.

Huasang and Lan zhan have similar scents. @manalover

FOUND? Under Red Skies by AngelSpirit (E, 169k, wangxian, graphic depicitons of violence, Soulmates, Fantasy, Wolves, Wolf Pack, Wolf Shifters, Alpha LWJ, Asena WWX, Wolf hierarchy, Everybody-wants-WWX, Multiple Time Skips, Canon Setting, Modern Cultivation, Fluff and Angst, Smut, Mating Bond, Werewolf, Scenting, Marking, Biting, primal, Royalty, Slow Burn, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX)

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8. Hi! I've been trying to find an a/b/o fic (Lz is an alpha and Wy an omega). What I remember of the plot is that people thought Wy was always hooking up around. Lz had a one night stand with him to try getting over his own feelings for Wy. When Wy went days later to confess to him, Lz said something about Wy hooking up around, and Wy left crying because Lz also believed the rumors about him. Wx, who was Lwj's roommate, said something about fucking Wy, so Lz punched him and went to apologize to Wy.

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9. for the next fic finder: i only know that it was post-cql and wangxian were writing each other letters until wwx broke his leg very badly on a night hunt? i don't remember much else, im sorry!

FOUND? Between The Lines by Witch_Nova221 (M, 153k, WangXian, Epistolary, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Letters, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Long-Distance Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Canon, Idiots in Love)

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10. Hi! For the next itmf, I have been looking for a fanfic in my bookmark and my history I couldn't find it 😅

I think it's (abo) I don't remember quite good I think Jiang Cheng ran away for lotus pier with wei ying to the woods later on lan zhan and lan xichen will find them and take them back to lotus pier, madam yu wants to beat wei ying and wei ying take the blame and Jiang Cheng wants to stop madam yu because lan zhan was there to and lan zhan is wei ying mate, and I think lan zhan will step in front of wei ying, and later on Jiang fengmian slap Jiang Cheng(I think it chapter 9 or something 😅) @rayan12sworld

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11. Hi! I remember reading a modern au fic on AO3 where Lan Wangji, while preparing for an arranged/political marriage, finds out he was actually married to Wei Wuxian and needs to divorce lest he commit bigamy. Lan Wangji does not remember getting married at all! Less clear on the following details: Wei Wuxian was either missing or dead, and Lan Wangji travels to the courthouse where it happened for more info. He finds on the back of a photo of the occasion that Wei Wuxian had written it was the happiest day of his life.

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12. Hi. Firstly I wanna say I absolutely adore this blog and thank you for providing us WangXian fans with amazing fanfiction.

I've been dying to find this one fanfic but I have no idea where it is now and after constant serching I decided to give it ago.

From what I remember: Lan Wangji is taken prisoner and kept in a prison next to Wei WuXian who is some sort of creature (a Phionex to be exact) and Lan Wangji watched helplessly as he is tortured everyday to provide for the Wen Sect using his tears, Phionex cry, etc.

I also remember Wei WuXian helps him escape the prison and Lan Zhan goes back for him but (I think) Wei WuXian already burnt Nightless City and saved the civilians and the Wens but is unconscious.

Please, I hope you have better luck in finding this fic, I've been dying to reread it.

Thank you in advance!!!

FOUND? a thousand hills, no birds in flight | 千山鳥飛絕 by defractum (nyargles) (E, 26k, WangXian, Mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon adjacent setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

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13. Hi! I’m looking for a Pregji fic. It’s post-canon and I think wangxian had some sort of post-sex misunderstanding that led wwx to leave. Lwj finds out after that he’s pregnant. I remember the juniors going out and searching for wwx, trying to bring him back. (I checked the Pregji compilation, but it wasn’t there and it’s not under the pregnant Lan zhan tag on AO3) thank you!

FOUND? A Joy That’s Hard to Find by airinshaw (E, 26k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Mpreg, Misunderstandings, Minor Angst, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Kissing) After their first and only night together Wei Wuxian disappears. As Lan Wangji tries to find him again, he gradually realises that Wei Wuxian left him with an unintended gift.

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14. Mood for story where wei wuxian disappears into some faraway land with cliffs. Then appears as some powerful sect with the wen survivors and song lan xiao xing chen. Apparently he rides a dragon to battle.

FOUND? 💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX survives, sect leader WWX, yiling wei sect au, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending, getting together, pining, love confessions, reunions, mind all the tags)

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15. Hi 😊 huge fan of your blog, I've found so many gems here so thank you and keep up the good work.

I read a fic last year and it's driving me insane because I cannot find it please help....I such at summaries but I can recall that LWG stepped in front of a sword that was met for Yanli , they thought he died because his brother had him away . WWX gives him self up to the lan sect for punishment @b-rabbitsposts

FOUND? If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Loss, YLLZ WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

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16. hi there! for the finder; theres this one v specific scene i can remember but nothing else. it was definitely canon divergence — they were trying to save yzy and jfm (after the massacre of lotus pier), and they were still alive. they brought them to wq, who did heal them, but jfm was worse for wear while yzy... out for revenge i think? i cant remember all else but if anyone has an idea that'd be great thank you! @revellingfate

NOT FOUND! could be "A Price To Pay" by wangxianist, which was sadly deleted

FOUND! I’m aching and I know you are too by edenwolfie (M, 236k, WangXian, XuanLi, Canon Divergence, Fluff, POV Alternating, POV Outsider, Family Feels, Humor, Romance, Engagement, Fix-It, Drunken Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Qíshān Wēn Indoctrination, Canon-Typical Violence, Fall of Lotus Pier, Sunshot Campaign, First Time, Possessive Behavior, Panic Attacks, Everybody Lives, Established Relationship)

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17. Hi, I'm hoping that you could help me find a fic. It was after wwx death, lwj keep on dreaming a life where wwx didn't die. Then he found out that the incense burner is the source of his dream. To avoid the pain of losing wwx, lwj start to sleep more and it started to affect his health. Lqr and lxc notice this and try to interfere since lwj condition keep getting worse as he choose to stay asleep. They tried to warn and stop lwj but he ignored them and keep using the incense burner. Later lqr and lxc found out that lwj is dead. Sorry if I'm ranting but that's all I can recall. I can't remember the name and wish to read it again. I would really appreciate it if you could help me find it. Thank you in advance! @mayuchi96

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18. Hi lovely Mods! (＾▽＾) I hope you can help me find these fics I've been looking for!

A) WWX builds (is that the word?) a new core, that isn't a golden core, and I think it's something about yin vs. yang cultivation?

B) WWX grow op with XXC, and I think WWX get a title in the same style as XXC and SL?

C) I just remember a scene where LWJ gives WWX a knife (dagger?) made of like the same material a Bichen, and say something about it protecting him when LWJ can't?

hope you have a great day!

18A)

Not FOUND Did I Not Explain Why the Sunset Turns Red? by 3988Akasha (E, 110k, wangxian, time travel, canon divergence, Canonical Character Death, Soulmates, Demonic Cultivation, Original Female Character(s), Emotional Constipation, Minor Character Death, Hand Jobs, Sexual Content, Bathing/Washing, Idiots in Love, Poetry, Mild Gore, Anal Sex, Angst, Rimming, Blow Jobs)

FOUND? 🧡 Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WangXian, WWX & WQ & WN, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Angst, Not JC Friendly, BAMF WWX)

FOUND? 🧡 a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke ( M, 180k, WangXian, Arranged marriage, Canon Divergence, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Canon typical violence)

18B)

Not FOUND I Will Call You By Name by DisasterMages (T, 73k, SongXiao, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Family Feels) I'm not sure about the title for WWX but he grew up with XXC and SZC

18C)

FOUND! 💖 Looking at You Always, All Ways by Keysmashed T, 29k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, fluff, nostalgia, mild angst w/ happy ending)

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19. A) I have been searching for a specific fic for a while but I cannot find it anywhere. It's an ABO Au with Alphaji and Omegaxian, LWJ is older (35ish) and WWX younger (18ish) and they're being set up on an arranged marraige. WWX is originally hesitant but falls for LWJ and it turns out LWJ travelled from a universe where WWX died and found this one where he lives. There's a scene where LWJ gets jelous of LJY and one where WWX dolls up to look silly but YZY lets him bc he looks cute. Thank you!

B) I remember very little about this fanfic except that LWJ travels back in time to his child body but keeps his power so everyone thinks he's a reincarnated ancestor (or smth)so let him do anything, this includes him destroying the wall of rules. I think WWX also has returned and the story follows both of them. It's the destruciton of the wall that sticks most in mind. Any info would be amazing! Thank you!! @yilingweiclan

19A)

FOUND? 4018 by sweetlolixo (E, 28k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, ABO, Older LWJ, Immortal LWJ, Pregnant WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Age Difference, Boypussy, Vaginal Fingering, Dry Humping, Knotting, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talking LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Size Difference, Feminization)

19B)

FOUND? A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 74k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, musical cultivation, Slow Burn, Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Demonic Cultivation, POV WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Worldbuilding, No Yīn Iron, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Artist WWX, Musician WWX, Night Hunts, Fate & Destiny, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Golden Core, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Father-Son Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship, Angry WWX, Pining WWX, WWX is Not Okay, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Pining LWJ, POV LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell Wangxian, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, WIP)

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20. Oh woops, missed the collection window.

Anyways I've been trying to find this fic for a few weeks now, so no rush.

I'm trying to find a specific fic that is NOT decay by antebunny, because I was reading that one and got reminded of the fic I'm trying to find!! But it has a similar plot hook: the Lans broker a ceasefire with the Yiling Patriarch, under the condition that they purify WWX of resentful energey & WWX agrees, even though he assumes it will kill him. Unlike "decay", i think in this fic the purification ritual was held *not* at Cloud Recesses -- maybe in Koi Tower?? Anyways LWJ is also the one to perform the purification, halfway through he realizes what the ritual is doing to WWX and improvises a change in the music to save his life, while still making it seem like the proper ritual was completed. @businesstiramisu

FOUND! A Moment's Warning by Neery (G, 8k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Misunderstandings, Golden Core Reveal, JL Gets His Bracelet)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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