#you love your daughter and you have never heard her speak. you wear your child’s ribbon in your hair.

[faggerardway]

his ass is NOT mentally stable 🙅‍♂️‼️ (just legitimately teared up and felt awful about qsmp eggs)

#there’s just fucking something in the water with these guys #you love your daughter and you have never heard her speak. you wear your child’s ribbon in your hair. #you and one other person are the only ones with the codes to your son’s room. she could still be alive if only you had been there. #you give your son armor and you hope it is enough. you tell her her drawings are beautiful and you hope it is enough. #you bring a picture of them everywhere and you hope it is enough. you know it is not. #love pours out of every opening and it is not enough. you gamble riches and secrets and souls and it is not enough. #nothing you can do is enough to make them stay and it is not your fault. you didn’t ask for this. any of it. but you would do it all again. #you have never heard your child speak or seen their sunny smile or ruffled their hair or been able to save them. and there is so much love #in that;in not enough. in signs on every block. in tiny gardens. in books for every day of the week.in the stillness of a room without them #there is so so much love in a final sunny day. in i am here. i am with you. #you have never touched your child and you would rip a world apart for them. maybe that would be enough. #qsmp #my writing #<- i suppose

[phantomrose96]

Savit-e

My host mother is a woman with long twirling hair and more floral-patterned sundresses than I’ve seen in my entire life. She throws open the closet each morning to flick each dress along its hanging rail, sharp squeaks. “What can I even wear?” The dresses sway like summer willows. I sneak in behind her and grab a t-shirt and jeans from my tiny pile at the bottom.

She loves earrings that swing and she loves stain-glass windchimes which clink and muse while she pours me the bitterest cup of tea I’ve ever had in my life. I fill it with sugar and she chides me. I remind her of all the spicy dishes I make that she cannot eat, and she says, “Okay, I’ll let it go this one time.” She sips her tea black. The birds titter at her joke. We’ll have the same conversation tomorrow.

My host mother is Jira and I wonder how closely we might be related every time I catch that glimmer in her eyes like my mothers’. Jira is too tall to be my mother and her hair is not quite dark enough, but I like to believe I see it. I like to believe Jira’s country and mine are related, that maybe her great-great-grandparents and mine were friends before the records were scorched and the lines were redrawn. Or maybe our countries bore no relation to each other. Maybe they were friends anyway. Maybe they were enemies. I’ve heard every opinion.

Jira has a worry-face like my mother, but she uses it for different things, like plum prices at the market and rain clouds blundering through like clumsy creatures. It used to surprise me, since my mother reserved her worry-face for only the dourest things in her mind. I saw more and more of it from my mother before I left. “Baby maybe you should spend the summer home. Maybe you can get your money back.” She said she’d been reading things in the news. I told her not to worry. I would be safe in my travels. I feel stares pressing into my back while Jira leans over the plums. I notice Jira receives the stares too.

She hums a tune and busies herself in the kitchen in a dress I’ve never seen. She’s been in a great mood since her daughter came home this morning. I didn’t get a good look at her daughter at first because Jira swallowed her right up in her arms. But I got to see her better when I helped bring her bags in. Savine is lithe, baby-faced and a head shorter than Jira, and her eyes carry the same arch and slope as Jira’s. She has the same dimples and she moves in the same way, tilted forward, as if to let gravity do the work of carrying her momentum.

Savine is napping from her trip, and Jira seems to have forgotten all the slow and patient syllables she usually saves for me. She speaks in her rapid pace and I jog to keep up. Too many words slip through my grasp. One in particular I hear too many times. Savit-e.  

“Savit-e?” I ask.

Jira puckers her lips as if to think. Her eyes rove. Footsteps tap gently closer behind me, and Jira’s eyes light up as she looks past me.

“Savit-e!” she says, motioning forward as Savine rounds the counter and pulls her mom into another hug. Savine is only 10. She’s been away almost 6 months for school, according to Jira.

A nickname, I note. Savine wears earrings like windchimes as well.

…

Jira has offered to charge me no rent if I babysit Savine for the summer and cook dinner in the evenings. Savine’s summer classes are early and short, as are mine, so I pick Savine up every day at noon. “This is Reb. She’s my mom’s friend this summer,” Savine tells her school friends. I gather that Jira does something similar every year, taking in an au pair while she works the summer.

There is a park Savine likes in particular, with the tall slides and the cold water fountains and all her friends. It takes me a few days to realize her friends are new to even her. Any child at the park becomes her friend by nature of needing two to play the teeter-totter. I meet parents and I practice my clumsy language with them. They don’t stare strangely at me like the man in the plum aisle.

Three times over the summer, I hear a parent at the park ask me. “Who is Savit-e?” I point to Savine every time. I don’t think too much about it, because they always like the answer, nodding along. Savine’s friends do not use the nickname, but I experiment with it here and there. Savine lights up when I do. “Savit-e,” I call to her from the school lawn, and she squeals and bounds forward to wrap me in the kind of hug she gives her mother.

I pick up a copy of the newspaper from the corner store every day on my way to pick up Savine, and I read what I can of it at the park. The newspaper is not a person, and it does not stilt its vocabulary to be simple and clear the way people do when they notice me struggling with the tongue, so oftentimes I gather just the concepts from articles. It is my fourth week of doing this when one article stops me. I see the spelling of what Jira says out loud so often.

Savit-e.

The article is hard, but I recognize the word for murder, and the words for three men. Three men murdered, and Savit-e. I would ask Savine, but I’m afraid the article may be something upsetting.

I ask Jira that night, after Savine has gone to bed.

“A man killed three others,” Jira says, brow slightly scrunched as she skims the paper and distills its contents to simpler words I know. Her eye creases are deep by the evening lamplight. “He is not charged with a crime, because he was protecting his Savit-e.”

This sinks in slowly, and a red flush of embarrassment makes itself known on my cheeks.

“Savit-e… as in ‘daughter’?”

I use my own word for it, since I don’t know Jira’s word for daughter. Or at least, I did not know, until now.

Jira’s brow scrunch tightens, which she does whenever I’ve used one of my words she doesn’t know.

“Like Savine is to you. Savine is your daughter.”

At this, Jira nods slowly, then more quickly as she lets the meaning sink in. “Yes… Savine is my Savit-e… my daughter.”

I thank Jira for the explanation. I lie awake that night thinking too much about the parents at the park who think Savine is my Savit-e.

…

I start to dislike the newspaper. I’m not sure if it’s the summer heat sewing aggravation, or some deeper unrest, or maybe my own growing vocabulary, but more and more I notice articles that leave me unsettled. I read about the arrest of a man who looks like the man in the plum aisle. Maybe there’s no resemblance at all. Maybe any man with those piercing eyes in a mug shot feels like the man in the plum aisle. There are still many words I don’t know, but country and nation come up often. And Savit-e. More articles of someone acting in protection of their Savit-e.

My mother isn’t here to protect me. I walk more cautiously when I’m alone at night, as a woman, as a Savit-e with no parents here to protect me.

I’m in the kitchen with a knife shunking through the angled cuts of scallion. The pot for the noodles is boiling and I’ve halved the spices as I do every night for Jira and Savine. I don’t even hear the front door kick open.

I do hear Savine scream.

My heart is in my throat and my blood is cold, and I move, because in the moment I have forgotten I am a Savit-e far away from home. All that matters is Savine’s scream.

And my sockless feet are light as I snake through the dining room and round the corner to the living room, entering from the same door as the two men who now stand there, backs to me, both eagerly teasing the handles of a gun. One has Savine in a chokehold, and the men stare at Jira, pressed flat against the wall. I realize Jira does have a worry-face she reserves for the truly awful things.

And the men with their backs to me are plum-men, in ways I understand without knowing what fast and clipped words they’re shouting at Jira. The one holding Savine presses the barrel of his gun against her ear, and the windchime titter of her earrings is drowned under her scream of fear. The plum man barks a demand at Jira, and she watches with moon-plate eyes.

He barks it again.

Jira raises a trembling hand. And her digits curl, and her palm pulls inward, and her earrings clink with the slow stuttering shake of her head. She points her index finger firmly against her own heart, and she declares ‘Savit-e’.

Jira runs out through the second living room door.

“Mooooom! Savit-e!!” Savine screams, and her words choke, and she wriggles under the hold of the man. And suddenly sense returns to my body at the sound of Savine’s screams.

I am still holding the scallion knife.

I don’t remember what I do next, but the knife does.

…

There is a drawl of radio static that seems to dominate my ears. The sirens and flashing lights are background noise to me now. They’ve taken Savine away with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. They’ve assured me I’ll be able to see her, but later, once she’s been looked at, once she’s calmed down, once I’ve been spoken to.

“You are not in trouble,” the detective tells me in my own tongue with a slight accent rounding her words. She’s the only one who speaks my language. They called her in when it became clear I didn’t know enough of theirs to give a report. “You were protecting your Savit-e.”

I flinch, a little bit, somehow still capable of embarrassment with a mind that’s gone completely numb. “Savine isn’t my Savit-e.”

The woman detective frowns. I remember we’re in my own tongue.

“I mean, she’s not my daughter. She’s Jira’s daughter. She’s Jira’s Savit-e.”

The woman’s frown lessens some. “Your daughter, no. Your Savit-e, yes.”

I hold my hands near my face. They still smell of garlic and scallions. “The pot’s gonna boil over. I have to go turn off the stove,” I say, urgently, and unhelpfully, as the thought suddenly strikes and I push myself standing.

The woman’s hand is on my shoulder, and she presses me down. “The pot is not boil. The stove is off. It is okay. Who is Savit-e?”

And the question sits weird. I realize she asks it like those parents at the park.

I don’t answer. The detective chews her lip, and I see her eyes searching for a word she can’t find. “Who is your… The Most? Who is your The Above? Who is your The Most of All?”

“My most what?”

“Who is your Protect Over Everything?”

And from her face I can tell she is frustrated with her own words. There is more she is saying that I cannot know in my own language.

Protect Over Everything. I think about the scream that pulled me from the kitchen.

“I think… Savine… is my Protect Over Everything.”

And this satisfies the woman. And she nods the way the parents at the park do. “You are not in trouble. You always protect Savit-e. You must always. There is no trouble for what you did. Good job, that you protect your Savit-e. You will have her back soon.”

I go stiff.

“Jira needs her back, not me. I go home in a few weeks. I only started—” I falter. “Savine is Jira’s Savit-e.”

The detective shakes her head. “Jira is Jira’s Savit-e. Jira does not come back.”

…

I postpone my flight home. I tell my mother it’s because my studies are going long. I’ll tell her more, later, when I’m ready.

I pick up Savine every day from school as always. She doesn’t smile, and she pulls me into a hug that is too tight and lasts too long. She doesn’t want to go to the park. She comes grocery shopping with me, because it’s better than being left home alone. I look over my shoulder whenever I grab the plums.

I cook dinner and I eat with Savine, and we do this at the counter because when I sit us at the kitchen table, Savine looks too long at Jira’s empty place. I tried calling Jira once, after Savine went to bed. Her phone rang from the next room. I watched it ring until it cut to voicemail.

There’s an article about me in the paper. I can’t read most of it. Or maybe I just don’t try to. I see Jira’s name. I see the plum man words. I see Savit-e written 14 times.

I don’t know what happens to Savine if I leave. I’ve tried asking and I get too many words I do not know, and no one who can explain them better to me. But their expressions stay with me. Like the looks of plum-men and worry-faces and now this new look, which is rooted in something deeper about a country which I know too little about. It’s a sad look. It’s something I can maybe understand without the words attached. I tell my mom I might like to extend my study through the fall.

Savine has started calling me “Savit-e.”

#writing #original writing #i had a thought and it became a thing

[jgracie]

HEY BLONDIE — LEO + DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON

masterlist | rules

♡ dedicated to covey @hopelesslyromanticshark the blueprint for the poseidon girlie x leo trope 😇 lovey > caleo 4eva (even the ship name is cuter!)

❝ daughter of poseidon x leo valdez!!!!! ❞ — anon

in which leo dates a daughter of poseidon

pairing leo valdez x poseidon!reader

warnings percys a bit of an ass in this lowk sorry guys (he didn't mean it i promise!!!), they have tech, andddd i lowk hate this but i haven’t posted in three days so 🙁 maybe i’ll rewrite it someday!!

on the radio . . . hey blondie (dominic fike)

an i’ve been DYING for someone to request this combo i love it sm …. also OGs remember when my bio was hey blondie 🫡 reader isn’t blonde dw (i’m not even blonde myself) !! also reader is a year younger than percy (making her the same age as leo)

Leo didn’t know Percy had a sister. Maybe he was living under a rock (he was - Leo spent the majority of his days at Bunker 9), but he just hadn’t considered the possibility of it, with Percy being a child of the big three and all

If Leo had known of your existence sooner, he would’ve burnt down Bunker 9 himself and spent the rest of his days glued to your side. He had met many people, but none as perfect and charming as you

You see, the boy was simply going to pass by Cabin 3 to show Percy this new gadget he’d made for him and see if he wanted to hang out sometime, since Leo hadn’t seen Percy in a while, when he met you - Y/N, Percy’s younger half-sister

“Hello, may I help you?” You asked, opening the front door of your cabin and being met with a boy with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Immediately, you felt the heat radiating off of him increase and all of a sudden his brown curls were on fire

As a child of Poseidon, naturally, you’ve never been fond of fire, so this freaked you out. Knowing the water fountain was right behind you, you controlled the water with your hands and shot it at Leo, putting out the fire and drenching him in the process

Leo didn’t care, though. You could drown him for Hephaestus’ sake and he’d still come crawling back - okay, maybe that was a little much. He took in your worried expression and a wave of guilt washed over him as he realised how afraid you were

“I’m sorry, I have a hard time controlling my fire powers sometimes… Where’s Percy?” He asked, not even bothering to question your Godly heritage. You were very clearly a daughter of Poseidon

After that, things calmed down between you two. You let him in and although you were wary of Leo (and sat as far away from him as possible without being labelled as rude), patiently listened as he explained why he was looking for your brother

He then showed you the gadget he made and when Leo saw the way your eyes lit up at its mechanisms, he knew his life would no longer be complete if you weren’t in it

You gushed over the thing, pressing the buttons over and over again (which Leo didn’t have the heart to tell you would wear them down) and showering him in compliments - something that has never happened to Leo before

A grin made its way onto his lips. Sure, people have praised his creations before, but none of them did it the way you did, nearly bursting with excitement as you tried to handle it with utmost care

Part of Leo wished Percy would never come back to cabin 3 ever again, but speak (in this case, think) of the devil and he shall appear. That was his unfortunate cue to leave

He quickly showed Percy how to handle the device and was about to leave when you stopped him. Leo almost couldn’t believe his ears and almost leaped for joy when he heard you ask if you could pass by his cabin sometime, since you really wanted to see more of his stuff

That was the beginning of the most iconic friendship in Camp Half-Blood history

You quickly discovered you had a lot in common and so, you became attached at the hip. It was so bad that whenever someone was asked where one of you were, they’d give the location of the other since they knew there was an incredibly high possibility of you being together

Leo taught you how to use a screwdriver and weld and I can’t think of a third thing people who make machines do but you get the gist! And in return, you taught him how to swim

His ability to swim (or lack thereof) was something which was brought up your very first time hanging out together at bunker nine. After many attempts, you finally successfully hammered a nail into a piece of metal (fyi I’m a daughter of Demeter I know absolutely nothing about this subject) and in your enthusiastic state insisted you go to the beach together

At your suggestion, Leo got awfully quiet and began shyly playing with a stray piece of metal. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused for a second about the shift in his behaviour, when it finally clicked

“Oh my Gods, Leo, do you not know how to swim?” You asked, hesitant - you didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy. He looked up at you and nodded, pouting at the way your lips wobbled as you tried not to giggle. You weren’t laughing at him, of course, you just thought it was really cute

Grabbing him by the arm, you began to drag him to your cabin and said, “c’mon, I’ll teach you! It’ll be like me repaying you for teaching me how to do all the fancy things you do with metal!”

You guys started going to the beach more often after that. At first, you were just teaching Leo how to be in a body of water and not drown, but once he got the hang of it you started having swimming competitions and introducing him to all your fish friends!

They’re always telling you to hurry up and confess because it's so obvious that you like Leo and you keeping it to yourself isn’t doing you any favours but you can’t. Why? Because you don’t think Leo likes you back

Meanwhile Leo’s sitting on the sand next to you admiring the way you seem to gain life by being near a body of water, having to push his fire powers down whenever you’d pull him closer to you, the only thing filling the space between you being the water of the ocean

You are quite literally Mr and Mrs Oblivious. Everyone can tell you like each other but yourselves

It’s actually really funny because you run in the same circles so you tend to complain to the same people about how the other can’t tell you like them and they’re just sitting there trying SO hard not to facepalm

Most of the time you two go to Annabeth, simply because she’s the only one you believe can keep a secret as big as your crushes. Unfortunately for you she and Percy come as a packaged duo, which means Percy’s aware

She didn’t mean to tell him but one time after a heated discussion with you where you analysed Leo’s every move it was still fresh on her mind and she let it slip

Ever since then, Percy’s been eyeing Leo, who’s definitely noticed the behaviour switch. It’s not like Percy had anything against you dating - you were only a year younger than him, after all, and you never tried to stop him and Annabeth from dating - but he couldn’t help but feel a little protective

An extra year of life still made you his baby sister! He’d insist to Annabeth that it doesn’t bother him and Leo is a good guy and his friend so he’s happy that the two of you reciprocate each other’s feelings then turn and give the poor boy a glare so terrifying it’d make a hellhound cower in fear

While all of this is happening, Leo’s freaking out. He’s absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Percy no longer likes him which means he’s probably noticed he likes you and disapproves of your potential relationship

All these thoughts cause him to spiral and eventually distance himself from you. It was just occasionally rejecting plans but then it turned into him somehow always being busy, and it broke your heart

Percy, being the kind and loving brother he is, asked you what was wrong on one of those days and you had to fight the urge to burst into tears as you told him about how you thought you did something to hurt Leo

You see, Leo was your first real friend at camp. Sure, you had other friends, but they were all just casual acquaintances you’d talk to whenever you happened to see them. Leo was your first best friend, which meant a lot

In that moment, Percy knew what he had to do

“Hey, why’re you avoiding Y/N?” Percy asked, barging into bunker nine, his arms crossed as he stared down Leo, who was busy making something (as usual)

Leo, who hadn’t been fully listening, looked up to find none other than Percy Jackson standing in front of him, “what?” He asked, his eyes widening

“I said, why are you avoiding my sister?” He repeated, the scowl on his face deepening. Percy was usually a pretty nice guy, but that could change really quickly if anyone ever even thinks of hurting his loved ones (loyalty is his fatal flaw after all)

Putting his tools down, Leo stood up, suddenly defensive. Why was Percy putting the blame on him? He was the reason Leo decided to talk to you less in the first place. Doing that to you really hurt Leo, but he wasn’t going to let himself get close to you just to end up heartbroken and without two friends in the end

“Do you hate her all of a sudden, is that it? Because if that’s the case, you should at least be kind enough to voice those thoughts so she can find new friends–”

“Dude, I love Y/N. Who put that in your head?” Leo interrupted, “I’m avoiding Y/N because I’ve seen the way you look at me, Percy. I get it, you’re not happy that I like her, and I don’t want to bother you or put a strain in your relationship, so I’ve distanced myself.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He avoided you because he loved you, because he didn’t want there to be any trouble between you and your brother because of him, and yet somehow here he was being accused of hating you?

You’re the first person Leo truly felt love for ever since his own mother. How could he hate you

“Tell her,” Percy said. He felt immensely guilty as the realisation that he was the reason why you’d almost lost your crush and best friend hit him. He never meant for it to go this far, and honestly, the glances weren’t even purposeful - he just couldn’t help it

“She likes you too, literally everyone at camp knows it, you’ll be fine. And Leo, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean to, honestly, I just really care about Y/N and don’t want her to get hurt. But I know you won’t hurt her, so… I approve.”

When I say Leo ran so fast to your cabin that he left a whole trail of fire behind him, I’m not exaggerating. He passed by Flowers and Vines (Demeter + Dionysus kid flower shop/fruits market iykyk) and set their crops on fire, quickly making himself their mortal enemy

He couldn’t care less though. You liked him back! In a few moments, he’d confess and you’d agree to date him and you’d finally be his

And confess he did <3 you were a little mad at Percy at first for unintentionally separating the two of you but after three days’ worth of grovelling you were fine

You couldn’t be too mad, after all, since you now had your fireboy

(The crowd cheers!!!! After 5 pages of backstory you get actual dating hcs)

Okay so I just want to start by saying that Leo is literally like a raven or a cat or whatever animal it is. He’s constantly finding the randomest trinkets and just giving them you for no reason

He goes to the beach a lot on his own whenever he misses you because the salty air smells just like the crook of your neck and often comes back with a bunch of seashells, randomly shaped rocks and one time an actually alive sand dollar

You spent so long teaching him how to spot one that’s alive and one that’s dead so when he saw a sand dollar he got really excited at the idea of you being proud of him remembering the difference that he’d forgotten it

His favourite things are the seashells though. Why? Well, because he can turn them into cute jewellery for you, duh!

It started off as a silly little idea. He found a cute seashell and thought ‘what if I strung a piece of thread through this and made it a necklace for my beautiful hot gorgeous pretty siren mermaid cutie pie Y/N?’

He ended up doing it and you loved it so much he decided he’d make you a whole collection of seashell jewellery

The second time around, he made an actual chain for the necklace because you’re deserving of more than some lousy thread!!!

Then he began making bracelets and rings and earrings and all sorts of other things for you. Somehow, despite making so many of them, Leo managed to make them all unique in their own way. Your favourite, however, was the seashell locket he made you for one of your anniversaries

Inside of the locket is a picture you took together on the beach. It was from back when you were just friends, but you looked so gorgeous in it Leo couldn’t help but choose it for the necklace

Also, you guys are LITERALLY fireboy and watergirl

You’d had an epiphany one day whilst lying your head on his chest and the gasp you let out had Leo worried you were dying for a second

When you told him this, Leo was confused. Being in the foster care system at a young age then sent to wilderness school then doing demigod things left very little room for him to discover modern things other people his age liked

You immediately took him to the little computer you shared with Percy and opened up fireboy and watergirl (the OG game of course, not one of the newer editions) and taught him how to play

Honestly, Leo’s really bad at it. Like at first you thought he just needed to get the hang of it but then you reached the one year anniversary of when you first showed him FB & WG and he was STILL awful at it (also yes you know what day that is. You and Leo have anniversaries for everything)

“Leo!” You exclaimed, unable to watch as the try again prompt popped up on the screen. After about 50 times doing this level (which you had completed on your own before just fine), you’d finally gotten to the last hurdle when, of course, fireboy had to fall into the green slime

Leo pouted, once again prepared to fight his case, “Fireboy’s an idiot! It’s not my fault you get to control the smarter one out of the two!”

“Nuh, uh! Fireboy’s so much easier to control! He has the arrows, watergirl has WASD, which is way harder!”

“Fine, you control him, since he’s so easy to use!”

“But I’m Watergirl! I can’t have you killing me too!”

You’d have this conversation almost every single time you played the game. It got so bad one time Percy had to block the fireboy and watergirl website from the computer

Which was stupid because Leo’s literally a son of Hephaestus so all he had to do was touch the computer and it quickly became unbanned!

Also I think all children of Poseidon have an obscene amount of fish/sea animal merch. Specifically plushies

Leo stayed the night at your cabin once thinking ‘oh my Gods I’m gonna be sleeping with Y/N for the first time WTF WTF WTF!!!’ only to end up sleeping with Chelsea the starfish instead

He teased you a little at first but you’d refused to talk to him after that so he accepted them into the L/N-Valdez family (despite them hogging the bed 😒)

Now, he also defends the plushies like his life depends on it. If someone even DARES to utter a word against Haley the seahorse its ON SIGHT fr

He also keeps a mental note of all the names of your plushies to see if he can figure out a theme with the kinds of names you like for when you name your future baby but that’s a story for another day!

#leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez #leo valdez x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #leo valdez drabble #leo valdez x poseidon reader #daughter of poseidon #children of poseidon #poseidon pjo #cynwrites

[vanderlesbian]

rdr2 men as girl dads

arthur, charles, john, dutch, + hosea

technically gn reader, but some things may be interpreted as being more fem? you are the other parent of the child

arthur morgan

+ he would definitely go to the women in the gang (and you of course, but he'll be more shy about it) to ask them questions. "is this what you ladies like?" before he gives his daughter a gift.

+ he'll document basically her entire life in his journal; write entries about her biggest moments and their times together, and he'll draw her all the time. there will be pages that are just covered in drawings of you and your daughter.

+ the other gang members would tease arthur for being "so soft" around his daughter and he probably gets real flustered about it, but you think it's adorable how gentle he is with her.

+ she will make flower crowns or put flowers in arthur's hair and a lot of the time he'll forget about it, so he'll walk around camp or even go out riding with a braid and flowers in his hair.

+ of course, your daughter would have some kind of knowledge as to what the gang does, but arthur will still try to hide violence from her. he'll make up silly excuses as to how he gets cuts or bruises, and he tends to hide his guns when around her. hell, he won't even really smoke when in her presence.

+ arthur is very accepting, and that especially applies to your daughter. if she wants to travel the world, he'd support it. if she said she wanted to be a dinosaur, he'd try his best to help her achieve that. the only thing he would say no to is being a gunslinger.

+ arthur's daughter would be a girl constantly surrounded by love. i can imagine her being artistic and creative like her dad, with the ability to get along well with anyone she meets. she would also be very expressive and bold, feeling that she can be whatever she wants.

charles smith

+ crafts dolls and other toys for her!!

+ he'll take your daughter out on nature rides or walks and will teach her all about animals and their importance. especially when she's a baby; he just finds it comforting to have a little friend he can talk to, even if she doesn't respond.

+ charles would be SO protective of his daughter. he would definitely teach her important rules of survival and how to handle weapons because he believes she can take care of herself, but he also can't help but step in immediately when the smallest altercations happen.

+ he also knows how cruel the world can be, and he doesn't want his daughter experiencing any of that. he likes to keep everything pg around her; if micah or someone is being inappropriate around her, charles will get upset quickly.

+ you can learn a lot from children, and charles is well aware of that. he's such an attentive listener when your daughter speaks to him, and will act like everything she says is revolutionary. he'll bring up a fact you've never heard of in a conversation with you, and when you ask him where he learned that from, he'll nudge his head towards your daughter.

+ i think charles' daughter would be a mini version of him, minus his use of violence lol. she would be quiet and only open up to those shes comfortable with, and would be very passionate about those she loves and the things she cares about.

john marston

+ you will always be able to tell when john dressed her because what in the hell is she wearing?

+ the goofiest dad but he's trying his best he swears!!

+ he's not the most vocally affectionate dad out there, but he'll randomly show up with gifts because he'll remember his daughter mentioning that she liked a specific item.

+ he'll also show affection by teaching her things. he doesn't really know what young girls would find interesting, so he just kind of assumes she would enjoy horseback riding or something of the sort. will definitely feel awkward if she expresses that she's bored.

+ john is trying, but he doubts himself and will always come to you for reassurance. he feels a lot better after speaking with you about things. "i'm just...bad at this stuff. you think she even likes me?" "john, she loves you more than anything, and i do too."

+ he's so bad at playing pretend, but he tries his hardest and you think it's so funny. if arthur catches him playing dolls with your daughter, he'll definitely tease him about it later. "dad, use your girl voice!"

+ a daughter raised by john marston would probably be rather shy, but also very kind, patient, and understanding. she might also take on some of her dad's sarcasm.

dutch van der linde

+ he would spoil his baby girl ROTTEN. he just can't seem to ever say no to her and will end up going into town himself to get a new stuffed animal for the kid the moment she asks for one.

+ dutch would definitely boast about how smart his daughter is. he would teach her to read and write as soon as possible and would feel so proud when she tells him about the things she read or wrote about. "she gets it from me, of course."

+ he would quite literally kill for his daughter. he's definitely the scary dad, but like in a way that she will casually bring up "oh yeah my dad has killed people" on first dates.

+ dutch's daughter would definitely be one to have a rebellious phase. i think he would tend to insist that she stays at camp because it's safest, but he would raise a girl that's curious about what the country is like outside of her tent. there would be many instances where dutch will send someone out—or himself to go find her after she steals a horse and runs off somewhere.

+ i feel like he would want to name his daughter something like...antique, or based off of some character from literature. things like ophelia, elizabeth, athena, victoria...

+ i actually think that dutch would raise a rather fiesty daughter. educated and bold, i think a daughter raised by the leader of the van der linde gang would grow to be a leader herself.

hosea matthews

+ i think hosea was born to be a girl dad.

+ he would so have a nickname for her that would stick with her for the rest of her life. something cute like dew drop or honey bee; and sometimes even the other gang members would call her by that nickname.

+ with the way hosea sits and listens to the women in the camp, he would do the same with your daughter. although he can be a stern parent when needed, he'll always listen to her before doing anything else.

+ he'd love to teasingly embarrass her in front of the others. "remember when you were wearing diapers until you were four years old?" "dad!"

+ HE KNOWS HOW TO DRESS A BABY!! and he would be so proud of himself. he'd probably be more excited over baby clothes than you.

+ oh he would treat her like a princess. i imagine him reading her fairytales as a child and will play along with her when she pretends to be a princess. if he could, he would build her a castle.

+ i believe that hosea would raise a humorous, kind hearted girl, who can also be rather mischievous. i can imagine his daughter being very outgoing and friendly, but very serious when needed.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr2 #rdr1 #arthur morgan #charles smith #dutch van der linde #john marston #hosea matthews #x reader #headcanons #fluff #gn reader

[r0mantic-f00l]

DAD REGULUS I REPEAT DAD REGULUS ‼️ with any senecio you want just DAD regulus

I fear u have just inspired me to make a series of just dad regulus 😞😞

Meant to Be

Regulus Black is meant to be a father.

You believe that completely whenever you see him interact with your children, that adoring and loving look in his eyes whilst he smiles and laughs. Of course, he smiled and laughed before your children came along, but it became different. His smile turned wider and brighter, and his laugh is louder and more joyful.

He was terrified to become a father, afraid that he wouldn't feel like a parent and there would always be a distance between him and his child because of that.

However, as soon as you gave birth to your first daughter Adelia, he held her in his arms and she wrapped her tiny hand all around his index finger. That's when he knew he would do anything for his little girl, that's when he felt complete.

When you were pregnant with your second daughter Audrea, Regulus would talk to your stomach all the time, speaking about how much he loves her, how much her older sister cannot wait to see her, how much he loves you for not only being his soulmate, but also being the mother of his two children.

He never thought he could have a family, but when he met you, he felt an inkling, he saw a vision of a happy family in his future.

♡

You have just came back into your house after grocery shopping, carrying two bags all the way to your kitchen where you proceed to empty the bags and place all the food in the right places.

Regulus usually helps you, but you assume that he did not hear the front door open and shut, as he is most likely occupied playing with Adelia.

Chatter that contains a squeaky high-pitched voice and a deep cool voice flows into your ears from upstairs, Adelia's bedroom door being open. You smile and walk up the stairs after you finish putting all the groceries away.

Clinking of small tea cups is heard amongst Adelia talking excitedly as you approach her room, only looking in through the sliver of the cracked-open door as to not disturb this precious moment.

"Here's your tea, Daddy." Adelia places the empty tea pot down on the small table, her plastic tiara shifting down her head as she looks down.

Regulus has a pink cape that is way too small for him wrapped around his neck as he wears a matching tiara to his daughter's. He holds the baby Audrea in his lap, holding her up against his torso with one arm wrapped securely around her as he lifts up his empty small tea cup and pretends to sip whatever drink Adelia 'poured' into it.

"Mm, how lovely!" The man takes another sip as if he truly enjoys the 'drink' and places the delicate cup down on the table.

"Thank you, honey."

"You're welcome, Daddy."

"I thought my name was Prince Daddy?"

"Oh yeah! And-and I'm Princess Adelia."

"Of course, my princess." Regulus bows his head, Audrea grabbing onto a long curly strand of his black hair, cooing as she yanks it.

"Ow, okay, okay, sweetie, let go. Let go of Daddy's hair." He gently pulls his hair out of the baby's grasp.

Adelia is pouring tea into hers and Regulus' tea cup once again, taking a sip out of her small porcelain cup and rubbing her stomach as she hums happily.

"No tea for your sister?" Regulus asks.

"No, she doesn't want any."

"How do you know that?"

"She told me."

"Right, so a four month old baby can speak to you."

Adelia crawls to where Regulus is sat on the floor and puts a finger under the baby's mouth, moving it as she speaks.

"'I don't want any tea, Princess Adelia. I don't wike it.'"

The baby laughs as she stares at her older sister.

"Don't do that." Regulus says softly, with an amused smile on his face.

"Sorry Daddy." Adelia chirps happily before crawling back over to her side of the table.

You smile warmly, feeling such love for your wonderful family as you watch the scene in front of you, but you now have the strong urge to join in.

"I think you mean Prince Daddy?" You correct your daughter's little mistake as you step into the room with a grin on your face, Regulus immediately smiling at you as your daughter gasps and stands up to run to you, hugging your legs.

"Mummy, can you join my tea party?" Adelia asks with a hopeful look in her eyes.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, a finger tapping your chin as you glance up at the ceiling.

"Hm, okay then. But as long as I get to be Princess Mummy."

"No, you'll be... you'll be Queen Mummy."

You sit next to your husband on the carpeted floor and kiss Audrea's forehead as she coos.

"Wait, why am I Prince Daddy and she's Queen Mummy? Shouldn't I be a King?" Regulus protests with a frown on his face.

Adelia giggles at his pout and points at her father.

"No, no, you're just a Prince!"

You smirk as Regulus slumps over and shakes his head, yet he still smiles softly.

"Prince Daddy, can you give Queen Mummy your crown?"

"Sure, should I give her my tea cup too?" Regulus mumbles under his breath as he places the plastic tiara on your head instead, the crown wonky in its placement.

"Yes, please." Adelia nods her head, grinning with mischief as Regulus holds his mouth open in faux offense.

"Be nice to your Daddy, he just lost his crown!" You tickle Adelia's side, her laughter making you smile wider.

"Yeah, I think Uncle Sirius has been rubbing off on you too much." Regulus shakes his head as he grins.

The tea party continues until Regulus prepares dinner, the four of you sat around the dining table as you feed Audrea mushed carrots whilst Regulus bribes Adelia with chocolate to eat her broccoli and cauliflower.

The golden sun shines through the windows in the dining room, making your husband's hair glow and the fake ruby in your daughter's crown twinkle.

Regulus laughs as Adelia begins to eat her vegetables with such enthusiasm after he promised her that she can have chocolate cake after dinner, and you feel your heart swarm with love.

Regulus Black is meant to be a father.

#dad regulus #my heart 😫😫 #marauders #marauders era #regulus black #regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader

[xythlia]

↳ THE FEVER

› HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR SICKO HUSBAND ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER <3

› satoru x stepdaughter!reader [reader is like early twenties bc it was easier to write with my own age in mind idk]

› word count : 2k+

warnings : dark content stepcest, voyeurism, male masturbation, possessiveness, inherent power imbalance, peeping, showerhead masturbation, yandere ish, he's just a mega perv if I missed anything lmk!

Truth be told Satoru never thought he'd be the marrying type, if it were solely his decision he probably wouldn't have but with the external pressure to marry and produce a child he ultimately chose the path of least resistance.

A readymade family so to speak, a cheeky loophole to those unrelenting demands he'd heard since he was in his late teens. Not that he didn't care for his newfound family, he did of course. The solid golden band around his ring finger, tangible proof of his commitment. A smart, lovely, accomplished spouse with a daughter already on her way to becoming equally accomplished, if not more so.

He'd only been introduced to you a few months before the wedding date, he didn't push you for any earlier interaction because your mother had already warned him you were surly about the whole thing, distrustful of him as a would be father figure. And yes, it was a slow road to minimal acceptance but you'd made progress in the time after the wedding. For instance you no longer glare and pointedly ignore his presence in the house.

A win is a win, after all.

But as time has gone by Satoru found himself plagued by thoughts, not of his wife, but of his adorably aloof step daughter. He couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you were, strikingly similar to your mother but with the dewiness of youth making you all the more enticing.

Maybe getting married wasn't such a bad thing.

At the same time it's become tortuous living in the same home together. Its a test of resolve, the way he can't help but stare at the way your sleep shorts have ridden up your ass when you blearily pad around the kitchen in the morning, grumbling about coffee. The way you routinely wear no bra in the comfort of the home without a second thought, although his every thought focuses around how it would feel to palm at your breasts, squeeze them and hear you whine in his hold.

All this early morning rumination comes to halt when he hears the gentle splashing sound of the shower from across the hall, pausing his endless train of thought as his cock throbs.

You're in the shower.

He can picture it: the way the water beads on your skin like rhinestones, the smell of shampoo and conditioner filling the room with the distinct scent of you, and the way soap would foam almost obscenely against the planes of your body.

If someone had the ability to print perfect snapshots of his thoughts they'd rival even the raunchiest porn publications in existence and his hand flexes against the satin sheets, fisting them in an iron grip as his cock throbs. His imagination isn't enough, the train of thought is veering into insatiable territory but it makes his pulse pound through his entire body. Lust and adrenaline mingling into a dangerous shot that he's already swallowed whole.

He has to see you for himself.

As he flings back the sheets and pads towards the bedroom door the tiniest sliver of guilt pierces the haze of desire wrapped around his brain like saran wrap. Of course he shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't even be considering it. He's your stepfather and you're his stepdaughter, struggling to adjust to the upheaval of your life and finding your place in the brutal world you inhabit parallel to the normal one. Fuck, h should be helping, not daydreaming about-

His eyes catch you in the mirror first, back turned to him as you fiddle with a bottle of body wash. Satoru has to stop himself from gasping not just at the sight of you but at the flood of rapid fire thoughts that speed through his head.

Do you touch yourself? Surely you must, a woman in her early twenties is hardly unaware of self pleasure but do you finger yourself or are you partial to toys? Have you fucked someone? It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility, and he's seen you get dressed up for dates here and there before but it makes his blood rush thinking about some faceless nameless man getting to look at you naked, kiss that pretty pussy he's dreamt of, or god forbid be inside you.

The perfumed steam wafting from the cracked bathroom door makes his eyes flutter shut, hands flipping the waistband of his boxers down just enough to slip his aching cock out. He hisses as it springs free, lightly smacking against his abdomen. The pressure of his hand is only a bare, fleeting sense of relief considering he'd much rather see you soaking wet and on your knees in front of him, have your hands wrapped around him.

Spitting into the palm of his hand he wishes it was your mouth mapping the veins of his cock instead as he strokes himself, spreading saliva along the thick length of his shaft and his thumb swipes against his overly sensitive head feeling the warm precum leaking from his slit and it feels like he's made of hardened sugar that's now dissolving in the warm steam of the shower.

The pleasure is heightened both by the fact that this is beyond perverse and by the sick way his eyes can't move away from your reflection. The water rinsing down your body should be his fingers trailing burning paths over you, teasing adorable little noises from your lips and making you beg for him. The way your breasts look soaking wet is enough to make him nearly forget himself as his strokes become more frantic, panting in harsh, heaving breaths as his muscles scream to shove open the door and push you against the slick tile wall.

He can practically hear it, the yelp of surprise that he'd shush from you and the way you'd moan helplessly as his fingers swiped through your folds, tactile admiration of your pussy before stuffing you full of himself. It wouldn't be kind or romantic, not with the way you make him feel like a rotten dog, all starving neediness and if he sunk his teeth into you it's doubtful he'd ever be able to let go.

His breathing becomes so labored it's like a stone is pressing against his chest as he lets himself run wild, cerulean eyes blown wide but unseeing as the mental images over take him like a small vessel helpless against raging waves.

How would your hand look wrapped around his throbbing cock? Would you struggle at all, would it be new for you? Those impossibly wide, ravenous eyes are all devouring as he watches you run hands down your body. It's the sheer thrill of this entirely forbidden sight that has him nearly doubled over now, jaw clenched so hard surely his teeth would shatter if he were an ordinary man. His hand pumps his cock faster now, grip tightening as he swipes over his sensitive, weeping head and god would heaven be more than just a word if he could feel you around him. Would your eyes get that glassy, cockdrunk look and would drool slip shamelessly from the corners of your mouth as he fucks you senseless? What he wouldn't give to slap your cheek with his flushed cock, turn you into nothing but a taboo slut.

As you grab for the showerhead it nearly stops him dead.

As if you knew what kind of questions your unwelcome observer was asking.

So you do enjoy self pleasure. Seeing you adjust the jet of water and angle it just right makes his nerves feel like someone spiked fishhooks through them and yanked them impossibly taut. If only that jet of water was his tongue, lapping at your wetness and nudging your clit with his nose while your fingers tug on his alabaster hair. He'd have you on your back before you could blink, thighs squeezing his head and toes curling mid air from how thoroughly he'd work your pussy over. Fuck if only he could taste you-

The coil in his stomach snaps and he can't help the bone deep moans that escape his lips, thigh muscles trembling from the effort of keeping him upright as his balls throb and thick cum spurts in his hand. As he pants his ears ring, every sound as if it's coming through a cardboard tube pressed to his ears.

You'd look so beautiful with his cum splashed across your chest, your face.

Its not until Satoru feels goosebumps rise across the back of his neck that he remembers himself, remembers exactly what he's doing. Glancing up his eyes catch yours in the reflection.

Its damning, but he can't help being defiant against it. Grinning back at you, seeing your eyes wide with shock and your hand frozen poised above you as you were slotting the showerhead back in its holder. His heart hammers so hard against his ribcage it feels like surely it would break loose, splatter across the floor. Its a defining moment, will you scream threats at him or will you cower away?

You say nothing, do nothing but simply turn back around. Your slightly hunched shoulders glistening with moisture tell him enough, you feel exposed and vulnerable but lack the conviction to stand against the feeling. It shouldn't make him feel so elated but now he's got confirmation: you're weak in positions like this.

Would you be just as weak flat on your back?

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader smut

[intoanotherworld23]

Princes Choice

Pairing: Reader x Chris Evans

Warnings: None

Summary: Everyone knows about the royal family the Evanses, especially their promiscuous son, Chris. Then one night they invite all the women, and their parents to a ball to make a major announcement that will change your life forever

"Y/N dear are you almost ready?" Your mothers screeching voice called out to you.

"Yeah mom I'm ready." Responding to her as you took one last look in the mirror.

Tonight you and your family were invited to the royal family the Evans castle. Nobody knew exactly what it was for just that it was mandatory for every family that had a daughter over the age of eighteen to attend.

Some people had suspicions as to what this party was for, but of course nobody dared speak a word about it. Everyone in the town would be glamouring up their daughters, and hoping they would catch a certain man's eyes.

You've never met the Evans but you've heard many stories about them. There were rumors they were cruel and heartless, and then there was some that were sweet and down to earth. Nobody really knew what they were like expect for what people wanted to perceive them as.

Now their son Chris on the other hand everyone knew about him. He was notorious for being a womanizer and a drunk. Having a new woman warming his bed each month. Kicking them out whenever he was bored with them. He wasn't married, and never intended to marry.

Scaring any woman off that his family tried to arrange. He was the only heir to the throne, and they didn't know what else to do. His parents were at their wits end with him, and knew he needed to grow up sooner or later.

Thing is you've never seen the prince or what he even looked like. Not even in pictures. So for all you know you could meet him tonight and then have no idea. You knew what his parents looked like, but you were clueless to him.

Which is what made you even more nervous when you heard about the letter. The last thing you wanted was to secretly meet the pompous prince, and then he falls for you and wants you all to himself. Then demanding you leave your family behind to come live at the castle.

Of course when your mother received the letter from the castle she about passed out. Screaming through the house about how you were going to get married dancing around the rooms by herself. Your mother wanted you married off to a wealthy man as soon as possible.

You were the only child so of course she was extra pushy with you. No man had ever asked for you to marry them, and you certainly didn't expect that to happen any time soon. You were never lucky in the art of love. Disappointment after disappointment with each relationship you've had.

"Get your ass down here now we're going to be late." Rolling your eyes as you adjusted the straps of your dress.

Grabbing your phone and putting it in your purse you carefully walked down the stairs. Both of your parents standing there waiting for you. Turning up to look at you all dressed up your mother clasping her hands up to her mouth as she smiled widely.

"You just look so beautiful."

"Yes honey you look absolutely perfect."

Both your parents complimented you as you sheepishly looked down at your heeled feet. You've never been one for getting all dolled up like this, but of course this was something different and lord knows what was actually happening tonight.

"Do I really have to wear this dress?" Looking down at yourself in emphasis. "I mean don't you think it's a bit much?"

"Absolutely not you have to look your best when visiting the royal family." She nodded her head at you.

"I look ridiculous mom." Tossing your hands up just wanted to go back upstairs and change.

"You look just like a bride." Frowning at her words hating how she chose the lightest colored dress she could find. "Doesn't she look like a bride?"

"Yes dear she does." His tone unamused as he just gave you a sly wink making your smile.

"I'm changing." Turning to head back upstairs her voice stopping you.

"Oh shut up you're going and that's final." Waving her hands around as you father laughed to himself.

"Can't I just stay here and you guys act like I don't exist?" Suggesting keeping your fingers crossed.

"That's ridiculous they know we have a daughter." Your mother argued back. "They know all the families."

"Then it would be a shame if I were to run away." Teasing as you saw the look of panic strike across her face.

"You wouldn't dare." Pointing a finger at you a stern look on her face. "I will drag you to this party with a gun to your back if I have to."

She threatened as you tried not to burst into laughter at how serious he expression was. This was one opportunity you guys had to meet the Hansens, and your mother especially wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that.

"Okay honey we should probably get going." Your father looking at the time on his watch.

Your father grabbing your mothers hand leading her to the door just wanting to get this night over with. Starting up the car as he took off down the street. Sitting in the back looking out the window watching as everybody else was leaving as well with their daughters strutting to the car.

The goal being that you would stand in the back avoiding the Evans and their son Chris as much as possible. Since the party would only last so long, and maybe he'd find some girls to distract him and he wouldn't even take notice of you.

Maybe you'd see your best friend Natasha there, and the two of you could mingle together and make the most of things. She always had a way of cheering you up and making you feel better. She was always their for you every time you got your heart broken. The two of you were inseparable.

The castle wasn't far from the town as several minutes passed by, and you looked straight ahead to see it just over the hill. Sighing to yourself wishing you would have seen the letter before her, or simply just ran away.

"Oh look there it is." Your mother exclaimed she she clapped her hands together. "My god it looks so stunning."

"Wow." Was all your father said as he tried not to swerve.

Crossing your hands over your chest as you drove to a gate with armed guards everywhere. They asked for a name and checked off the list letting you guys through. Low key hoping they denied you access and you had to turn around and go back home.

Driving down the extremely long driveway you finally pulled up to the castle. Looking out the window and looking up in amazement with your mouth hanging wide open. You've never seen a house this big, and certainly not one like this in person.

Pulling up to where more guards were standing, and people were being directed inside. Taking a deep breath when you parked and someone was opening the door motioning for you to get out. A hand helping you out as you fixed the body of your dress.

"Smile." A voice sneered at you realizing it was your mother.

"I am." Keeping the same face not wanting to be here.

"Smile or I will do something that will even embarrass me." Hearing those words had you straightening up plastering a huge smile on your lips.

Your mother was willing to do or say anything to her what she wanted. She didn't care if it made her look ridiculous it took a lot to embarrass her, so when she made that threat you knew it was serious, and that you should probably listen to her at this point.

As you walked up the stairs to the castle your heart was beating faster. Your palms felt like they were slippery and wet. For some reason you were more nervous than you intended to be. All you needed was some fancy wine in your system and you'd feel a whole lot better.

Walking through the double doors your mouth almost dropped to the floor. This was just the main entrance and it was massively huge. Multiple chandeliers hung on the ceiling as well as many paintings no doubt that were drawn by famous artists.

It felt like you were walking into a museum rather than someone's house. Everything was shiny and clean, and you were afraid to even touch anything. No doubt the maids had their work cut out for them cleaning this place up. Surely this place got dusty so easily and was a pain in the ass.

Following the other guests as you were all being led into a huge ballroom. There was light music being played and the room was filled with laughter and chatter. The king and queen sat in the front of the room watching their guests mingling and talking. Waiters and waitresses walking around with drinks.

People were waiting in line to talk to them and presenting them with what you assumed was gifts. Shaking their hands and bowing to them which just made you roll your eyes. Sensing they were a snobby family, and expected everyone to approach them instead of walking out to them.

"Easy on the wine." She eyed you as soon as you snapped a drink from the tray.

"Bite me." Walking away before she could respond looking around for your friend Natasha.

She was nowhere to be seen which was a major disappointment, but maybe she just hasn't arrived yet. She was the only thing that would keep you sane here otherwise you'd be pounding back the wine until the room would begin spinning.

Finishing half the glass already as you slowly walked around the room hoping you could at least spot someone you liked. Surely there had to be a familiar and friendly face in this ginormous room. You certainly weren't going to stand by your parents the whole night.

Not really wanting to be here and looking at it as an excuse to get drunk. Watching the mingling guests as you already finishing your glass. The liquor already taking its affect on you, but that didn't stop you from grabbing another one. Sipping on that as you looked around wondering if any of these men that were walking around were the prince.

Maybe he was a good looking man with a heart of gold, and you were just too quick to judge. Or maybe he was like what everyone said he was and was the complete opposite of what you would hope for. Upon hearing those rumors he was probably with a woman right now taking her in an empty bathroom.

There had to be a legit reason as to why they sent letters to every family that had a daughter. Maybe it just went over your head, but you really had no idea. At first you thought it was cause they wanted everyone in the town to see what it was like to live in luxury, but that didn't make sense cause only the families with daughters were invited.

As more people filled the room you found yourself becoming overwhelmed. You needed fresh air fast otherwise you were afraid you'd get sick. Your chest was starting to hurt as your breathing became more scattered and shallow. You knew this feeling and you just needed to get out of this room fast.

Spotting a hallway you sneakily took off down there. Looking around to see no guards so far which was incredibly surprising. Assuming they would be posted on every corner of every room.

Not knowing exactly where you were going as you turned down random hallways. That's when you spotted what looked like a balcony. Making your way over carefully opening the door as the breeze brushed on your skin. The fresh air filling your nostrils calming down your nerves.

Leaning against the rails as you over looked your view that looked like their garden. From what you could see it looked spectacular and the kind of garden anyone would be envious of. There was lights shining down on the path with gazebos and benches along the way.

You really hated to admit it, but this place was breathtaking. It would be awesome if you could live here or simply visit here all the time. You weren't the type of woman to want fancy stuff like this, but now seeing it you were exactly complaining anymore.

"You lost?" Jumping hearing a deep voice intruding your daydreaming.

"Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me." Placing a hand over your chest feeling it beating rapidly beneath your hand.

"Sorry I just didn't think anyone would have been out here." The man stepped forward so you could get a better look at him. "Everyone else is inside."

"I'm sorry do you own these balcony's or something?" Arguing with the strange man suddenly becoming defensive.

"No I don't." He had a look of amusement on his face smiling showing off his white teeth.

This man looked like pure perfection to you. His hair was a dark brown that was wavy but slicked back. He had little scruffs of hair across his jaw, and some scars on his cheek. His suit was a dark navy blue suit with matching navy blue suede shoes. That color really suited him even more so when you took notice of how thick his arms were.

This man looked like he was sculpted by God himself. Trying not to drool over him as he now stood in front of you. Maybe coming to this party wasn't such a bad idea after all. If that means you got to chat with the most handsome man you've ever met.

"Why are you out here?" Throwing back in his face.

"I came to get some fresh air." He answered as he crossed his arms across his chest. "Why are you out here?"

"And don't use the I was looking for the bathroom excuse." Quirking an eyebrow at you with a smirk on his face.

"I had to get out of there." Motioned back inside as you sipped your wine. "It was becoming too much."

"Yeah it seems to already be getting pretty wild." He agreed leaning his right elbow against the railing.

"I'm not into these kinds of things anyway." Admitting to the man as he nodded.

"Yeah I'm not either I hate large crowds like this." Agreeing with you as he was leaning forward a bit.

"But of course my crazy erratic mother insisted more like decided for me that I should come." Joking as he chuckled at your choice of words for her. "She practically threatened me to come."

"Are you serious?" He asked through his laughter.

"Yeah I swear she did." Nodding as you took another drink.

"I kind of know the feeling." Looking down at his feet as you cocked your head.

"She thinks I'm going to marry the prince." Shaking your heard as you laughed at the thought.

"You don't think you will?" His question was one of genuine curiosity.

"Absolutely not." Scoffing again raising his eyebrows at you. "He seems like a pompous, rude and womanizing type of man."

"How do you know that?"

"I mean come on he's the prince for crying out loud he's bound to be what everyone thinks of him." Ranting to the man now.

"Maybe he's changed and is a new man now." His tone didn't change but he seemed a little offended.

"Please I've heard the rumors he'll never change." He nodded his head as he listened to you and thought about what you said. "Besides I heard his parents tried to force him to marry."

"I mean if I were him I'd certainly hate someone telling me who I can and cannot marry." That was true and you felt bad about ranting over someone whose life you knew nothing about.

"You said earlier you knew about knowing that feeling?" Softening your tone even more as he nodded his head.

"Your mother pushing you to marry as well." It came out more as a statement than a question.

"Oh yeah for several years now."

"Yeah my moms been planning my marriage since my birth."

"I doubt that sincerely darling." A skeptical look on his face.

Hearing the pet name that he gave you leaving his lips had your body feel warm. It's been so long since anyone that wasn't your parent call you something like that. Trying not to lean even closer, and possibly do something tonight that you would later regret. For crying out loud you just met this man, and you hadn't exchanged names.

"Yeah well you don't know my mom." Which hopefully he didn't have to otherwise he'd agree she was crazy.

"I'm sure she's a wonderful woman." This time you scoffed.

"You don't have to be nice you haven't met her yet." Shaking your head at him as you finished the rest of your wine.

"If she's anything like you I'm sure she's a lovely woman." He stepped even closer to you making your breath hitch at how close he was getting. "Beautiful, charming, funny, sweet and delectable."

His eyes lingering on your lips as they parted open as he spoke. Even with the warm air the goosebumps still appeared on your skin. This man was flirting with you and it took you this long to realize it. Judging by the way he was staring at you now it was becoming more obvious.

You could smell his intoxicating cologne as it filled your nostrils. It smelled so warm and inviting that you wanted to smell it all the time now. His forest green eyes were sinking in your face as neither of you spoke. His compliments left you speechless for some reason.

Who was this guy anyway? He didn't even tell you his name. There was a couple questions you had since mainly the people here were older people with their daughters, and he wasn't any of those. He had to be someone that worked here in the castle.

"Are you a servant or something?" Blurting out a question hoping it didn't sound rude.

Before he could respond what sounded like vibrations started to ring catching both your attention. Pulling out his phone as he sighed putting it back. Usually people would say saved by the bell but that wasn't the case for you.

He certainly knew what that signal was as he grabbed your hand and placed a soft and gentle kiss on top of it. This man certainly knew all the tricks and was pulling them all on you tonight. He already had you swooning and he was still a complete stranger.

"It was nice to meet you." He paused for a minute not having got your name.

"Y/F/N Y/L/N." Introducing as he smiled at you before letting go of your hand.

"Well it was a pleasure to meet you Y/N darling." Walking out of the balcony taking off down the hall.

Standing there frozen on the spot as you thought about what just happened. A complete stranger a handsome one at that was flirting with you at the Bradshaws castle. Even if he was just a servant he still worked with the royal family, and you had caught his attention.

He couldn't have been the Chris everyone talked about cause he was too sweet and well mannered. Chris would have probably had you bent over this railing before you could even get one word out.

This guy had you feeling like some young girl who got her first ever crush. Butterflies were floating around your stomach as you smiled to yourself wishing now you would have gotten his name at least or his number for that matter.

Surely you would see him again when you got back to the party. Now you had an excuse to actually be out there then you could have a reason to gaze at him. Knowing your luck the man was probably already seeing someone and was just being nice.

That's when you heard trumpets playing and thought it was time to get back to the party. Quickly walking down the same halls following the noise of the loud chatter. Standing in the door way hoping nobody noticed you. Taking another look around to see your friend Natasha was still nowhere to be found.

"Ladies and gentlemen." The king blared out as they both looked out to the crowd. "And beautiful daughters of our kingdom."

Scanning the room to see if you could find the same man, but he was also nowhere in sight either. Feeling disappointment hit your body as you saw a waiter walk by with a tray full of wine making sure to snag one. Looks like you were still going to have to get drunk.

"Thank you all for coming out this evening we greatly appreciate each and every one of you." He continued to speak as everyone was focused on them.

"Tonight we have brought you all here for a special reason." The queen spoke up this time a huge smile on her face. "Tonight our son will be choosing a wife."

Audible gasps and squeals rang across the room from the parents and daughters. Certainly your mother was dancing and bouncing up and down at the point. You on the other hand were frozen and your eyes went so wide. This was the worst scenario that could have happened for tonight, and now your fears were coming true.

"Now we'd like to introduce our son Chris to you all." She looked to the side as she invited her son to come out.

Moving your head from side to side to get a better look as some tall men were standing in front of you making it harder to see. Standing on your tippy toes as you saw what looked a navy blue suit walking towards them. Hearing the girls squealing like little seagulls the sound like nails on a chalkboard.

That's when you saw his face and you swear your heart dropped to your stomach. You didn't know whether you wanted to scream, throw up, pass out or run the hell out of that room. The room felt like it was getting smaller as he stood there looking out into the crowd.

That whole time you were out on the balcony talking to the strange men you were actually talking to the prince. You were in absolutely disbelief right now. Feeling like an absolutely idiot for not realizing who he was. He could have told you but he decided not to.

The thought angered you that he listened to you speak with such honesty, and he could even admit who he was. You even ranted to him about him, and he just laughed. Maybe he wouldn't see you again, and he's already forgotten about you.

"Hello everyone I thank you all for coming tonight." Speaking as he had his hands clasped in front of him.

"Our son has already made his choice for his future wife." The king walking over to him as he patted a hand on his back.

His eyes were scanning the crowd as he was looking for someone in particular. That's when they landed on your shocked ones a wide grin on his face as they remained on yours. Shaking your head as you realized what was about to happen. You knew whose name they were about to call out, and you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

"Yes I have mother and father." Nodding his head still keeping his eyes on you. "Her name is Y/F/N Y/L/N."

The only sound you could hear was the frantic screaming coming from your mothers mouth as you stood there like a deer caught in headlights. Holy fuck were you in trouble.

——————————————

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Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans imagines #Chris Evans series #chris evans fiction #chris evans fic

[pedropascalsx]

Restless Spirits. Joel Miller x F! Reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Word Count: 2.4k.

Summary: Joel finds respite in you after being visited by the ghosts of his past.

Warnings: P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Oral (F) Receiving, Creampie, Fingering, Squirting, Some Angst and Mentions of Child Loss. 

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut for Joel. I hope you like it.

Thank you to my loves @djarinispunkk @theewokingdead & @chaoticgeminate for reading this over and providing support. 

And a big hug to my beloved @foli-vora​ for providing feedback, support and encouraging me to continue with it!

The grip on your hips is bruising, you want to wince from the pain but you know that he needs this. He needs you to be pliant, he needs you to be still, he needs to mindlessly fuck you until the only thing his body feels is a wave a euphoria that’ll be quickly followed by exhaustion. He needs to wear out his already tired body until it can’t do anything except succumb to whatever amount of sleep his brain will give him.

This isn’t about your pleasure, he’ll give that to you tomorrow, or maybe when he wakes during the night. But right now this is almost for survival, a quick respite from the hell that’s currently ravishing his bones and tormenting his mind. 

“Take it,” he grunts as his hand fists your ponytail, his rhythm getting sloppy and sloppier as he nears high. “Good- good fucking girl.”

He pulls out and fists his cock furiously for a few moments before groaning in pleasure as thick’s ropes of his seed start to coat your thighs. 

*

You can’t help but think about that look in his eyes from earlier. Before the ghosts of his past unknowingly haunted whatever hope he held for the future.

It’s a look you think you’ve seen once before, but you can’t quite place it. His eyes had something that years ago someone would have described as a glimmer of hope and maybe that’s what it was, but it just seems easier to disregard it as desperation. But right now you can’t. 

She was giggling like a child, the shredded remains of a newspaper printed decades earlier crumbled up in her hands as she read an obscure comic strip of a large ginger lasagna loving cat. 

Youth coats every inch of her face, she’s still tiny in stature, puberty is still very much a work in progress but still it’s easy to forget that she’s a child.

The way she talks, the unexplainable bravery she exhibits… and then in these passing moments she’ll remind me that she is just a child. One who giggles uncontrollably at stupid comics. 

He studied her for a few moments, he watched the way her eyes lit up as she laughed, it was like for a second he truly believed she could be the way out of all of this. And then it fizzled out. The demons he’s created in his mind coming out of the woodwork to shame him for feeling anything but numbness or a crippling sadness that he attempts to disguise with anger and an unfriendliness. 

After a few seconds he simply got up and left without saying another word, possibly to down a shot of whiskey or to quietly think about the daughter that lives on through his unwavering pain. He doesn’t speak about her ever; you only found out she existed through Tess. And Tess made it abundantly clear that any conversation that involves his daughter is strictly off limits. 

Instead he wears the pain of losing her on his face, it lingers in his bones and bleeds out of him like a wound that’s begging to be

cauterized and causes him to seek solace in debauchery and drink. And you can’t blame him. You never would. 

You’ve never experienced that kind of loss, you didn’t know your parents, you were the product of two fools that didn’t think before they acted and left in the hospital you were born in. Raised by the church for a while, before the epidemic hit and then you were carted off to a school for orphans. They attempted to protect you from the hell that you were living in, but you’d seen things, heard things that made your skin crawl. And the day you turned 18, you were left to fend for yourself.

Ten years on you still go to bed resenting the way they didn’t prepare any of you. Instead they made you sit in classrooms and learn about a country that had since crumbled and rotted away as the dead took over the cities and started to line every crack in each pavement. 

You’re awakened from your thoughts by the sound of metal hitting the concrete. Her beloved knife slamming against the cold ground after a miscalculation of her party trick. “Be careful,” you tell her and she shoots you back a look that could kill you instantly. 

“I’m hungry,” she eventually says after getting bored of her knife and losing interest in the comic, “Where’s Joel?” 

“He’s in the other room,” you say as you silently order her to remain, “He’s tired. He needs a break and you have food in your backpack.” 

She scoffs loudly in response this time, her signature eye roll accompanies it and you can’t help but choke out a laugh. “Eat. And get some rest. Lord knows how long we will be staying here.” 

*

It’s cold. Colder than it has been in the past few weeks. A sign that winter is well under way and is likely about to get a whole lot worse. You’re holed up in an abandoned apartment. The building was surprisingly clear and secluded enough for him to deem fit to stay. 

Of course he insisted that the large bookcase from the hallway was to be pushed in front of the door but seemed to almost relax a little when he realized there was no balcony or other way of entering or leaving the apartment than the front door.

Ellie had perked up a little once she saw the amount of reading material in the place, old newspapers, magazines and books. Enough to keep her entertained for a little while and a mattress that didn’t look too dirty in a room that she could have to herself. You were assigned the living room couch and Joel took the other room. He gave you a silent nod that told you to join him once she was definitely asleep.

Creeping into his room, you're surprised to find him awake. Silently watching you as you tiptoe over to the bed he’s sprawled out on and carefully climbing into. 

“She asleep?” he asks as you tuck yourself in.

“Yeah. For at least an hour.” 

He hums and your stomach flutters at the way his southern drawl seems to drip into every sound he makes. 

“You tired, girl?” he asks as his eyes dart around the room seemingly looking at everything but you. 

“No.” You respond and he wastes no time, he pulls the blanket from you and starts gesturing for you to take off your panties.

“Good, ‘cause last time you didn’t cum,” are the last words you hear from him before he’s impatiently yanking your underwear down the rest of your legs and spreading them in front of him. 

Joel isn’t generally the most patient man but at this moment you’d never know. He’s got you exactly how he likes you, bare to him, pliant and ready to take whatever he’ll give you. And right now he’s savouring the view, slowly palming at the obvious bulge in his threadbare boxer shorts whilst bringing his tongue out to wet his lips.

“The prettiest goddamn pussy I ever saw,” he mumbles before running a finger through your slit and tutting at the obscene amount of arousal that coats it, “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper as his fingers work magic on your clit, “It’s all for you.”

“You gonna be a good girl and keep quiet for me?” he asks before ripping his fingers away.

“Yes,” you immediately moan out, the loss of his fingers making you groan beneath him.

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, Sir.”

His face immediately dives into your pussy, his tongue licks a wide stripe through your folds and you whimper his name as his groans vibrate against your core; as he laps up the arousal that had started to spread down your thighs. The taste of you is heaven. Tangy yet sweet and the noises that filter through your lips as his tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves makes his cock throb even harder with need. 

“Please,” you whisper as he teases a finger around your vagina, circling the entrance a few times before chuckling, “Please, Sir.” 

And without a beat he thrusts two of his thick digits into your heat, curling them up into that spot that only he is able to find before thrusting them in and out of you.

He groans in delight as your fingers entangle in his locks, pulling on his curls as he sucks on your clit. You quietly chant his name as his lips let go of your clit, and his tongue begins its glorious assault on your bundle of nerves again. A moan of his name falls from your mouth before your thighs are squeezing tighter around his head and your pussy is clamping down around his fingers. It’s glorious, white explodes behind your eyes as your body convulses from the pleasure he rips from you.

He doesn’t stop, his tongue continues to lap against your clit, his fingers continue to work their magic inside of you and it becomes clear that this isn’t coming to be the only one he’s pulling from you with his mouth. 

His fingers curl up against that spot inside of you one more time and you see stars, your body trembles and an intense pressure builds and immediately snaps as a trickle of liquid gushes from you and coats his face. 

“Oh, fuck,” you splutter as you realize what you did, “I’ve never done… I’m sorry.”

You fingers unclench in his hair as you gently move his face away, finally getting a glimpse at the way your arousal is glistening on his face and beard.

“You apologize again and I’ll give you something to apologize for, pretty girl,” he warns before bringing the fingers that were buried in your cunt to his mouth and sucking them clean, “You want to sleep? Or do you want me to fuck this pretty little pussy?”

“You already know,” you mumble as you writhe beneath him, studying his face as he licks his lips, his eyes still focusing on your glistening cunt.

“Yeah, but I ain’t doing shit until I hear you say it, pretty girl.” He says as his eyes slowly sweep up your body and burrow into yours.

“I want you to fuck me, sir,” you say as he pushes your t-shirt above your tits, and bends down to take a nipple in his mouth. His teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his lips envelope it and he sucks hard. You moan quietly as he snakes his hand between you both and starts rubbing your overstimulated clit. He chuckles as you hiss as he works your clit. “I need you to fuck me, Joel.” 

He lets go of your nipple with a loud pop before shaking his head. “Not good enough, girl,” he taunts before moving across to the other nipple. 

“Please, Joel,” you beg as his nimble fingers work your clit a little harder and faster, “Need you inside of me. Need you to take whatever you need from… Please, please, sir, -ooh- please fuck me.”

His tongue teases your nipple as he pulls a third orgasm from you, “Let’s make this pretty pussy come around my cock, pretty girl.”

He finally pushes his boxers down and lets his cock break free, it bobs up and down a few times before he takes it in hand and strokes himself roughly a few times. You wet your lips at the sight, the tip of him almost purple with a bead of pre-cum that’s begging to be licked clear. 

He reaches over and grabs his pillow with his free hand and you lift your hips for him ready to place it beneath you.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet for me now,” he orders as he lines himself up to your entrance and slowly pushes himself in. Your breath hitches at the stretch of him, and he takes it slow. No matter how many takes he fucks you, the way he fills your tight heat always takes a few moments for you to get used to.

“Like a fucking glove,” he murmurs as he waits for the okay to move, “Always feels so perfect around me.” 

“Fuck me,” you moan as clamp down around him, “I need you to move.” 

Without missing a beat, he pulls out and immediately pushes back in, his hips finding a steady rhythm as he fucks into you. His thrusts are perfectly precise; his cock dragging against that spot inside of you with every punch of his hips. “Good girl,” he grunts, “Always taking my cock so fucking good.” 

You keen at his praise, your walls fluttering around his cock as he builds you up and towards the edge of paradise once more and then you see it.

It’s fleeting, unbearably quick and almost undetectable but you catch it. That look in his eyes again. The one that almost resembles hope, this time aimed at you and this time replaced by a look of exhilaration instead of misery as you clamp down around him. He continues thrusting in and out as you deliriously chant his name. You feel the warmth of his pleasure begin to coat your walls as you rip free his pleasure. A groan of delight floods the air with every one of his thrusts until you’ve milked him dry. 

His mouth possessively envelopes yours and takes you by surprise as his tongue licks its way into your mouth. You keen at the feeling of his fingers gripping your jaw as he swallows the moans you breathe into his mouth. His teeth capture your bottom lip and he gently nibbles before letting it go and resting his forehead on yours. 

You see it one more time, just as briefly as before, his lips slightly curling upwards before the ghosts of his past chase it away. 

Hope? Excitement? Happiness?

He retrieves his pillow from your underneath your hips and snuggles down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“So, no one has ever made you squirt before, pretty girl?” He mumbles into your skin and you can feel the grin that’s clearly spreading across his face.

“Go to sleep, Miller,” you murmur back as you close your eyes. Enjoying the warmth of his skin settling onto yours. 

Maybe you won’t ever truly know what it is, but what you do know is that you’ll give him whatever he needs to see it pass through his eyes again.

#pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #hbo the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #my fanfic #my fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou

[hxzxrdous]

The School for Good and Evil

Lady Lesso x daughter!reader

TW: ANGST, SO MUCH ANGST, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK (happy ending though)

WE HAVE EACHOTHER AGAIN

You were one of the Nevers. A reader, so they said. You were took from your adoptive family by a huge creepy looking raven. At first you thought you were dreaming. Maybe the stove in the kitchen leaked and the gas messed with your brain? Nevertheless, you decided to live in the moment. There were two castles connected by a bridge. And the raven dropped you to the castle which you learned later was The School for Evil. In the following days, you tried to blend in the best you could.

You were intimidated and respected by your peers. You seemed to be cold and preserved. Just like Lady Lesso, the dean, you figured out. You were smart and cunning but humble at the same time.

You were in your dormitory when you heard commotion in the hall. Some group of older boys were bullying one of the younger Nevers. You stepped in between them, cold expression on your face and the boys immediately hurried away from the scene. "You okay, Lilith?" You asked your classmate.

Lilith stood silently, her face showing no reaction of what had just happened, her pale skin almost blending with the white walls. Her grey eyes were the only color on her whole face. "Yes, thank you," she spoke, her voice almost impossible to hear, her voice was soft like a whisper.

"Want to go to my dormitory and hang out?" You offered.

"Yes, that would be nice" Lilith said, following you silently, she did not seem to have much of a social life.

"You know if those boys ever bother you again come and tell me, I'll take care of them." You plopped yourself down on the bed.

Lilith's shoulders relaxed, she smiled slightly as if relieved to have someone stick up for her. She knew she couldn't take the boys on by herself, and no one else at school would stand up for the unpopular girl who is always by herself.

"Thank you, Y/N. Perhaps we can hang out tomorrow?" She asked, offering a brief smile as she spoke, her grey eyes staring into your eyes as a thanks, the faintest hint of pink rose on her pale cheeks.

"I would love to, Lilith." You replied, climbing under the covers of your bed as she left.

You couldn't sleep that night. You quietly tiptoed to the library... You walked around the apple that the Snow White took a bite off. There was Cinderella's glass slipper on display, and her famous pumpkin coach. You touched the glass slipper. Who would wear that kind of shoes? And then you glanced at the mirror on the wall. You looked at the mirror, reaching your hand to touch it.

A voice came from the mirror, as if there was an invisible presence speaking inside of it. "Who dares awaken the enchanted mirror?" The voice asked, it was deep, and yet, soothing. The mirror seemed to glow slightly, an eerie brightness to it that made the room a little brighter, it's voice echoed as if it was inside of your head. The dark eyes in the mirror looked at you with curiosity.

You shrugged your shoulders but decided to ask the mirror a question the same way The Evil Queen did from the fairytale you read as a child. Why not? Since you were already there... It wouldn't hurt, would it?

Magic mirror on the wall, who's my mother of them all?" You tilted your head, wondering if it will work, waiting for the answer. There was silence and you were about to turn away when it spoke.

"Dear child, your mother has hair of copper red, she carries a cane for her bad leg." the mirror answered.

Your eyes widened in surprise when the mirrior gave you an answer, you were stunned, your heart racing in your chest. You had not expected the mirror to even speak to you, let alone tell you the answer to your question. Though... the little poem was a bit too much.

In the reflection stood Lady Lesso in all her glory. You stayed silent for a few seconds, letting everything the mirror had told you sink in. Could it really be true? The mirror was never wrong after all. You stayed there for a few more seconds, your eyes locked on the mirror as if you expected the dean to suddenly appear from the reflection any minute. Finally, you looked away, realizing the room was actually empty.

You were overwhelmed with a ton of questions and emotions, your brain practically buzzing. You made your way back to your room and shut the door behind you as quietly as you could, laying on your bed as you tried to process everything. Your life made a lot more sense now, you should've realized sooner. You stared at the ceiling, your mind full of thoughts, a couple of tears came to your eyes as you thought of how much this may affect your life.

You wondered... Should you tell Lady Lesso? Should you keep it a secret? Would Lady Lesso get defensive and angry if you told her? Would she even believe you? There must have been a reason she left you. Perhaps she hated you?

You did not sleep at all that night, as it was filled with thoughts. You had always been an over thinker, the type of person who was constantly over analyzing every single thing to the point where all the thoughts in your mind turned to an endless spiral out on every aspect of the situation. Morning finally came and it was time to leave for class. Your head was filled with thoughts that would not leave you alone.

Lady Lesso knew her daughter should be a first year Never in the School for Evil. She glanced arround the classroom as she was giving a lecture to the new students. She noticed the two girls sitting together... when one of them caught her eye. Her hair was copper red, her eyes were grey, her frame tall. Had she finally found her baby?

You noticed Lady Lesso looking in Lilith's and your direction, and you immediately froze, you did not expect the Dean to even notice you. Your heart started to pound and her palms started to sweat, your face slightly flushed red as you felt embarrassed. You were in the middle of class, you should not be getting yourself caught up in a situation like this. You had a feeling that the dean would not like this, and the fact that it would make you uncomfortable did not help your state of mind at the moment.

Then you noticed the way Lady Lesso looked at Lilith and the way she looked at the rest of the students and you, your heart broke, you knew Lilith and Lesso were basicaly almost eerily looking like clones... you thought you would've been a huge disappointment if you revealed her the truth. You looked nothing like Lesso.

Your heart sank when you saw Lady Lesso's cold, uncaring expression. You did not understand how your mother could look at you like that, but you got the message loud and clear. You had to do something about this, you had to talk to the dean, but you had to do so on her terms. You felt betrayed, your whole life you had dreamt about what a wonderful life you would have once you finally met your mother, and what you got instead was a cold, uncaring expression that made you feel absolutely unloved.

You were back in your dormitory, studying with your new friend.

"So... Lilith... I really like your hair. Is this your natural color?" You asked, dropping your pen.

Lilith looked up from her book, her eyes looking at you with confusion. "Oh.. it's not actually. My real color is blonde." She answered, her accent sticking out a little. "Why?" She asked, she was a little curious as to why you would be asking her that question. Not many people cared about her hair color.

"I just don't see alot of redheads in this school." You tried your best to explain. "My, my, you're blonde?... Now that I imagine you blonde- Oh, you would look so pretty with your natural color, Lilith!" You added, giving her an exciting and polite smile.

Lilith's face turned pink as a she blushed, no one had complimented her before. She smiled nervously and shifted a little bit in her seat as she replied. "You really think so?" She asked, her eyes wide with surprise. She had never gotten compliments before, she had always been a bit of a loner, no one bothered to pay any attention to her, to Lilith, it felt so good to finally have someone care and compliment her.

"Mhm- boys love blondes." You nodded quickly.

Lilith's cheeks reddened even more as she tried to hide the smile on her face, her whole face pink. Her eyes were wide full of excitement, she was practically beaming. "I.. do?" She asked in surprise. She was still not all that confident, she had never been complimented and boys had never paid her much attention either, this was all so new for Lilith.

You smiled at Lilith, raising an eyebrow. You had a really clever idea. Or so you thought...

The next day in class all the boys looked at Lilith in awe. You lifted your eyebrow, nudging Lilith. "You have some new admirers," you whispered.

Lady Lesso entered the classroom, glancing over at Lilith with confusion, twirling around her cane.

"Good morning, ma'am, don't you think Lilith should embrace her natural hair colour that is blonde?" You looked up at the dean, emphasizing the last word.

Lady Lesso's cold face did not change, her grey eyes stared down at you as her jaw tightened. She was silent for a few moments, looking back at Lilith as she tried to decide what to do. After a few moments she finally spoke.

"Y/L/N, please stay after class, we need to have a word." She said, her voice strict and cold as ice. She looked back at Lilith, staring her down with her intense grey eyes, studying the blonde haired student.

After the class finally ended, you were left with Lady Lesso. Lady Lesso sat behind her desk and stared at you, she had not spoken yet as she waited for you to speak first. She wanted to know what you had to say for yourself.

"You wanted to talk to me, ma'am?" You asked the dean. You hated the way Lady Lesso was looking at you. She hated the way your own mother was looking at you.

The dean looked at you, her lips pulled into a tight line as she stared back, the cold look she once had was replaced with a furious one. "What do you think you were doing?" She spat, looking you up and down. She was not happy, and it was showing, as Lady Lesso was usually more calm and collected than this. Was she upset because of the question you asked earlier? Or was there something else going on that was affecting the dean's mood?

Lady Lesso stared at you, her gray eyes like two spears pointed directly at your face, if looks could kill you would have been on the floor. She spoke her next words in a cold and deadly whisper, her body language showing how furious she was. "You're here to be educated." She spat, her tone making the room feel colder and harsher. "We are here to become the greatest villains, not to have little tea parties." Lady Lesso said, her voice cutting through the room like a knife.

Lady Lesso was mad and she took it out on you. She hoped Lilith was her long lost daughter but all her hopes went down the drain once she found out Lilith in fact wasn't a redhead.

"I apologize, ma'am. I understand. No more tea parties and more focus on education." You nodded, returning the cold stare back.

Two can play that game. And whenever you played games you won them. You always won them.

Lady Lesso stayed silent for a few more moments, her grey eyes still staring at you as if she was trying to scare you, but it had no effect on you.

No matter how hard Lady Lesso tried, she couldn't intimidate you, instead she sighed, dismissing you with a wave of her cane.

Lady Lesso stayed in her room after you left, her face remaining cold and stone like as she stared blankly at a wall. No one would be able to tell what went through the dean's mind, she seemed completely unfazed after her encounter with you, but on the inside she was furious, she was going to have to keep a close eye on you from now on.

The next day in class, Lady Lesso stayed cold as ice, her face as uncaring and emotionless as before. She looked at the students, her eyes staring at them like she was studying them. Her demeanor would scare most students, she was cold and calculating, and the way she looked at them made it obvious that she did not care for them at all. She kept her eyes on the students for long enough before finally starting the lecture. She kept looking around, as if she was searching for something... or someone.

While the other students were too scared to look over at Lady Lesso, you could not help but glance over at the dean. She was cold and emotionless as always, it was obvious she was not thinking too highly of the students, they were all insignificant to her. When her eyes met with you, they seemed to stop and a cold and indifferent look appeared on her face. "Y/L/N" she called out in her usual cold tone.

"Ma'am?" You replied, confused.

"I wish to speak with you, now." Lady Lesso replied, her words coming out like an order rather than a request. She wanted you to know that she was not asking, she was demanding your attention and your obedience. She did not give you a chance to speak, she expected you to go to her office right now.

"Oh, you wish, ma'am? That's cute- And you expect me to make your wish come true? You think I'm a gold fish or a shooting star, a wishing well perhaps? A horse shoe? A four leaf clo-"

"Enough!" Lady Lesso shouted.

She was silent for a few seconds, her grey eyes still staring at you with cold fury. She was used to having people obey her immediately, this was the first time someone had spoken back to the dean in such a way, it was a slight to the dean's authority and she did not tolerate any type of bad behavior. She took a few more seconds to think as she tried to hold back her anger.

"Follow me." Lady Lesso stated again, her tone low.

"I don't think I will- this chair I'm sitting on is rather warm and comfortable." You crossed your arms, leaning back.

Lady Lesso stared at you, her expression becoming grimmer and grimmer as the seconds went by. She was growing angrier and angrier the longer you refused to obey her demands. "This is your last warning" Lady Lesso hissed through her teeth. "Follow me or be dealt with." She threatened, as she rose from her seat, the anger on her face was now visible, her eyebrows furrowed and her jaw clenched. She seemed like she was ready to explode at any minute now if you did not comply with her orders.

"No, I'm good." You streched yourself, putting your feet up in the air and on the desk.

Lady Lesso grew more furious now, she could not believe that you would still refuse to follow her orders, the Dean had never been talked back to before by any student. Lady Lesso's tone become even more threatening as she spoke. "This is your final warning." Lady Lesso spoke in a voice that could send a shiver up anyone's spine, her cold eyes stared at you.

"Follow. Now." She ordered one final time.

"Another final warning? How many more of them do I get them-Three? Four?" You tilted your head.

The whole classroom watched the argument between the two of you. You have never acted this way before, you were just so angry, so pissed, you were testing the woman's boundaries. She was stubborn. But so were you. You wanted revenge.

Lady Lesso was not amused, if looks could kill you would be dead in the spot, she grew more furious the longer you went on. She was ready to explode at the next word.

"Your last." Lady Lesso whispered, she was no longer warning you.

"Fine." You sighed, standing up, giving a slight smirk to the class. "Did I put on a good show for you people?"

"Let's go," she commanded in a cold voice, her face still unamused and angry.

Lady Lesso dismisses the class and dragged you to her office. You plumped down on a chair with a heavy sigh.

Lady Lesso slammed the door behind her as you entered her office, she then walked over to her desk and sat down behind it, staring at you silently for the next few minutes. After a few minutes of silence Lady Lesso finally opened her mouth and spoke, the anger in her voice was clear. "Why" She asked, her tone full of anger.

You ignored the question and spoke.

"I heard somewhere you had a daughter, ma'am. Did you hate her?"

Lady Lesso was quiet for a few seconds, her icy eyes growing even colder as they widened a bit at your question. "That is a bold question Y/N, who told you such a thing?" Lady Lesso asked, her tone remaining cold as her eyes narrowed.

"So you loved her? Would you still love her if she was here?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lady Lesso stayed quiet for a few more seconds, a look of anger and hatred on her face, she had never been asked a question so direct before, no one had ever dared to even speak to the dean in such a way. "She was and will always be my daughter." Lady Lesso barked, her tone full of cold fury as it came out. She was clearly infuriated that you would even dare to question her like that, her anger was obvious. "Why would she be here?" The Dean asked, her eyes narrowing even more as she continued to stare you down.

"That's not an answer. Please tell me, ma'am, would you love your daughter if she was here?" You asked again, clearly frustrated.

Lady Lesso was quiet for a few more seconds, her anger boiling away. "Of course I would." She finally replied, her tone showing a clear hint of anger. "She is my daughter after all, my blood and flesh, how could I ever hate my own daughter?"

"Well I think- I think she would hate you," you replied.

Lady Lesso's face went red and she stood up from her desk.

Slap

She was beyond furious, the thought of anyone saying anything bad about her daughter like that was not able to be tolerated. "What did you say?" Lady Lesso asked through gritted teeth, her tone cold and vicious. There was no way you were about to disrespect her daughter like that and go unpunished. She should have sent you to the doom room the first chance she got.

"I hate you, mother, alright? I hate you!" You stood up, holding your cheek and running out of the office, leaving Lady Lesso absolutely puzzled.

"That... little..." She whispered to herself, her tears spilling over as she realized what she had just heard. It was something she had not expected at all, her first reaction was to go after you and bring you back here and punish you for that insubordination, but she could not do that now.

Lady Lesso sat in silence as she thought, a tear running down her cheek, shocked at the words that you had just spoken as you ran out of the door. Were you her daughter?

Lady Lesso tapped her cane and went after you. She expected you to be in her dormitory but you weren't there. Lady Lesso sighed, her heels clicking as she walked around the whole school. Until she got to the library. The scene infront of her broke her heart. You were leaning onto the magic mirror, sobbing, the other Lady Lesso inside the mirror who was smiling down at you.

Lady Lesso stared in shock for a few moments, her heart broke, the thought of her own daughter hating her was more than she could take. She slowly approached her daughter from behind, she could not believe this was happening, she was so in shock that she was not able to say a thing.

"My... my..." She tried, she was choking up now, her tone was softer as she spoke.

You nodded.

"Did you finally figured it out?" You replied.

"Yes... yes I did," Lady Lesso kneeled down infront of you. It was clear her mind was running a million miles a minute, trying to process this new revelation.

"My daughter... my darling, Y/N..." Tears of joy started to run down Lady Lesso's face as she got closer to you and hugged you.

"Oh how I have missed you... oh my sweet child, I'm so sorry..." She whispered.

"I'm sorry too. I must admit I was a little over dramatic and stubborn and a tad bit impulsive." you hiccuped through your tears.

"A little over dramatic?" Lady Lesso laughed as her tears stopped flowing. It had seemed to run in the blood.

"Yes, just a bit..." She replied in a soft gentle tone, the dean's cold and serious exterior had melted away now. "You must have taken it after me, my darling, Y/N." The woman added.

"W- what happened? Why did you leave me?" You asked.

"I... I was afraid... for you..." Lady Lesso answered, her tone soft and gentle as she spoke.

Lady Lesso was quiet for a few seconds, her heart broke once more. She could not bear to talk about the topic of how she had lost her daughter, it was painful. In the end, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she opened her eyes and put on a strong face, she could not show any weakness to you, not at this moment. "It is a painful memory." Her voice cracked a bit when she spoke as she remembered Rafal.

"It doesn't matter, we have eachother again." Lesso hugged you even tighter, caressing your hair. You smiled to yourself. You won?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Hehe drama queens. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

#lady lesso #lady lesso x reader #leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #the school for good and evil #sge #sge netflix #sge fanfiction

[messy-gemini1]

Your ‘His No Life Queen’ story was so good!!! I love Alucard and he deserves so much love!!!

Would you write an oneshot where his little girl wants him to have a tea party please? Like a tea party with her stuffed plushies, Seras and him wearing a pink tutus, tiaras, even glitter, and sitting on a teeny tiny chair holding an tiny cup and his daughter telling him he needs to stretch his pinky while holding it. His love comes to see this and finds it adorable, yet amusing too and even takes a picture. I just want to read some domestic bliss with him too and maybe him telling that he’ll make sure his wife is pregnant with their second child by the end of the day.

omg! of course! I love this!

Tea party for a princess

The pitter patter of little feet can be heard down the halls as a child runs down them, pulling the hand of Seras who does her best to follow the young one as she pulled her from room to room.

"What are you looking for, Miss (D/n)" Seras asks, after finally slowing down to a walk next to the young girl. "papa" she said, looking up at the Vampirine. Seras tilts her head cartoonishly before she is once again tugged by the girl.

Alucard slumbers in his throne. Sleep going well for the no life King, his shades, sliding down to the tip of his nose. his sharp ears pinpoint the sound of his young child's footsteps as they carefully walk to him. A small grin forms on his lips, Ruby eyes opening just as his daughter peeks her head around the edge of his throne.

"pst papa. teatime" she speaks, attempting to tug him out of his chair. Alucard's watches with amusement as she huffs and pouts as she tries to pull his much larger form out of his throne. "Alright alright, little bat" He stands up, scooping (D/n) into his arms as she giggles.

Alucard carries his daughter down the halls of the estate as (D/n) excitedly shifts in his arms, jumping down when they reach her room. "c'mon c'mon" she says, dragging him in where he spots a nervous Seras sitting, covering in a tiara and a fluffy boa. Alucard now realized what situation he had put himself in.

"No papa! pinky out!" (D/n) huffed as she made her father hold his pinky out, his red coat swapped for his daughters much brighter and bright pink sheet she made into a cape.

Alucard watched as his daughter pretended to drink her fake tea with Seras. His mind wandered. how had he become do lucky to get a family? He was damned by God himself to walk forever alone for eternity yet here he was having a tea party with his daughter, wrapped in colorful pink and plushies littering the room.

"You will make a fine Princess, my little Draculina" Alucard speaks, (D/n) looking over at him and grinning wide, her small fang shining in the light. "I'm already a princess daddy! Cause you're the king and Mama's the queen" she said.

"Yes, you are, my little Prințesă" Your voice speaks from the doorway, a grin never leaving your lips as you survey the room, landing on your lover who looks so out of place amongst the girls and the toys. Alucard stand up, stepping closer to your form and pulling you to his chest.

"have you come to join our tea party mama?" your daughter smiles up at you. You glance from your husbands gaze to your daughter and give her a smile "not today my love, I came for your papa but he appears to be out of commission" you snickers, feeling his arm tighten around your waist until your flush against his form.

"do be careful, Regina mea" He speaks, leaning into your ear "or I fear i'll have to put another child inside of you tonight and put you out of commission" he growls lowly and licks the shell of your ear, causing your from to become flustered.

"M-master!" Seras squeaks covering (D/n) ears as he barks out a laugh and throws your form over his shoulder with ease. "Sorry to leave the party so early, but it appears your mother needs to be taught a lesson" he grins and walks out of the room all the while as you struggle to get out of his arms as your skin turns darker.

___________________________________

A/n: i hope you liked how this turned out! I'm a little sick but i wanted to make this since I loved the idea! Requests are always open so feel free to request stuff!!

#hellsing #seras victoria #hellsing ultimate #hellsing alucard #hellsing x reader #Hellsing Alucard x reader #Alucard x reader

[imgud]

GENSHIN MEN WITH ASSASSIN WIVES!

Characters!

Zhongli, diluc, kaeya, childe, albedo!

FEM!READER!

Reader and the characters have children!

Warnings: blood! Mentions of pregnancy! Albedo being horny!

Let’s say the ex geo archon was shocked to find out his shy lover was a assassin.

Ofc he was stay worried about your safety as a assassin, but you always told him to stop worrying about you

He stayed up to late hours to greet you at the door whenever you came home late form a assassination!

He loved the way you would kiss his cheek everytime!

Ofc everytime one of your children asked what your job was you just lied about being a doctor.

scenario!

You came home late very late. Stay covered in blood, then you heard a deep voice speak “welcome home my dearest.” Zhongli said your and his children asleep on his lap. “Ah my love hello sorry for coming home late tonight’s assassination was a bit hard-“ you said quietly, “my dearest I wonder what if one of our children take in your footsteps?” Zhongli said with a serious face. You froze was he gonna hit you? Or take your weapon away? OR MAYBE KILL YOU?! “I was joking you look so shocked it’s adorable.. I will go start the bath for you” he kisses your cheek and left the living room!

poor diluc letted out a small scream-

We’re you working for the fatui?! Or the knights? He was confused who did you work for.

When he asked you went silent, when you told him you work for nobody and just do assassinations for clans and the knights

He was mostly worried did you assassin people while pregnant?! Why did you tell him before?! He was so worried.

When you made sure that you didn’t assassin anyone while pregnant he got calm and smiled. At least his children had a strong mother.

Scenario!

You came home very early- you thought your kids were asleep. You entered the living room and dropped your knifes and everything. They were lily and crepus were playing with they’re toys- “MAMA YOUR HOMEW!” Lily hugged your bloody dress. And crepus who was already 15 was shocked his mother was a ASSASSIN?! Then you three heard a angry voice, “hello {name} ragnivndr.” Diluc spoke, ah then you remember he told you to enter the winery form the back door and not the front door- WELL YOU GOT A VERY GOOD YELLING FOR YOUR HUSBAND-

And yes you and diluc named your first son after his father<3

He was amazed. VERY AMAZED. That explains where you got this beauty form.

You didn’t even need to tell him because he already knew- he was looking for a shirt to wear after one of your devil tango nights and saw your knives-

He also loved to see with your and his daughter. You named her Marie because it was a beautiful name!

Scenario!

Your daughter also knew about your secret she didn’t mind having a boss girl mom! “IM HOME!” You yelled scaring the fuck out of kaeya. Poor boy was having a good dream of finding his dad- Marie spoke “welcome home miss girlboss” you gave your daughter a bloody hug! “I guess you gotta chose! Be a assassin or a useless knight” you smirked at kaeya! At least how dangerous your job was your life was happy with your small family!

Fell in love with you harder!

He wanted you to join the fatui! Then you two could assassin and be partners in crime right? RIGHT!

Ofc he never brought up who you worked for!

When you told him you were working for pantalone he had a BIG ASS MENTAL BREAK DOWN-

Scenario!

You didn’t even get the time to grab the mora form pantalone hands before he slammed the door open- “GET YOUR EMO HANDS OFF MY WIFE YOU FOUR EYES.” He yelled- and hugged you tightly and your poor son who was 13 had to watch him be a weirdo-

You kicked him in the balls dragged him by the ears out of pantalone office- pantalone spoke “everyday kid?” Your son Andrew spoke “yap now give me the mora four eyes.”

Ofc you apologized to pantalone so many times so so many times.

He was shocked but so HORNY. He was horny to see you in your assassin clothes- ofc you never did.

He also drawed you killing people for fun- your poor 3 year old saw the drawings and had nightmares for MONTHS-

Ofc you gave albedo a good hard kick in the balls for that-

Scenario

Albedo and your daughter Lina were watching a movie when you walked in covered in blood and much worse- she just hugged you “mama hi!” You picked her up. There is not much albedo does and your daughter got used to the smell of blood.

IM SORRY IF THIS TURNED OUT BAD! BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!

#zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x reader

[lala1267]

His girl (Part 1)

Summary: you were just a normal innocent girl that worked on a farm. You had a thing for older men.

Warnings: literally the biggest age gap possible (reader 15, Elvis,27:if your not comfortable with age gaps just scroll) cigarettes, hunting animals, shotgun to hunt?

My name was Mina Thompson. I was born into a small family of two. Me and my mother. My father was absent, I had never met the man. Me and my mother lived in the countryside and owned a farm. We had horses and cows. I was a free child. I rode my horses all day and every day as I let the wind rush through my long blonde wavy hair. I was a pretty girl, I had a petite slim figure, I had bright blue eyes and sun-kissed skin. Since I lived on a farm in the countryside I didn't have any freinds. It was just me and my mother, I loved her to death. She was gradually growing old so I had to look after her and the animals, it wasn't an easy job. I was 15 working my ass off on a barn. Mother's health was rapidly declining, she had cancer. I was only 13 when she had died. I was alone, I had lost my only freind to cancer. From then I had picked up a habit of smoking. I went through three packs of cigarettes a day.

I was feeding the horses and cows when I heard a car driving, the sound gradually grew closer. This was unusual since no one ever came here and there wasn't even a road, it was just a grassy path leading to my farm.

The car grew louder until it came in sight of my eyes. It was a pink Cadillac. I had never even seen any other car other than my run down tractor that I crashed not long ago. I watched in curiously. A tall handsome man had emerged from the vehicle, he had jet black hair and tan skin. He was wearing a blue t-shirt with black pants, along with golden belt dotted with diamonds. Meanwhile I was in a short white flowy dress, my ass basically hanging out everytime I lifted my arms. I was barefoot with a couple of wild flowers in my hair and a cigarette in between my red lips. I took a puff of my cigarette as I watched the man. He opened the back of his car, he pulled out a double barrel shotgun. My heart sank, I stood still, frozen in fear. Is he going to shoot me? Or even worse, was he going to shoot my animals?" He turned around, he made his way over to my direction. He looked up to lock eyes with me. He had a confused expression on his face.

"Wait, who are you?" He asked curiously.

"I'm the owner of this farm." I stated nervously.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was just com-"

" What are you planning to do with that gun sir?" I gulped.

"Oh I was just coming to hunt some rabbits." I let out a releaved sigh as I relaxed my tensed muscles. The man had noticed that I was a nervous wreck.

"You didn't think I was gonna hurt you, did ya?" He asked as he stepped towards me. I didn't reply. I stood there as he towered over me waiting for him to say something. He took the cigarette out of my small hands before speaking.

"What are you doing with this, how old are you?" He asked.

"I'm 15 sir." I said quietly. He giggled before speaking.

"Well I'm sure ya mother wouldn't be happy seeing her daughter smoking." He placed the cigarette back into my hands. I could feel my eyes tear up at his comment. I had to take a second before replying.

"My mother's dead sir." I said as I looked up to the man with watery eyes. His face dropped, he instantly hugged me and began to frantically apologise. I had never felt the touch of a man, it sure felt good.

"I'm sorry darlin, I didn't kno-"

"It's fine, I know ya didn't mean it" i said as I pulled away from him forcing a fake smile onto my face. There was a moment of awkward silence before I made conversation.

"Ya have a real nice car there sir, I ain't never seen nothing like it." I said as I inhaled my cigarette.

"Thankyou honey, you can call me Elvis, that's my name." I smiled and nodded.

"Well my name is Mina, nice to meet ya." I cheerfully said. I looked up into his eyes, they were so pretty and blue. He put his hand on my shoulder as he spoke.

"Well I need to get going now, see ya later." I smiled as I watched him walk away into the forest. Something about that man sparked a flame inside of me. His voice was deep and sexy.

"Imma follow him, he's interesting." I said to myself before mounting my horse. I had rode into the shady forest desperately looking for the handsome man. I heard a loud gunshot coming from one side of the greenery. I knew that was his gun, I followed the gunshot's echo until I saw him crouching down, aiming the large gun at a small brown bunny. The bunny quickly sprinted away and a few birds flew out of the trees. It must have been because of me and my horse, we weren't particularly quiet. Elvis turned around to see what had made him loose his bunny. He locked eyes with me who was mounted on a six foot horse, my hair flowing through the breeze. My blue eyes met his. A smile appeared onto his face.

"Ya following me now?" He asked as he laughed. I went bright red before replying.

"I just wanted to see what you were doing, I've never hunted bunnies before." I said as I dismounted the horse.

"Come sit next to me, I can teach ya how to use a man's gun." I smiled before skipping over to him. Before I sat I had whistled at my horse, signaling him to go back to the stables. He did just that.

"That's impressive." Elvis said as I sat down.

"What?"

"You've trained your horse, that's a hard task."

"Well I have lived on a farm all my life, I have my ways" I said with a giggle before locking eyes with Elvis.

"How old are ya?" I asked eagerly waiting for his answer.

"I'm 27 darlin" a smile flashed on my face as I realised that he was a grown man, I had a thing for older men.

I admired the handsome man before replying

"Age Is just a number." I said as I played with his black hair. I could've kissed the man right there, something about him was so comforting. Elvis giggled at my comment before handing me the gun. My hands dropped a few inches as it was so heavy. His deep voice carefully instructed me.

"Ya see that rabbit over there, I want ya to keep real quiet. Aim the gun at it and when you feel ready pull the trigger." His voice was music to my ears. He got up and crouched behind my petite figure. I was in between his legs. He reached the gun from behind me to steady my accuracy. It was like he was hugging me. I could smell his expensive cologne. I was stuck in my own fantasies before quickly snapping out as Elvis pulled the trigger for me. I jumped and let out a little yelp that made Elvis laugh. He took the gun from my hands as he stood up behind me. He placed the gun down next to me as he started to speak.

"If ya wanna get better at shooting you gotta keep focused my darlin'." I looked up at him. I smiled and nodded before pulling a cigarette out of my bra and lighting it in between my soft lips.

"Ya store your things in your bra?"

"Where else am I meant to put them, I don't have any pockets." I said giggling. Me and Elvis spent the rest of the day toughether, I was showing him around the whole area and showing him spots where all the bunny's go. When I was done giving him a tour, the sun was already setting. I looked him in the eyes before making a bold offer.

"You can stay at my house for the night so you can get you can start hunting when the bunny's wake up?" He smiled.

"I would love to." My face lit up. I grabbed his hand as I escorted him to my house. My house wasn't the best. It was a small cosy cottage. I opened the door to let Elvis in.

"You can show yourself around, I will go make you a coffee." I cheerfully said. Elvis nodded.

Me and Elvis were watching TV on the couch. The warm coffee that I had made for him was already drank. There was a little distance between us on the couch, Elvis had noticed this.

"Come closer honey, I don't bite." I did exactly that. Once I was touching shoulders with him I had leaned my head on his chest, he wrapped his big arm around me. Elvis was talking about how he was a singer, it was a very interesting story but I had a long day. I was tired and I couldn't keep myself awake anymore. I had drifted of into a deep sleep in Elvis's big arms. He stroked my hair and rubbed my back until he fell asleep aswell.

It was the next morning, It was 5am, this was the time that I usually woke up to feed my animals and clean them. I carefully snook out of Elvis's arms and walked outside, it was still dark but the sun was gradually rising. I walked over to the horse stables to clean and feed the horses them and I did the same with the cows. Once I had finished it was 7am. I was walking towards my house door to make breakfast when Elvis had opened it for me. He had just woken up, hair was messy, clothes were basically falling off. He smiled as he saw me standing infront of him.

"I was looking for ya" he said as he pulled me into a tight hug.

"I was out since five in the morning looking after the animals."

"Five in the morning! Surely that ain't healthy." We both giggled as I walked inside. I was about to go to the kitchen to make breakfast for us when Elvis's deep voice sounded behind me.

"Already done dear." I walked over to the dining table, it was nothing special, just cereal.

"Well it's something." I said sarcastically.

"Give me time to practice and I will be better at cooking than you."

"Yeah right" I said giggling. As we ate Elvis turned to look me in my eyes.

"I wanna take you to Memphis with me." My face dropped in shock.

"What...?"

"You heard me."

"B-but my animals, who is gonna look after them whilst I'm gone?!"

"We can take them with us, i can hire people to take them back to my house, I own a few horses of my own and they wouldn't mind sharing the stables."

"And with who's money Elvis."

"Mine, trust me I have the money, do you not watch the news on TV, I'm in the newspapers every day." I was shocked but also impressed that a man with this much money wanted me to stay with him.

"Well I guess we could make it work then."

Later that day Elvis helped me pack my bags, he took me to his car as another group of men took my animals. I was excited but I had only known this man for one day, he was also 12 years older than me, but I felt a connection with him and I'm no stranger to taking risks.

#elvis presley #elvis the pelvis #fanfic #farmland #farm girl #horse girl #fanfic writer #fan fic writing #70s vintage #70s elvis #60s elvis #young readers #older man younger woman #handsome older man #older daddy #older guys

[ibijau]

It's @veraverorum 's birthday, and like every year they get a custom fic to celebrate. This year, it's twisted fem!xisang and it comes with a bunch of warning, so I'd advise to check them on AO3 before reading (also it is somewhat long at 18K, so maybe AO3 might generally be comfier to read)

Nie Huaisang looks up from the corpse, her still innocent eyes reddened by the many tears she’s spilled over the night. She seems so small, so young, an impression made worse by those men’s robes she’s wearing that are, as always, too big for her.

“What if Jin-furen came to Qinghe?” she shyly whispers, flinching when everyone present turns to look at her. “It’s just… you’ve said she can’t stay in Lanling, and it might look bad if she goes home to Gusu, so I thought… well, and Da-ge and her used to be friends, right? And… and since Jin-furen had nothing to do with this…”

The attention becomes too much for that little mouse of a woman, and with an embarrassed squeak she hides behind a fan, half apologising for daring to speak at all.

“If the child is a boy, it’ll have a claim to Lanling Jin,” Lan Qiren muses. “The only direct claim left that sect recognises, in fact.”

Jiang Cheng nods, one arm protectively wrapped around his nephew’s shoulders. Jin Ling, all clad in bright purple, huddles closer to his uncle, his gaze fixed on the body on the floor. 

His other uncle, who had firmly usurped his birthright. 

His other uncle, who the boy had loved in spite of politics. 

His other uncle, who had threatened to kill him in a desperate bid to escape the consequences of his crime.

It would hardly have been Jin Guangyao’s first time killing a child.

“Nie-zongzhu, do you really understand what you’re offering?” Lan Qiren asks, in the gently condescending tone people can't help using when talking to Nie Huaisang. “My niece’s husband killed your brother.”

“I know, I know,” Nie Huaisang pitifully whispers. “But that was him, not her. And she killed him now, didn't she? And we’ve been friends for so long, and… I can’t just do nothing, can I?” she sobs. “I’m always useless, but at least this I can do. Lan-zonzghu, please let me protect my friend!”

A few tears spill on her pale cheeks, her expression a perfect mix of weakness and determination. Lan Qiren is fooled, which does not surprise his niece. Stern as he wants to appear, he’d always had a secret fondness for pitiful children. Besides, he arrived when everything was finished already. 

He doesn’t know.

It is more surprising when Jiang Cheng notes that it might not be a bad idea. He was there. He heard Wei Wuxian make his accusation. Perhaps he’s thinking ahead, wondering if he can seize Lanling Jin for his nephew, or at least some of its territories. Jin Ling has long been declared a bastard, barely allowed to keep the name Jin at all, but it’s no weaker a claim than Jin Guangyao himself had, especially if Wei Wuxian confirms the rumours were wrong. With the right support…

And Lan Xichen knows too well the importance of support in those things. Without her, Jin Guangyao would likely never have become sect leader. 

Lan Qiren, after some hesitation, takes his niece by the arm and leads her aside. He tried to take her hand first, until he noticed the blood. It stains her dress, too. Her round stomach caught so much of it. Lan Qiren, kindly, does not speak of it. They need to decide together what is to be done, he tells the others, but that is a lie, whether he knows it or not. 

Lan Xichen knows her uncle has already decided, if that can even be called a decision. There is no choice. Gusu Lan could already so easily be accused of covering up for Jin Guangyao’s crimes, after their long closeness with the Jin sect. So if they welcome his murdering widow, his son perhaps… and as for staying in Lanling, it can’t be considered, not unless Lan Xichen wants to be poisoned alongside her daughter and her unborn child before the week is over.

There is only one option.

If he were there, Lan Wangji might have objected to this plan. Wei Wuxian would have anyway, and Lan Wangji would have followed his lead. Wei Wuxian would have said something, although whether that would have swayed Lan Qiren or made him more determined to send his niece to Qinghe… but it’s pointless to wonder. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian disappeared long ago, to enjoy their hard-earned happiness. 

Lan Xichen is alone, and she can only blame herself for it.

Still she smiles at her uncle, trying to comfort him, trying to convince herself that he’s more worried about her safety than about politics.

“Shufu, I will go to Qinghe,” she says. "It's the best option."

Her voice hardly trembles, something she wonders at. 

She doesn’t want to go to Qinghe, and that too amazes her, when it was once one of her favourite places, where the two people dearest to her lived. 

Perhaps this is part of her punishment, for helping her husband, for killing him.

She can’t imagine anything worse than living in Qinghe, now that Nie Huaisang hates her.

-

Nie Huaisang’s skin tasted like the juice of the mangoes she’d been eating, sweeter than a sugary candy. Lan Xichen licked her friend’s chin, her cheek, and then into her mouth where the taste was sweetest.

Somewhere on the back of her mind, Lan Xichen knew this was not something she was quite allowed to do. She’d been sternly warned against kissing boys, against giving in to their desires. But Nie Huaisang wasn’t a boy, so it was fine, it did not break any instruction she’d been given. 

Besides, Nie Huaisang was the one who had started this. 

They'd been having a snack together, enjoying a warm afternoon of late spring in Lan Xichen's room. Nie Huaisang, who was a bit of a messy eater apparently, had licked her own fingers in a manner that made something boil in Lan Xichen’s stomach. She must have noticed Lan Xichen's expression and taken it for disapproval, because she had then grabbed Lan Xichen’s hand to clean her fingers in the same manner. 

It had just been a joke, a way to tease Lan Xichen.

The first time, it had been just that. Then Nie Huaisang had eaten a few more pieces of mango, sucking languorously on them while looking Lan Xichen in the eyes. Her hands had gotten messy again, worse than before, and…

Lan Xichen was more serious than most girls her age, but she’d wanted to prove she could be teasing too. She’d been the one to suck on Nie Huaisang’s fingers this time, eliciting the most amazing sounds from her friend. It had brought Lan Xichen’s attention to Nie Huaisang’s mouth, so pink and shiny from juice, messier than her hands, and…

It was just teasing, nothing more, Lan Xichen told herself as she straddled Nie Huaisang and kissed her deeper, chasing the flavour hidden under the mangoes’ juice, the taste of Nie Huaisang herself. Any moment Nie Huaisang would push her away with a laugh, and complain that Lan Xichen was messing up her pretty dress.

Any moment…

But instead Nie Huaisang’s arms wrapped around her neck to pull her closer. Lan Xichen felt her friend’s chest pressed against her, the soft warmth of her breasts, their movement every time Nie Huaisang gasped or whined into the kiss. They were so close, closer than Lan Xichen had ever been to anyone, and yet not close enough. Not until Nie Huaisang stretched her legs and rearranged them so one of her thighs was rubbing between Lan Xichen’s. 

It was Lan Xichen’s turn to whine into the kiss, the sensation so intense that it gave her pause. She pulled back as much as Nie Huaisang’s hands on her neck allowed, and watched the younger girl.

Nie Huaisang, her face red, her lips redder, looked back at her with a smile that made Lan Xichen’s blood boil no less than the leg between hers did. It was an innocent smile, without a trace of guilt. Surely if what they were doing were wrong, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have looked so happy? And no one had ever warned Lan Xichen against this, so it couldn’t be forbidden.

Lan Xichen kissed Nie Huaisang again, rubbing against her, chasing pleasure, letting Nie Huaisang chase her own when Lan Xichen pressed a knee between her thighs, certain that nothing which felt so good could be bad.

When it was all over, when Lan Xichen, breathless, lay draped over her friend on the floor of her room, trying to grasp what had happened, only knowing she’d soon want it again, Nie Huaisang laughed.

“Jiejie, we are in such a state!” she exclaimed. “My dress is all wrinkled, and yours is even worse!”

Lan Xichen nodded, floating too much for words. Blindly she reached for Nie Huaisang’s hand, and when she found it she held it tight, never wanting to let go. 

Her dress was a mess, stained with mango everywhere Nie Huaisang had groped her, damp from her pleasure, from Nie Huaisang’s. She’d have to try and wash it herself, or the servants might report to her uncle that she’d been up to mischief. He'd scold her, and maybe send Nie Huaisang back home. 

Her uncle could never know. 

Lan Xichen never wanted to be apart from Nie Huaisang again. 

“How did you know how to do that?” Lan Xichen asked when her voice returned.

In the midst of everything warm and pleasant, she couldn’t contain a spark of ice at the thought that someone might have shown Nie Huaisang how to play like that. But Nie Huaisang merely shrugged and laughed.

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be fun. It was, right?”

Lan Xichen hummed, and sat up to press a brief kiss to Nie Huaisang’s lips, squeezing her hand gently. 

“Do you want to play like that again someday, A-Sang?”

Nie Huaisang couldn’t nod fast enough.

“If I have to be stuck in the Cloud Recesses, we might as well have fun,” Nie Huaisang said. “Especially now that your uncle has recognised me and kicked me out of his lectures on the boys’ side.”

“He’d have tolerated it better if you hadn’t only gone there to joke around with the students,” Lan Xichen gently scolded while tucking a strand of hair behind Nie Huaisang’s ear.

Nie Huaisang shrugged, perhaps because she couldn’t see what the fuss was about. There were not many girls in the Nie sect, so she’d more often played with boys, though she wasn't boyish in the least. Now that her brother had sent her to Gusu to keep her safe in case the Wens tried something, Nie Huaisang struggled a bit to adapt to life among women, since she was used to running wild and doing as she liked. Lan Xichen was her only female friend. 

Before, Lan Xichen had felt sorry for her. Now, she was glad. 

She didn’t want Nie Huaisang to do what they'd just done with other girls.

“Anyway, this is way more fun than the lectures,” Nie Huaisang said with a grin. “I really want to do it again. But next time, let’s undress, so we don’t dirty our clothes.”

Lan Xichen fell breathless. Her eyes went to Nie Huaisang’s breasts, who had felt so soft before through the fabric of their dresses. She thought of touching them, of licking them maybe, the way she’d done with Nie Huaisang’s fingers and tongue. Just that idea made her stomach heat up with the same flames as before.

“Actually, we should already undress,” Lan Xichen said. “To… to put on something clean. I’ll lend you something.”

Nie Huaisang smiled, looking as pleased as she’d been when Lan Xichen had offered her some mangoes, an eternity before. Then, without waiting, Nie Huaisang started fiddling with the ties of her dress, as if she couldn’t wait to be nude. The ties were a little too tight though, Nie Huaisang a little tired from their game, so Lan Xichen had to help her.

When she touched them, Nie Huaisang’s breasts were even softer and warmer than she’d imagined.

And when Lan Xichen took one in her mouth, Nie Huaisang’s gasps were more beautiful than any piece of music she’d ever heard.

-

The small house that Lan Xichen is given in the Unclean Realm is simply decorated, little more than a peasant’s cottage really, hidden from the rest of the sect by some high bamboo. A few flowers and bushes constitute its garden. 

Perhaps Nie Huaisang means to punish her by refusing her the luxury to which she has become accustomed during her ten years in Carp Tower. Unless she remembers how Lan Xichen used to complain against that excessive luxury forced upon her, and how she longed for the simplicity of the Cloud Recesses.

Jin Yan finds the change harder to process than her mother does, but of course Jin Yan has never known anything except Carp Tower. She’s been crying a lot since Jiang Cheng gave her back to her mother, having rescued her from Lanling. She cries about her toys, about her dresses, about the pretty things she misses.

She cries about her father too. Every night on their way to Qinghe, she's asked when he will come home. She’s been told he’s dead, but she’s not quite six, death is hard to understand. Lan Xichen indulges her at first, until one night Nie Huaisang comes into their room at an inn just when Jin Yan is begging for her father.

That night, Lan Xichen scolds her daughter and forbids her from ever speaking about her father.

“He has done great evil,” she sternly explains to the sobbing little girl. “He has hurt many people, and he was punished for it. He was a very bad man, and you must not miss him, nor speak about him. Do you understand?”

Jin Yan nods, sweet and obedient even when she doesn’t understand things.

Jin Yan still cries. Sometimes she will say why, whining about dresses and trinkets. Others she won’t, and Lan Xichen knows her daughter misses her father, because all the evil he caused cannot matter to a child who adored him. If she could, Lan Xichen would explain a thousand times, comfort her daughter a thousand times, let the child babble about the man who always treated her well, no matter what he did to her siblings.

Lan Xichen can’t do that.

Not in their position. 

She has to protect her daughter, even if that means scolding her for something as natural as missing her father. 

Nie Huaisang warns her, when they reach Qinghe and she brings them to that cottage they must now live in.

“This is a prison, not a home,” she tells Lan Xichen. “If you don’t follow my rules, if you are not grateful enough, I will make you regret that the Jins didn't poison you.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Lan Xichen promises.

“Make sure of that. Or else your children…” Nie Huaisang pauses, and laughs. “Ah, but perhaps threatening them won’t do much? You’ve been so willing to let the others die, perhaps you care as little as he did?”

She laughs and laughs, as if Lan Xichen’s misery were the height of amusement to her.

Lan Xichen can’t even hate her for it.

She wishes she could hate her.

It would be easier to hate her, if she didn’t remember loving Nie Huaisang more than life itself.

Nie Huaisang was a different person then, a sweet and pretty girl who lived for pretty dresses and kisses. And yet when Lan Xichen watches that woman who hides behind fans as she sets the world on fire, she can almost glimpse again at the girl who owned her heart.

-

It broke Lan Xichen’s heart to return to the burned ruins of her home. Everything once familiar had become foreign, making her feel unwelcome in the place she’d been longing for during those harrowing weeks away.

She had missed her father’s funeral, which she minded less than she ought to, and her uncle’s coronation, which mattered more to her than it did to him.

She had nearly died, more than once, and although she was coming home, she knew she would soon risk her life again. Her uncle wanted her to help him in the Cloud Recesses, he’d said as much, because a girl’s place was at home. However Lan Xichen had already borrowed some male robes so she could disguise herself and join the Sunshot Campaign. She was as strong as any man in their sect, stronger than most, in fact. Why shouldn’t she fight for their freedom too?

She knew her uncle would forgive her, someday. 

She hoped she would survive to be forgiven.

But before she could throw herself into harm's way, Lan Xichen needed to sleep. All those weeks on the run, she'd barely slept. Luckily the women’s side of the Cloud Recesses had been less damaged, and her room was still there, nearly intact. The shadows of night helped her pretend she couldn’t see everything that had changed there too. Exhausted and hopeless, Lan Xichen dropped her ruined dress for the last time, knowing when morning came she would put on a disguise.

But as Lan Xichen stood in the cold air, nearly naked, she realised she was not alone. There was someone in her bed, curled under her blanket, with just one shapely leg sticking out. Had it been anyone else, that would not have been enough to recognise this person. But Lan Xichen had spent so much time between Nie Huaisang's legs, she would have known her by touch alone. 

Poor Nie Huaisang, sent there for her own protection once more, Lan Qiren has said, though he had not informed his niece that her friend had made herself at home in her room. Perhaps he didn't know. She must have been so bored. Nie Huaisang hated everything about the Cloud Recesses, except for the game Lan Xichen and her played behind locked doors. She must have come there to find some comfort, in this place where they had been so happy.

The night was not warm. Lan Xichen, staring at that exposed leg, was moved by pity and longing. She knelt down next to the bed and pulled gently on the blanket, trying to cover Nie Huaisang without waking her. In spite of her efforts the other girl quickly stirred awake, even sitting up and grumbling against waking so early.

Nie Huaisang’s grumbling ceased as soon as she recognised Lan Xichen.

“Jiejie, are you a ghost?” she whispered.

“I don’t think I am,” Lan Xichen replied, offering her hand for Nie Huaisang to touch so she could find out for herself.

Nie Huaisang ignored that hand and instead threw herself in Lan Xichen’s arms, pressing their lips together. She was still warm from sleep, and the heat of her skin almost burned Lan Xichen, making her realise how cold she’d been.

“I was so scared for you,” Nie Huaisang sobbed against Lan Xichen’s mouth. “I thought you were gone, I thought they’d killed you! Jiejie, I love you so much and I thought you were dead.”

Freezing at those words, Lan Xichen tried to pull away, but Nie Huaisang only clinged to her more tightly.

“No, I don’t care what you say!” Nie Huaisang insisted, glaring through heavy tears. “Other girls aren’t like that with their friends! You know it’s something else! You can’t keep saying I’m not really in love with you, not when… jiejie, if you’d died… I love you so much, if you’d died I would have died too!”

“Girls can’t love other girls,” Lan Xichen whispered, trying to convince herself more than Huaisang.

“Why not? You said one time that Wangji is in love with a boy! Isn’t it the same?”

“It’s not. Men are… boys are… they can…”

Men could be trusted to fight for their families when their home was attacked, instead of being sent running for fear they’d be captured and raped. Men could live their lives as they pleased, break any rules they wanted, as long as they were confident enough. Men could love whoever they wanted, and never be shamed for it.

Men could do everything.

Lan Xichen ached with envy.

“If you were a boy, would you love me?” Nie Huaisang asked, pressing a kiss to Lan Xichen’s jaw. “Would you take me as your cultivation companion?”

A shiver ran through Lan Xichen. Something like that… if things were that way… and yet even with all the pain it caused her to be dismissed, she did not wish to be other than she was. In the morning she would wear men’s clothes and borrow a man’s name to go to war, but only as a last resort.

“I wouldn’t want to be a man,” Lan Xichen said.

“What if I were one?” Nie Huaisang stubbornly suggested. “Would you love me then?”

That sounded wrong too, for some reason. Lan Xichen didn’t want Nie Huaisang to be anything but the sweet, plump girl she was. She wanted to love Nie Huaisang as they both were, even while being unsure it was possible at all.

“If you were a boy, we’d be married already,” Lan Xichen still retorted. “I could be yours, truly yours.”

Nie Huaisang kissed her again, gentle and devouring in turn, slowly but steadily dragging Lan Xichen in bed with her.

It was stupid, when Lan Xichen desperately needed sleep, but she needed this even more.

They stayed awake until dawn, sometimes exchanging caresses, other times trading tales of their time apart. Lan Xichen told Nie Huaisang things she’d kept hidden from her uncle, gave her a truer account of events, even when it would scare Nie Huaisang, simply because to lie would have been unbearable. She talked about Meng Yao, who had hidden her in a brothel, the safest she’d been that whole time. Nie Huaisang in turn confessed what she hadn’t told her brother about her time as a prisoner of the Wens with other juniors, boys from both sides trying to touch her just because she was an easy target, how Wei Wuxian had gotten in trouble sometimes to protect her and other girls.

Wei Wuxian was likely dead now, and Meng Yao had disappeared back to his ordinary life, but they agreed they both owed these men a debt, one they hope to repay someday.

As they watched the night sky colour with the first shades of sunrise, Nie Huaisang clung tighter to Lan Xichen, knowing light would bring new separation. Lan Xichen almost wanted to reconsider her plan and stay in the Cloud Recesses to steal what happiness was still to be found in the world.

She had to go, though.

To help her family, to uphold their ideals, certainly. But she now had more selfish motives as well.

If she could prove she was as good as any man, would she be allowed to keep Nie Huaisang at her side, the way men’s passions for other men were tolerated if their reputations were great enough?

“I’d be a good husband for you,” Nie Huaisang whispered against her neck. “I would let you do as you pleased. You’d still go on Night Hunts, and I wouldn’t force you to stop cultivating, like other husbands do sometimes. I wouldn’t care that you’re more powerful than me. You’re stronger than anyone, anyway. Well, except Da-ge, maybe.”

“I’d love to be your wife,” Lan Xichen replied, tracing patterns on Nie Huaisang’s back with one finger. “I don’t think anything could make me happier.”

She felt more than saw Nie Huaisang’s smile against her skin, and sighed.

To be married, to be together forever, with no one ever able to separate them…

She would cling to that dream, when she was fighting the Wens.

-

It takes Lan Xichen a few days to realise what has changed in Nie Huaisang since they’ve arrived in Qinghe. She thinks at first it is merely that the other woman no longer plays her pitiful comedy around her. Nie Huaisang still hides behind masks where others see her, but she lets herself be as vicious as she likes around her prisoner. She knows how worthless Lan Xichen’s word has become, so why bother hiding?

Why she still visits Lan Xichen at all is apparently the topic of much gossip among disciples of Qinghe Nie and servants. Some think it is pity, others suspect Nie Huaisang still desperately needs advice to rule her sect. The truth is more simple.

Nie Huaisang likes to see Lan Xichen suffer.

That is why she comes so often. It is why she will play with Jin Yan with sincere affection one moment, and the next subtly threaten to crush the girl’s eyes like ripe grapes.

Nie Huaisang has always been passionate. If she cannot love, she will hate, there is no middle ground.

Lan Xichen would sooner die than admit she’d rather cause hatred than indifference. That is her secret to bear, another one to add to the pile. This particular secret she hopes to take to the tomb. If Nie Huaisang knew, she would make herself indifferent, just out of spite.

So Lan Xichen bears with Nie Huaisang’s disdain as well as she can. She hears her daughter threatened, her choices mocked. Even her unborn child is used against her.

“If it’s a boy, I’ll drown him myself,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully remarks one morning, as they sit together in the garden around Lan Xichen’s cottage.

Jin Yan is playing far enough that she can’t hear them, or Nie Huaisang wouldn’t dare to be so openly cruel. She takes too much joy in making the little girl love her, perhaps so it will cause greater pain when she kills the child. Dozens of times, Lan Xichen has thought of warning her daughter against sect leader Nie. Dozens of times she’s decided Jin Yan is safer if she doesn’t know, if Nie Huaisang can be entertained by her innocent trust.

“I can let you have girls,” Nie Huaisang goes on, shuffling closer so she can nuzzle Lan Xichen’s neck as tenderly as she used to do. “They’ll be weak willed, like you. Easily sent to a man’s bed and bred for children like their mother, should they start to pose a problem. But a son you might raise to want revenge, and I can’t tolerate that.”

Lan Xichen’s hand goes to her stomach, already round enough that it makes everything difficult. She has a month more to go, give or take, and she does not know what sex her child will be. People always told her that mothers knew these things, but every child she’s given birth to has been a surprise.

“What a mother you are,” Nie Huaisang sneers, covering Lan Xichen’s hand with her own, the way she’d done when Lan Xichen was expecting Jin Rusong, trying to feel the movement of a son that wasn’t hers, a son she often said she wanted to claim. “You cry for them, but you’ve never protected a single one of them. If it were me…”

“But you always said you would never bear children,” Lan Xichen replies without thinking. “You used to say you didn’t have the temper for it.”

“I don’t,” Nie Huaisang agrees, pulling back and sitting a little more stiffly. “I’d argue that after letting four children of yours die with hardly a tear, you hardly have the temper for it either. But of course you’ve always been so desperate to lie to yourself, to think you could be normal. How has that worked out for you, jiejie? Is normality worth the price you paid for it?”

It isn't. 

It never was. 

Even when she agreed to marry Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen had known she was making a mistake.

She’s only now realising how great that mistake was, though. Because being here, as Nie Huaisang’s prisoner, exposed to Nie Huaisang’s hatred… living like this is still better than what her life with her husband had become.

Inside her cottage, within her garden, Lan Xichen is the only mistress of her life. She doesn’t need to worry about Carp Tower’s endless gossip. She doesn’t have to mind Jin Guangyao's reputation, the threats against his position. There are no parties to oversee, no sect leaders' tempers to mollify. She gets to play with her daughter, to teach her as she likes. Jin Yan is thriving, too, eager to learn, curious about everything now that she’s allowed to be.

For this, too, she paid a terrible price.

But Lan Xichen minds Jin Guangyao's blood on her hand less than she once minded the loss of everything dear to her.

“If you had any dignity, you’d find poison for yourself and your bastards,” Nie Huaisang says as she stands up. “Or you’d have used your sword to end it all. But if you had any dignity, you wouldn’t have ended up like this in the first place.”

Lan Xichen says nothing. 

She does not say that Nie Huaisang had every poisonous flower torn from her garden the day she arrived there, right in front of Lan Xichen, taunting her the whole time that she would not so easily escape. She does not say that Nie Huaisang has confiscated her sword and only allows her to train with it under supervision from her disciples, that there are no sharp objects in her cottage, nor even any pottery Lan Xichen might shatter to use their shards as a knife.

Lan Xichen doesn’t understand this new game they’re playing. 

She doesn’t think she’s meant to understand.

All she can think, as she watches Nie Huaisang leave the garden, is that she’s finally realised what felt so different about the other woman.

For years now, Nie Huaisang has taken to wearing men’s robes, as do the few other women in Qinghe Nie. Because she is small, because her body is plump, those robes never fit well, somehow too big and too tight at once, making little sect leader Nie a ridiculous sight for the decade she’s been ruling.

Today, though, the robes are perfectly tailored to fit her. 

-

Jin Guangyao's visit was unpleasant to begin with.

But no, Lan Xichen couldn't think that about the man who had saved her, the man who had saved Nie Mingjue too, and ended the war for everyone. His visits could never be unpleasant. 

A little ill-timed then, maybe. 

It had been a lovely morning up until then. Nie Huaisang had arrived at the Cloud Recesses just the day before, intending to stay there some weeks, as had become her habit since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. Lan Xichen and her had made love all night, and were now nestled together on a sofa while Nie Huaisang read aloud a book of poetry she'd brought. 

Life couldn't get better than that, Lan Xichen had thought several times that morning. They were so happy together, and lucky enough to be left to their happiness. 

Marriage, the one threat to their lives, was no threat at all these days. Not when Nie Mingjue had already proclaimed he would respect his sister's choice to remain an old maid. Not when nobody wanted to marry Lan Xichen, the reputation she'd earned as a hero of the Sunshot Campaign making every man fear they'd end up chained to a new Madam Yu. 

They were happy, and with this being their first chance to be together since the death of Wei Wuxian, they were determined to let no one come in the way of their joy. 

But Jin Guangyao was not just anyone. When Lan Xichen was informed she had a guest, she reluctantly made herself presentable and forced Nie Huaisang to do the same. 

Jin Guangyao looked to be in a pitiful state when he arrived. Makeup couldn't quite hide the black eye which  his cultivation wasn't good enough to heal. But he still smiled as he greeted his two friends, and after some polite small chat, explained the reason for his presence. It was an awkward request, one he looked truly sorry to be making, one he made with the certainty it would be denied, and yet his circumstances since the death of Jin Zixuan had become so dire that he had to try even this. 

When he was done explaining, Lan Xichen asked for some time to think about it. She sent him to the men's quarters, where her uncle would welcome him like a guest while she made up her mind. 

As soon as they were alone again, Nie Huaisang exploded. 

"I can't believe he dares to propose again! Does he have no self respect?" 

Lan Xichen, who until then had been too shocked to know how to feel, couldn't hide a small grimace. At least this time Jin Guangyao hadn't tried to first ask Nie Huaisang, perhaps because she'd turned him down so rudely when he'd done that after the Sunshot Campaign. His father would probably have preferred to see him married to Nie Huaisang though, because that would have given Jin Guangshan something to use against Nie Mingjue. 

If he had asked Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen might have suspected Jin Guangyao of trying to please his father. But he had asked her instead, and that meant Jin Guangyao was just desperate for help and protection, now that his half-brother's death was somewhat blamed on him. 

"His position is a difficult one," Lan Xichen remarked. "He's the heir but only barely. He's Jin Guangshan's best option, but that man is so set in his ways he'd rather let his sect collapse after his death than allow A-Yao to rule. But like A-Yao said, if he had support…" 

"You're not thinking of accepting, are you?" 

Lan Xichen guiltily looked away, fearing the anger that was sure to show on Nie Huaisang’s face. She didn't want to accept, but she owed Jin Guangyao so much, she had the power to help, and he'd looked so desperate… 

"You already have a husband," Nie Huaisang hissed. "You can't marry him, you're married to me!" 

"You know it's not the same," Lan Xichen sighed. "Our marriage isn't… Even your brother wouldn't count it as binding."

Nie Mingjue had watched them take their bows, certainly, and he was supportive, allowing his sister to run to her wife as often as she pleased. But at the end of the day, Nie Mingjue was a practical man. He knew their marriage was a game of play pretend, just as Lan Xichen knew it.

The only one who refused to see things that way was Nie Huaisang. 

"I married you!" She cried out, breaking into tears. "I'm your husband and you're my wife! How could I let you go to some man, let you bear his children…" 

"I won't!" Lan Xichen protested, taking her hands. "You heard A-Yao, he said he wouldn't ask anything of me in private. I would stay faithful to you!" 

"But having children isn't a private thing," Nie Huaisang sobbed. "If this marriage is all about saving his image, he'll need at least one son!"

"He promised," Lan Xichen insisted, though she was less sure now. 

But they were friends, Jin Guangyao and her, and aside from a proposal at the end of the year and this new one right then, he'd always treated her the way he'd have treated a man. He didn't want to marry her out of love or lust, so surely he wouldn't want to sleep with her. She couldn't conceive of taking to bed someone she didn't adore (she couldn't conceive of taking anyone who wasn't Nie Huaisang) and surely a man as gentle and respectable as Jin Guangyao had to be the same. 

Nie Huaisang and her argued a while longer, until Lan Xichen had to leave for a lesson to some of the younger girls. Nie Huaisang refused to kiss her before she left. She was too busy crying her heart out, her pretty round face made blotchy by the strength of her tears.

Those tears had dried by the time Lan Xichen returned, but Nie Huaisang still didn’t come to meet her wife at the door. She remained sprawled on the sofa, her face hidden in the book of poetry from which she had been so lovingly reading that morning.

There was no point in talking to Nie Huaisang when she was that angry. All Lan Xichen could do was weather the storm, and show how sorry she was.

Without a word, Lan Xichen went to fetch her guqin and set it up. That alone was already a plea for forgiveness; when she played for herself she favoured the xiao, but her husband preferred the sound of the guqin. In case the message wasn’t clear enough, Lan Xichen also picked a melody Nie Huaisang particularly loved.

That song finished without so much as a glance from Nie Huaisang, as did the next one. By the third piece, though, the poetry book finally lowered and Nie Huaisang stared at her wife with a pensive expression.

"Do you think his father would really kick him out?" Nie Huaisang asked during the moment of silence that followed the third song.

"I think that's the least cruel thing Jin zongzhu might do," Lan Xichen honestly replied, stretching her fingers before starting another melody. A simpler one this time, so she didn’t have to think about it too much as they spoke. "You know how he is. You've seen how he treats A-Yao. If he really wants to blame him for Jin Zixun and Jin Zixuan going to confront Wei Wuxian alone that day… A-Yao will probably be killed, and no one inside the Jin sect will dare to protest, not even the allies he's made."

Nie Huaisang waited for the end of that song to speak again.

"He saved Da-ge," she mumbled hesitantly. "I probably owe him too for that, don't I?" 

That particular debt was less clear than Lan Xichen's own. Nie Mingjue resented having been saved by a man he'd grown to despise, and seemed to consider that merely allowing Jin Guangyao to live in spite of certain things he'd done during the war had erased his debt.

"I don't want you to marry him," Nie Huaisang went on, while motioning that Lan Xichen should continue playing. "You're my wife. But… I don't want him to die either. He's so nice, when he's not trying to propose. And you'd be dead without him. Just for that, I have to like him. And if I like him… I should want to help, right?"

Lan Xichen frowned, and stared at her own fingers to avoid seeing her husband’s expression.

"Choose whatever you want," Nie Huaisang said at last. "As long as you don’t break up with me, I’ll accept anything.”

Lan Xinchen’s fingers struck the strings too roughly, producing a dissonant note that hurt her ears.

Why did Nie Huaisang have to choose that moment to be selfless? She never cared about the lives of others, never paid politics any attention, why change now, when Lan Xichen had been counting on her lover’s selfishness to give her an excuse to turn down Jin Guangyao? If Nie Huaisang had gone on crying, if she’d begged Lan Xichen to refuse, of course Lan Xichen would have done anything to please her. Jin Guangyao’s friendship wasn’t worth risking her cultivation companion.

But if Nie Huaisang gave in to reason, Lan Xichen’s only chance at selfishness vanished.

If Lan Xichen had to choose alone, of course she had to be kind, of course she had to help her friend the only way she could.

She did not want to be kind.

She wanted to stay like this forever. She wanted to help her uncle by being his voice and ears in the female half of the sect, comfortable in the home she had known all her life, the home she had fought so hard to defend. She wanted to teach juniors of her own sect during the day, and spend her night with her true husband, the woman she loved. 

Lan Xichen wanted and wanted and wanted.

But she was lucky to have had that much already. Compared to her father, to her brother, she’d been happy for so long. And Jin Guangyao had been so desperate earlier, he’d only bothered her because he had no choice, because he feared for his life, because he was scared of what would happen if he was no longer around to desperately push the Jin sect toward more righteousness with what little power he had.

She owed him that.

Do not be selfish, the rules said, and she owed Jin Guangyao so much.

That night, she told him he could talk to her uncle about marrying her. Jin Guangyao looked both relieved and sincerely sorry when she gave her answer. It comforted Lan Xichen a little, she took it as proof that it would really be a marriage of convenience and nothing else, that they would live together as good friends rather than spouses.

And yet, just as Nie Huaisang had predicted, on their wedding night Jin Guangyao started arguing for at least one child. Lan Xichen gave in, feeling shamefully naive for having believed she could stay faithful to her true husband. Just one child, she made him promise, and he assured her he’d never dare to ask for more.

She almost cried when she felt Jin Guangyao inside her, though he tried to be gentle. Her reaction, combined with the fact she was no longer a virgin, caused Jin Guangyao to try to comfort her after. Things happened during a war, he said, and he promised he wouldn't pry into what happened to her.

Lan Xichen tried to feel grateful for his kindness. 

She only was truly grateful when he finally left her bed.

-

Rainy days are the worst in the little cottage. The rest of the time, it doesn’t matter that this place is small. If Lan Xichen wants some quiet, she can go in the garden with Jin Yan and let the little girl run among the bamboo. But when the weather turns bad, and it often does in the Unclean Realm, the little house really feels like the prison it is.

It doesn’t help that Lan Xichen has been feeling unwell since yesterday. It started lightly, some vague aches in her limbs last night, and something like the threat of a headache in the back of her skull. Since this morning her entire body has been feeling heavy, enough so that she can barely move. She’s managed to do her normal chores until lunch, taught since childhood to push past any temporary weakness, but once she sat down to eat, she found she simply couldn’t get up anymore.

Jin Yan still has plenty of energy, though, and keeps asking her mother to play with her, to tell her a story, to sing her a song. Instead, Lan Xichen offers to give her a cultivation lesson.

It’s what her uncle used to do, when Lan Wangji and her were young and he wanted them to stay quiet. Lan Qiren had known how much they wanted to become great immortal heroes, so he always had their complete attention. And while his niece and nephew meditated, he was sure to have a moment of quiet to rest or take care of sect business.

Just like them, Jin Yan is an eager student. She’s desperate to do good, maybe thinking her mother will be less sad if she works hard. At least, Lan Xichen vaguely remembers having thoughts of that sort once she started realising her uncle and her mother weren’t very happy people (neither was her father, she supposes, but him she hardly ever met).

The lesson goes well at first. Jin Yan controls her breathing very well, better than Lan Xichen thought she did at that age. The little girl is getting into the flow of meditation when Nie Huaisang comes into the cottage, drenched from the heavy rain and dripping everywhere on Lan Xichen’s floor.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t cold,” she said with a charming smile. “Oh, you’ve lit a fire, wonderful! I was worried… it gets so much colder here than it does in Lanling!”

Of course Jin Yan is delighted to have a visitor. She runs to Nie Huaisang, radiating pride.

“Nie-jiejie, mommy is teaching me cultivation!” she announces. “I’m very good at it!”

“Fancy that,” Nie Huaisang says with a pout. “My little Yan-er, already cultivating… But is that really useful?”

“Yes!” Jin Yan replies with a grin. “I will be a great cultivator! I will help people and be strong! I’ll have a sword, and I’ll kill bad people! Just like mommy!”

Nie Huaisang smirks. Lan Xichen blushes.

She’s not the one who filled her daughter’s head with stories. It’s just things Jin Yan picked up, hearing people talk about the Sunshot Campaign. Lan Qiren might be to blame as well. As stern a parent as he was for his brother’s children, he’s always gone soft around his great-niece and has delighted her many times with tales of her mother’s youth, how she went to war for her people.

Someday, Lan Xichen will have to let her daughter know what sort of a person she really is.

Not today, though. She prays to any god listening that it doesn’t have to be today. She doesn’t have the strength to face Jin Yan's reaction to the truth. 

“My oh my, is your mother some sort of a hero, then?” Nie Huaisang asks, to which Jin Yan can’t nod fast enough. Nie Huaisang laughs, and smiles at Lan Xichen. “And now you’re teaching your daughter. But I must repeat my question, jiejie. Is this all really useful? I can’t imagine you did much of that in Lanling.”

Lan Xichen looks away.

She used to complain to Nie Huaisang about how much she missed the way she lived in the Cloud Recesses. The woman married to a sect leader is not allowed to live as she pleases, least of all when his reputation is perpetually one misstep away from destruction.

When she unsheathed her sword to kill Jin Guangyao that night, it was the first time in years that she’d had a chance to use it.

“Maybe you should teach your daughter more useful things,” Nie Huaisang muses. She crouches next to Jin Yan, and pokes her gently in the rib. “What does my YanYan say? Should she give up on cultivation and learn something useful, like how to bow elegantly, or how to balance a budget?”

“What’s a budget?” Jin Yan asks, even as she already shakes her head.

“Oh, it’s a very terrible thing,” Nie Huaisang assures her, poking her again. “The very worst. It’s deciding if there’s enough money for sweets, and then buying cabbage anyway, because sweets aren’t allowed for grownups. Do you want to learn that, instead of cultivation?”

“No!” Jin Yan shrieks, laughing. “Nie-jiejie, I wanna learn to be like mommy!”

“But your mother did more budgeting in her life than she did cultivation,” Nie Huaisang assures her with a falsely severe expression. “If you want to cultivate, you can’t count on mommy at all. But maybe if you went to class with my disciples… wouldn’t you like that, YanYan? And then, you’d be Nie Yan, how cute would that be!”

Of course Jin Yan just laughs and laughs, delighted by her dear Nie-jiejie’s nonsense. If Lan Xichen were not so unwell, she’d pick up her daughter in her arms and beg Nie Huaisang to leave them alone. But her body feels so heavy that just the thought of getting up makes her want to cry.

Maybe it’s not just the weather after all.

“Well, jiejie, will you let me give my name to your daughter?” Nie Huaisang asks with a cruel smile that turns into a frown when she turns her eyes to Lan Xichen. “What’s wrong with you now?”

“I’m just a little tired,” Lan Xichen replies as lightly as she can. “I’ll be better tomorrow.”

Unconvinced by that lie, Nie Huaisang gets back on her feet and comes closer to press a hand to Lan Xichen’s forehead. Her skin is freezing, when it always used to feel so warm.

“A slight fever perhaps,” Nie Huaisang notes. “And you looked off yesterday too. I’ll have someone come check on you later.”

“It’s fine,” Lan Xichen protests. “I’m fine,” she insists when Jin Yan trots to her and clings to her skirts. “Mommy is just a little tired from making a baby, it’s normal. We’ll continue the lesson tomorrow.”

“Yes, mommy is working so hard,” Nie Huaisang sneers. “Making babies is what she’s best at. It’s all she’s good at, maybe.”

Jin Yan turns to stare at Nie Huaisang, a puzzled expression on her face, as if she can feel her mother’s pain, but can’t quite understand that her funny Nie-jiejie is the one causing it. Nie Huaisang is soon back to the more charming version of herself anyway, advising Lan Xichen to rest, ruffling Jin Yan’s hair and kissing her cheeks. When she leaves, she promises again to send a doctor their way, because she would hate it if anything happened to Lan Xichen and her unborn child.

She might even mean it.

-

To Lan Xichen’s immense relief, she fell pregnant almost immediately after her marriage. Jin Guangyao kept his word, and stopped visiting her at night. As for Nie Huaisang, she immediately flew to Lanling to be with her wife. 

It was unwise to announce that pregnancy to anyone so early. But Lan Xichen refused to keep any secrets from Nie Huaisang. A wife shouldn’t hide these things from her husband, she told herself, and Nie Huaisang was still her husband, in a way Jin Guangyao would never be.

More than that, Lan Xichen desperately needed the company.

Life in Lanling was so much worse than she had expected it to be. Madam Jin couldn’t go a day without insulting the bride of the bastard who had taken her son’s rightful place. She didn’t dare to hit Lan Xichen the way she still did sometimes with Jin Guangyao, because the Lan sect would never have borne with such an attack, but words could do worse damage than blows. And Jin Guangshan did not help the matter, with the way he sometimes looked at his daughter-in-law. Lan Xichen tried to avoid him, especially on nights when he’d had too much to drink.

But with Nie Huaisang at her side, none of that mattered anymore. With her cultivation companion helping her, Lan Xichen found renewed strength to defend Jin Guangyao when others attacked him where she could hear, until no one dared speak openly against him except for his father and his father's wife. Not only that, but Nie Huaisang’s presence initially felt like an implicit message that Nie Mingjue too supported his former deputy.

That impression was maintained for the first few months of Lan Xichen’s pregnancy, when Nie Huaisang came to see her every week, spending more time in Lanling than she did in Qinghe. But during the fifth month of Lan Xichen’s pregnancy, there was an incident caused by a guest disciple of the Jin sect, an unpleasant boy called Xue Yang. An entire sect had been slaughtered, Lan Xichen was told, and Nie Mingjue was demanding justice.

After this, Nie Huaisang was not allowed to visit Langling anymore.

She still wrote, of course. She wrote many letters that Lan Xichen had to burn after reading, lest they be discovered by the servants she doesn’t quite trust and used against her or Jin Guangyao. Nie Huaisang’s letters were full of tears, full of love, full of desire. More importantly, they carried concerning news regarding Nie Mingjue’s health, whose temper had been degrading in a manner that could only mean one thing for a leader of Qinghe Nie.

Back in the Cloud Recesses, no one would have batted an eye at Lan Xichen travelling to the Unclean Realm to play healing songs for her oldest friend. But Carp Tower was not the Cloud Recesses, and Lan Xichen was no longer the First Jade of Lan. She was merely the Young Madam Jin, a wife, a future mother, a walking womb. Jin Guangshan and his wife might not care much about the child she was carrying, the unwanted offspring of an undesirable bastard, but they were quick to take its existence as an excuse to restrict her liberty. Lan Xichen was discouraged from practising with her sword, or to improve her cultivation until the child was born. She could not be allowed to be alone anymore. Her meals were closely watched. And, naturally, she was strictly forbidden from going to Qinghe.

“Those things are not your concern anymore,” Madam Jin said when Lan Xichen begged her to intercede in her favour. “A girl your age has no place in politics. Not to mention Nie zongzhu is a dangerous man, one who has positioned himself as an enemy to your husband’s father. If you went, people would say we are selling off our daughters to appease that man.”

“I am grateful that Jin-Furen now sees me as her daughter,” Lan Xichen had replied, much to Madam Jin’s displeasure who must not have intended to grant her that title. 

A pitiful victory, and one Lan Xichen would use someday.

Until then, she changed her plans. If she couldn’t play Cleansing for Nie Mingjue, someone else would have to do it. It was lucky, then, that Jin Guangyao was a gifted musician, that he had been tasked with dealing with Nie Mingjue on account of their former collaboration.

Jin Guangyao learned the melody.

Nie Mingjue’s temper improved, as did his patience.

Nie Huaisang returned to Lanling, almost as cheerful as she used to be.

Lan Xichen was happy again, or as close to it as she could hope to be these days.

It did not please Madam Jin, the way her daughter-in-law would sometimes disappear with her dear friend Nie Huaisang. Of course Lan Xichen tried to be serious and dependable, because Jin Guangyao was counting on her. But sometimes the rules and habits of Carp Tower felt too ridiculous, too pointless, so she exaggerated the aches her pregnancy caused, just to steal an afternoon in bed with Nie Huaisang when she visited.

Like this, with her true husband curled against her side, hidden in a comfortable bed, Lan Xichen thought that life wasn’t so bad. Nie Huaisang and her talked about the child, pretending it was theirs, that no one else had been involved in its conception. Lan Xichen hoped for a boy, so she wouldn’t have to go through that again. But Nie Huaisang thought a girl would be nice too, a pretty little girl that would look like her mother and be just as brave and clever. A boy would belong to the Jin sect and be closely watched by everyone, while a little girl wouldn’t matter as much and thus could go on extended holidays in Qinghe with her mother. Lanling was fine and all, but Nie Huaisang missed having her wife in her own home, and Nie Mingjue often complained that letters were not the same as seeing his friend in person.

Soon, Lan Xichen hoped.

Everything was fine now, she told herself. It had been no small sacrifice to marry Jin Guangyao, but she was glad she had done it, because it had solved so many problems.

That contentment lasted a few more months, until Lan Xichen was nearly ready to give birth. She’d been sent into confinement for the last two weeks of her pregnancy, with no visitors allowed except close family, not even Nie Huaisang. Madam Jin, who’d never been fond of that close friendship, had firmly ordered that Nie Huaisang in particular wouldn’t see Lan Xichen until after the birth. 

Lan Xichen, isolated from the world, had no idea what went on behind the walls of her room. She thought sometimes that the servants looked at her funny, that Jin Guangyao was oddly nervous. He assured her that he was not, and although Lan Xichen recognised that as a lie, she assumed he was worried about the birth to come, as many fathers were. Even among cultivators, it was not without risks.

Perhaps that was why nobody shared any news with her. They had to fear a shock would harm her and her child. She wouldn’t find out anything had happened until the hundredth’s day celebration. Only then did Madam Jin and Jin Guangyao finally sit her down to explain what was sure to be on everyone’s mind during the party, just so she wouldn’t be caught by surprise when other sect leaders asked her what she thought of those events.

Even when they finally told her, details were sparse. Madam Jin stuck to the official version, because that was all she knew, all she wanted to know. Jin Guangyao, who had seen it unfold, would have known more, but he was reluctant to talk about those events.

There could have been the option of asking Nie Huaisang at the party. She would have known, too.

Lan Xichen loved Nie Huaisang too much to ever ask her any questions.

All she knew, then, was that after weeks of peace, there had been a new argument between Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue. It concerned Xue Yang, once again. But this time their argument had taken a turn for the worse when Nie Mingjue had suffered a Qi deviation in public. It shouldn’t have been possible, not with Jin Guangyao playing Cleansing for him every week, and yet it still happened. Nie Mingjue had attacked blindly all those who’d been in his path as he tried to kill Jin Guangyao, even wounding his own sister. His rampage only ended when he finally dropped dead.

Jin Guangyao, out of friendship and pity for Nie Huaisang, had stayed at her side after the incident. He would have preferred to return to the woman he’d married, who would soon bring his first child into the world, but Nie Huaisang needed his help too much. She might have been Nie Mingjue’s heir, chosen by him years before, her support within the Unclean Realm was limited, and she might have been ousted if Jin Guangyao hadn’t been there for her.

And so it was that the new sect leader Nie buried her brother on the same day Lan Xichen gave birth to her son Jin Rusong.

-

Having become a mother five times already, Lan Xichen recognises the first pangs of childbirth as soon as she feels them in the middle of the night. She should wake Jin Yan and send her daughter to fetch the Nie sect’s doctor. This pregnancy, unlike her previous ones, has not been proceeding easily. In fact, she’s been forced to keep to her bed for the last two weeks. The Nie doctor says it must be the shock of everything that has happened in the past year finally catching up with her. Nie Huaisang, less kindly, has accused her of taking poisons, and had the cottage searched, the servants interrogated.

Lan Xichen took no herbs to get rid of a child she never wanted in the first place. But as he feels the ebb and flow of pressure against her back, she considers staying silent and letting herself bleed to death on her bed, her fate never discovered until morning. But it would be Jin Yan finding her, and that is too cruel for a little girl whose life already won’t be happy. Lan Xichen can’t do much for her daughter, but she can live, and protect her a little longer.

Jin Yan wakes up quickly when Lan Xichen shakes her. She grumbles at first, but when her mother explains what’s going on, when she is given a mission, Jin Yan cannot hop out of bed fast enough. She’s desperate to meet this new little brother (“Nie-jiejie said to pray for a boy!”) and barely throws on a coat before she runs out of the cottage to warn whoever she can find.

For what feels like an eternity, Lan Xichen is left alone. She controls her breathing the way she’s learned to, but very soon the pain is too intense for that, worse than anything she’s ever felt. 

She really might die like this.

She might die and Jin Yan will be left at Nie Huaisang’s mercy, which is no mercy at all.

She can’t let another of her children die.

Overcome with fear and pain, Lan Xichen bites down screams of anguish. Even when the doctor finally arrives, followed by Nie Huaisang who carries Jin Yan in her arms, the terror does not abate. Not when the doctor takes one look at her and advises that they send for a midwife in Qinghe, an old woman who knows better than him how to deal with a difficult birth.

“We’ll see about that,” Nie Huaisang replies, and through her agony Lan Xichen can pretend she hears concerns in the voice of the woman who once loved her. “Just do what you can for now.”

In her arms Jin Yan is crying and begging for her mother. Nie Huaisang ignores the child’s cries and carries her away.

Nie Huaisang always hated the sight of blood. Even for the joy of watching Lan Xichen die, she won’t subject herself to something that disgusts her.

It is a long and difficult birth. Lan Xichen is too weak. The child is not presenting itself right. She has lost too much blood. She hears the doctor mutter to his assistant that even if she manages to give birth, she’s likely to die soon after.

But at last the old midwife arrives, much sooner than anyone would have expected. Nie Huaisang must have sent someone flying to get her. In a moment of delirium, Lan Xichen imagines that perhaps Nie Huaisang went herself, that she still loves her enough for that.

It would be a pretty delusion to die with.

But Lan Xichen doesn’t get to die just yet. She has to survive and hear her child’s first cry, weak at first, then loud enough it seems to drown out every noise around her.

Another child she never asked for.

Another child that is taken from her immediately after the birth, though she begs with all the strength she has left to see it, to hold it at least once.

“I’ll give it to you when I’ve washed it,” the old midwife barks as she leaves the cottage, Lan Xichen’s newborn in her arms.

It’s a lie Lan Xichen has heard before. They said the same about the daughters that came after Jin Yan. Back then she had strength, but she didn’t know better, she didn't think a father could order the death of children whose sex he doesn't like, that his orders would be obeyed. 

She knows now, but has no strength to protect her child. 

Even breathing is too much effort after that excruciating birth, and all too soon Lan Xichen feels her mind slip to darkness, still wondering what will become of her children if she dies.

-

Lan Xichen did not cry when her father-in-law died, though she made sure to play the part of a grieving daughter. The last thing Jin Guangyao needed was for someone to point at his too cheerful wife and accuse him of something insane, like having murdered his father somehow.

But really, Lan Xichen, to her mild horror, is glad that Jin Guangshan is dead.

Once Jin Guangyao became sect leader, things changed for the better in Carp Tower. He finally had the power to enact all the reforms he had dreamed of, and he lost no time in doing so. New rules were set in place to help commoners who needed it but couldn’t pay Lanling Jin’s usual prices. Xue Yang, who had been freed after Nie Mingjue’s death, was sent back to a cell and then, at Lan Xichen’s insistence, executed for his crime. She found no pleasure in his death, but she had hoped Nie Huaisang would, when Xue Yang’s crimes had been the reason her brother’s health degraded so quickly.

Poor Nie Huaisang didn't react quite the way Lan Xichen expected when her wife shared the news. She just blankly stared at Lan Xichen, miserable and pitiful in her ill-fitting men’s clothes. 

"Just think," Lan Xichen insisted. "Da-ge can rest in peace now."

Her mouth twisting into a monstrous grimace, Nie Huaisang started sobbing so heavily that she hardly seemed able to breathe. 

She’d always cried easily, but never quite like that. Worse still, she wouldn't let her wife hold her or comfort her in any way, just crying harder every time Lan Xichen tried something. 

After that day, Nie Huaisang's mood turned more sour than it had ever been, causing her friends to worry that she might try to kill herself out of grief and despair. 

Of course Lan Xichen came to Qinghe as often as she could, once Jin Rusong was old enough to be left with a wetnurse for longer periods. She was Madam Jin now, her mother-in-law having all but left public life after her husband’s death, knowing she was not loved enough to stand against the new sect leader. Lan Xichen was Madam Jin, and she could do as she pleased… within reason.

What pleased her was to go the Unclean Realm to see her true husband.

She went every week when she could (she rarely could). And even when she was stuck in Lanling for one reason or another, trapped by the duties of a sect leader’s wife, she would ask Nie Huaisang to come visit her. 

Those invitations were seldom accepted these days.

It just wasn’t possible, when Nie Huaisang struggled so much with her new position.

Both Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao tried to be there for her. They advised her on how to lead her sect. They guided her on dealing with other sect leaders, who were so unkind to her. They comforted her every time another disciple left the sect, tired of her weakness.

Two years after Nie Huaisang rose to power, no one would have called the Nie sect a great one anymore.

Four years after Nie Mingjue’s death, and his sect might as well have died with him.

It broke Lan Xichen’s heart to see her friend’s legacy so ruined. It hurt also to see Nie Huaisang so pathetic. Sometimes Lan Xichen could hardly believe the little fool she would hear tales of was truly the same person as the passionate and clever girl she had secretly married, all those years ago. She would have taken it for mere gossip against one of the world’s few female sect leaders. Yet whenever Jin Guangyao went alone to help Nie Huaisang, the stories he brought back made it clear she really was as stupid and clumsy as others said. She only made an effort if Lan Xichen was there as well, and even then it was shocking to see how her mind and heart had been broken by loss.

Lan Xichen’s son would have made a better sect leader than Nie Huaisang, and he was four.

But the comparison was unkind, because Jin Rusong was an exceptionally bright little boy. He did not speak much, didn’t play well with other children except for his cousin Jin Ling, but he could read simple characters already, and kept asking to start learning sword fighting. Every day Jin Rusong reminded his mother a little more of her brother, who had been an equally serious little boy. Lan Wangji must have noticed the resemblance as well and he doted on the little boy. Sometimes the two of them would sit in silence together, never saying a word, and yet apparently having a great time.

Whatever other regrets she had about her life, Lan Xichen was glad she had her son.

Jin Ruson was such a sweet child that even Nie Huaisang, who never found joy in anything these days, loved him as much as if he were hers. Nie Huaisang called him her son, on those rare moments when Lan Xichen and her still stole time to be alone. She certainly spoiled Jin Rusong the way Nie Mingjue had once spoiled her. There were no trinkets too pricey, no clothes too expensive, for the child of her wife.

Sometimes, Lan Xichen felt compelled to protest against those gifts. Nie Huaisang’s sect wasn’t doing well enough to afford such extravagance. It brought too much attention to their close relationship. It was just too much, and Lan Xichen’s education was horrified that anyone could spend so much on anything so frivolous.

Lan Xichen certainly protested when Nie Huaisang came to a discussion conference held in Lanling and brought a colourful bird in a pretty cage. It was an important conference, one that hoped to finally determine whether all the sects would come together to build a series of watchtowers to make it easier for isolated areas to be helped. This was not the time and place to force Jin Rusong’s parents to think on how to accommodate a pet they’d never asked for.

“But jiejie!” Nie Huaisang whined, her lips already trembling as if she might cry. “I just wanted to be nice…”

“Mama, please,” Jin Rusong had begged as well, pulling on his mother’s robe, pointing at the pretty bird with the other. “Please?”

Lan Xichen was already weak to either of them on a good day. When the two people she loved the most attacked together, she was powerless. She’d asked a servant to watch over Jin Rusong while Nie Huaisang and her went to find a place to put that bird until it could be dealt with, preferably somewhere quiet where they could steal a few kisses.

Lan Xichen would never see her son alive again.

He would be found, a while later, his little throat slit. The servant girl who’d been watching him laid on the floor, stabbed multiple times through the chest. 

Lan Xichen remembered screaming and gathering her son’s corpse in her arms, begging him to wake up.

Her child, her son, her precious Jin Rusong. Her little boy who was so much like his uncle, who smiled so rarely but was always happy when she played with him.

Her child.

While the guests of the conference gathered around her to witness this tragedy,  Lan Xichen distantly felt Jin Guangyao’s hand on her shoulder.

“We will find who did this,” he hissed through tears of his own. “Whoever killed my son will learn that my mercy has limits.”

It was a promise he immediately set out to make true. Before Jin Rusong was even buried, Jin Guangyao was following some leads regarding possible murderers. He never rested, hardly ever saw Lan Xichen, hardly spoke to her either, desperate to avenge his only son. He owed it to Jin Rusong, he said. He owed it to Lan Xichen, too, because no mother should have lost her child that way.

Abandoned to her grief by Jin Guangyao, at least Lan Xichen had Nie Huaisang to comfort her. Her true husband had stayed in Carp Tower even after all other guests had left. She couldn’t bear to leave Lan Xichen to deal with this alone, she’d told her wife. Not when she knew too well what loss of such a magnitude did to a person.

Without Nie Huaisang at her side, Lan Xichen might have gone insane, or she might have let herself die. But her husband made sure she ate and drank, that she slept when she needed to sleep, that she washed sometimes, that she was never alone with her grief.

Nie Huaisang who didn’t stutter or cry so much during the days she spent comforting her wife. Suddenly she was no longer the little fool they’d all grown used to, although she hadn’t quite reverted to the gentle girl Lan Xichen had fallen in love with, either. A coldness of heart sometimes pierced through even her best attempts at taking care of her wife, like a storm raging under the surface.

If Lan Xichen had been less broken, she might have wondered about that. 

But by the time she had recovered enough to notice something was wrong with Nie Huaisang, Jin Guangyao was ready to reveal what he had found about his son’s murder.

He would announce it that day, he’d told Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang over breakfast. The entire sect was to be present, so an offensive could be immediately launched against the culprits. Lan Xichen too had to be there, but it brought her little comfort. It would not bring her back her son to kill the murderer, and revenge on the scale that Jin Guangyao was planning went against her Lan education. She did not like that her presence at his side would be taken as support and approval on her part. She did not like that to be absent would have weakened Jin Guangyao’s position too much to be considered.

She was combing her hair, getting ready for this new ordeal, when Nie Huaisang joined her. She’d gone to check on the bird she’d gifted to their poor son, a bird she would now take home with her whenever she left. It was the only time she ever left Lan Xichen alone, and when she came back her eyes were always red. It seemed for the first time in her life, Nie Huaisang wanted to keep her tears to herself.

That morning, she looked to have cried a lot as she leaned against the wall near Lan Xichen’s mirror, but under the wetness still clinging to her eyelashes, there was an air of determination.

“It was Jin Guangyao who killed him,” Nie Huaisang said. “Your husband just wants to blame Wang-zongzhu to get rid of him.”

Lan Xichen’s hands froze in her hair and she turned to stare in shock.

“Is that what people are saying?” she asked. “Are the servants gossiping? Is that… are they really accusing him of…”

She broke into tears once more, sick with horror. Even after all this time, even after everything Jin Guangyao had done to bring peace and safety to the world… would gossip never end?

“Think about it,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “What did Wang-zonghu have to gain from Rusong’s death? Nothing. What does Jin Guangyao have to gain? Everything. Now everybody who opposes him will be siding with a murderer. He’ll get his towers. He’ll get anything he wants. And all he had to do…”

“Stop!” Lan Xichen cried when she realised her husband wasn’t merely warning her of rumours. “A-Sang, don’t tell me you think he’d do something like that? A-Yao isn’t… he’s not… Do you have any idea how much he cried? Do you know how much it broke him? He’s been blaming himself so much…”

“Rightfully so, since he organised it,” Nie Huaisang coldly remarked. “I know he did it. I cannot prove it, but I know it.”

“You cannot prove it because he would never do that.”

Nie Huaisang pinched her lips and glared at Lan Xichen, her disgust apparent.

“So you trust him more than me?”

Lan Xichen hesitated, but eventually nodded.

“Yes. About this, I trust him. That was his son, Huaisang. His son, his only child! What sort of a monster would…”

“The sort who knows he owns a womb that can give him more,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “He convinced you once. He’ll convince you again. Maybe it’ll be easier now. Maybe he can breed you like a mare, one new child every year. You’ll need more than one, from now on. After all, they could die, right?”

Lan Xichen’s hand clenched on her comb, letting its teeth dig into her palm.

“Stop that!”

“I should not have let you marry him,” Nie Huaisang mused. “If I had known he’d turn you against me, I’d have fought harder to keep you. I trusted you too much. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m not against you,” Lan Xichen objected. “You’re against us! I don’t know how you can say such things against A-Yao, after all he’s done for you… you wouldn’t be in your position, without his help!”

Nie Huaisang flinched, and twin tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I know that,” she hissed. “Better than you do. And if this is your choice… fine. Enjoy your life as his prized bitch, Xichen. But don’t get too attached to the children you give him. Who knows how long the next one will live, right?”

The comb in Lan Xichen’s hand flew toward Nie Huaisang’s face before Lan Xichen knew what she was doing. She must have put all her strength into it, because Nie Huaisang yelped in pain. She brought one hand to her cheek and found it bleeding.

“A-Sang, I didn’t mean…” Lan Xichen started to say, only to stop when her husband glared at her.

She’d never seen Nie Huaisang so angry before.

She hadn’t even known that Nie Huaisang was capable of such wrath. Not her Huaisang, her sweet little husband, who laughed easily and cried easily and never let anything bother her for long.

Without another word, Nie Huaisang left the room. Immediately, Lan Xichen knew the woman she had called her husband would never come back to her. 

She was not sure she would have wanted her too. 

Not after Nie Huaisang had said such awful things. Not after she’d wounded Nie Huaisang.

Lan Xichen just finished getting ready, and went to join Jin Guangyao so he could demand the extermination of the sect that had killed their son. She listened as he rallied the Jin sect against those murderers, and decided she would never tell him the horrible things Nie Huaisang had accused him of. Poor Jin Guangyao would be too hurt, if he knew what their dear friend thought of him.

As for the Wang sect, it never stood a chance. Every man in it was slaughtered. Every woman and children, too, as an example. It was no less than what they’d all done to the Wen sect after the war, and it would send a message that crime would not be tolerated. Lan Xichen knew her brother and uncle thought less of her for having allowed this, when it went against the principles of the Lan sect. She thought less of herself as well, but she convinced herself she had to support Jin Guangyao, that it was the only way the world would ever know peace.

A month after their son’s death, Jin Guangyao started hinting that they couldn’t stay without an heir, not when his position remained more fragile than he’d believed. He hated to ask this of her, he knew how the loss had affected her, he wasn’t ready to be a father again, not so soon after tragedy, but it simply couldn’t be delayed too long.

Bred like a mare, a new child every year, Nie Huaisang had said.

Lan Xichen did not want more children. She had not even wanted Jin Rusong, no matter how much she had grown to love him.

When she agreed to Jin Guangyao’s request, after a few weeks of nagging, it was less to please him, and more out of spite against Nie Huaisang.

-

A girl.

It’s a girl.

Lan Xichen almost wishes it had been a boy, because the world has no kindness in store for children of Jin Guangyao, because an early death might have been kinder. She cries when the newborn is finally given to her. Another child she never wanted. Another child she’ll have to teach herself to love.

But Jin Yan smiles when she’s introduced to her new sister, as happy as if the baby is a present just for her, and Lan Xichen remembers that she’s done this before, that she can do it again.

“Will this one stay?” Jin Yan suddenly asks when the new baby’s little hand clenches on one of her fingers.

Lan Xichen says nothing. What can she say to her daughter, who saw her pregnant three times, who only got to meet one of her siblings, and then only for such a short time? Two little sisters who were dead at birth, or so Lan Xichen was told at the time, and a boy who died less than a week after his hundredth day celebration.

In Jin Yan’s experience, siblings aren’t meant to stay long.

But Nie Huaisang, sitting on the bed with them, smiles at the little girl.

“Don’t worry, Yan-er, I’ll make sure nothing happens to this one,” Nie Huaisang promises, ruffling the child’s hair with affectionate warmth. “There is a good doctor here, better than you had at home. And I know you’ll be a good sister. You’ll have to help your mother, you know. Being someone’s jiejie is a big responsibility.”

Jin Yan promises, and she gets to hold her new little sister, with some help from Nie Huaisang. And then Nie Huaisang too holds the baby, rocking it gently, the same way she once did with Jin Rusong.

The way she did to Jin Ruan, the day he died.

Lan Xichen has been wondering about that day since the moment she’s understood who Nie Huaisang really is. She is now wondering again, watching her still nameless daughter in the arms of a woman who maybe killed her second son.

There are questions Lan Xichen will never ask.

Questions she doesn’t need to ask.

She can sleep more easily if she pretends she doesn’t know the answer.

The month after the birth of the child who Lan Xichen eventually decides to call Jin Xiu is a peaceful one. The Nie doctor visits daily to make sure she’s recovering well, and the old midwife comes twice because she says she doesn’t trust cultivators of the Nie sect to know the first thing about newborns. Nie Huaisang too comes to the cottage every chance she has. Sometimes she plays with Jin Yan, who now adores her. Other times she takes both Jin Yan and Jin Xiu in the garden so Lan Xichen can sleep. On occasion she dumps both children with the wetnurse she’s hired and sits on Lan Xichen’s bed to feed her sweets and chat about inconsequential gossip or the latest poem she’s obsessed with.

Nie Huaisang is so good at playing the part of a perfect husband, even though she hasn’t called herself that in over half a decade. Sometimes Lan Xichen lets it fool her. She allows herself to pretend this is truly their life, that they’re raising children together, that Nie Huaisang loves her, that she loves Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang never lets her pretend too long.

“Why didn’t you give your daughter a different last name?” Nie Huaisang suddenly asks one day while cutting a mango in a bowl for Lan Xichen.

Lan Xichen stares at the fruit, bright yellow, shiny with juice. Nie Huaisang’s fingers are sticky with it already, just as they had been on a happier afternoon, half a lifetime ago.

“Yan-er wouldn’t understand if her sister had a different name,” Lan Xichen replies.

“You could always change her name too,” Nie Huaisang points out, smiling as her knife slices through a piece of mango. “Or are you so attached to the legacy of your husband?”

“I married him. That never made him my husband.”

Nie Huaisang raises one eyebrow. Once, she used to smile when Lan Xichen said this. It was a promise whispered between kisses, a reminder that Jin Guangyao was her friend and nothing else, that her heart only belonged to the woman she truly counted as her husband.

Once, they used to be happy.

Lan Xichen doesn’t even know why she said this.

“Open your mouth,” Nie Huaisang orders, pressing a piece of mango against Lan Xichen’s lips, who immediately obeys.

The fruit is sweet and melts against her tongue, leaving Lan Xichen wanting more.

It tastes like love used to taste.

“Another?” Nie Huaisang asks softly.

Lan Xichen nods and opens her mouth again.

Nie Huaisang smirks, and empties her bowl on the floor. Yellow pieces of fruit fall with a wet noise. When Nie Huaisang stands from the bed, she makes sure to step on them.

“You’ve ruined the taste of mangoes for me,” Nie Huaisang says. “I don’t see why you should still get to enjoy them. And as for those Jin daughters of yours…”

Lan Xichen takes a sharp breath, fearing the worst.

“From now on, they’ll be named Nie,” Nie Huaisang announces. “I find that I like them well enough, which is more than I can say about you. I’m letting you keep them for now, but once they’re old enough they’ll join my other disciples and only visit on special occasions. I understand it is something of a tradition for murderous wives of your family?”

“Huaisang…”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before invoking the past,” Nie Huaisang says with a smile. “You’ve chosen who you wanted as your husband, now live with it.”

She leaves soon after that, but the smell of the mango linger in the room, and its taste haunts Lan Xichen's mouth.

Maybe for her too that taste has been ruined. 

-

Jin Yan’s birth had brought Lan Xichen’s little joy. A boy would have been better, everyone made sure she understood that. Jin Guangyao couldn’t completely hide his frustration over that child that was of so little use to him, and that frustration infected Lan Xichen as well, who had disliked this pregnancy more than the first. Without Nie Huaisang’s visits to distract her, without her sweet husband’s letters between those visits, she had been left entirely at the mercy of Jin doctors and Jin traditions, bored out of her mind. And now, because she’s been unlucky enough to give birth to a girl, Lan Xichen knew she’d have to go through that ordeal at least once more. 

She did learn to love her daughter, in time, but only out of desperation.

The child after Jin Yan was another daughter, who died after being taken away to be washed. A weak heart, Jin Guangyao told her as they both cried over this unexpected loss. Lan Xichen hadn’t even had a chance to hold that baby, had never even seen her face. She didn’t get to mourn, not really, not when Jin Yan needed her, not when she had so many duties as a sect leader’s wife, not when as soon as she had recovered from the birth, Jin Guangyao started hinting that they should try again.

Their third daughter too had a weak heart, and also died on the day of her birth. Lan Xichen, who during the whole pregnancy had monitored the baby’s heart out of fear something like that would happen, didn’t know what to think. Checking the pulse of an unborn child was no easy task, she might have done it wrong. She had to have been wrong, or else it meant someone had killed her daughter. Lan Xichen refused to let her thoughts linger on that possibility. 

She didn’t want to accuse… it was only Nie Huaisang’s poisonous words clouding her judgement.  Jin Guangyao would not. He’d always dreamed of a large family, he’d told her so.

He’d told her, also, that he dreamed of having sons, legitimate sons, so his succession wouldn’t be marred by the sort of tragedies that his father had encountered when his only heir died prematurely. One girl was fine, for alliances, but what they needed was at least two sons to be safe, though Jin Guangyao was willing to settle for just one, if Lan Xichen felt he had already asked too much of her.

Some nights, during her fifth pregnancy, Lan Xichen found herself plagued by dark thoughts. She remembered Jin Guangyao’s carefully concealed irritation when she had refused to have another child until Jin Yan was a year old, how even then she’d complained how difficult it was to balance a pregnancy and a toddler. She had warned him they’d need to wait longer next time, that no matter how many wetnurses they hired, it took too much out of her. But with those undesired girls out of the way, she had no excuse not to start trying for a boy immediately.

How convenient.

Terrible thoughts indeed, which she blamed on Nie Huaisang, the woman who wasn’t even her friend anymore, and on the heightened emotions her pregnancy caused.

Jin Guangyao would never.

He mourned both little girls.

He was a good father for Jin Yan.

He was an even better father for Jin Ruan, when finally Lan Xichen gave birth to another boy. He doted on the baby, bought all manners of toys for him, and made sure he was dressed in the finest silks. Jin Guangyao had done the same with Jin Rusong, of course, and Lan Xichen had never questioned it, but now she couldn’t help noticing he wasn’t nearly as doting with little Jin Yan.

But of course, that was natural. Boys just mattered more, Lan Xichen’s whole life had been shaped by that fact.

And Jin Guangyao wanted only the best for his son.

That, apparently, included the certainty that Jin Ruan would inherit the Jin sect.

But no, even that was an unkind thought. Jin Guangyao hadn’t wanted… he’d had no choice, the elders of his sect had left him no choice. It wasn’t his fault.

It had been something of an open secret for years that Jin Ling had probably been conceived a little before his parents’ marriage. The dates didn’t quite make sense otherwise. And these things happened of course, especially for couples as deeply in love as Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had been.

But around the birth of Jin Ruan, a new rumour spread, one much darker than an engaged couple's indiscretion. People spoke of Jiang Yanli visiting Yiling, around the time Jin Ling would have been conceived. She’d met Wei Wuxian there, while wearing a bride’s dress, and stayed several hours with him inside an inn, while his fearsome Ghost General guarded the door for them, threatening all those who dared approach.

It would have been nothing more than a rumour, but a former disciple of Yunmeng Jiang swore that he had accompanied Jiang Yanli on that day. Worse still, several current members of Yunmeng Jiang gave weight to those accusations when they tried to explain what had really happened, which backfired when it only confirmed the reality of that visit.

After Jin Ruan’s hundredth’s day celebration, Jin Guangyao advised Jiang Cheng to take his nephew to Yunmeng for a while, for his own safety.

Two days after Jin Ling had left, a group of Jin elders pressured Jin Guangyao into declaring his nephew illegitimate. Jin Guangyao was heartbroken, and assured everyone that he did not believe those rumours against his nephew, but those elders had threatened secession if he allowed a possible child of Wei Wuxian to rule over their sect. To protect Lanling Jin, to protect Jin Ling himself, Jin Guangyao had to remove him from the line of succession.

Three days later, Jin Ruan died in Nie Huaisang’s arms.

It hadn’t been Lan Xichen’s choice to spend any time with Nie Huaisang. But for years already, Jin Guangyao had been working on a reconciliation, even when neither of them would explain why they’d fallen out, nor indeed admit that they no longer got along. It saddened him, he would tell Lan Xichen, that his two dear friends had argued, that they even avoided each other’s company. More importantly, it made his friendship with Nie Huaisang suspicious to some, especially when she relied so much on him to rule her sect. Lan Xichen knew Nie Huaisang too well to think she’d ever take a man as her lover, but others couldn’t know that, and she hated that people would think Jin Guangyao capable of betraying the woman he married. To protect his reputation, Lan Xichen agreed to make an effort to be more cordial toward Nie Huaisang next she saw her.

And she saw her next right after that business with Jin Ling was dealt with.

Poor Jin Guangyao had only just been forced to exile his beloved nephew, and now he had to deal with Nie Huaisang’s most recent series of problems on top of that. He’d been eager to help, as always, which impressed Lan Xichen a little more with each passing year, when everything she had once loved about Nie Huaisang now irritated her. Once Nie Huaisang had explained the problem, Jin Guangyao had offered to write some letters on her behalf, and he’d gone to do so, leaving Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen alone.

Nearly alone.

Little Ruan was in his mother’s arms, while Jin Yan hid in her mother’s skirts, at once fascinated and worried by this stranger who dressed so oddly. Even after all these years, Nie Huaisang still hadn’t fixed her men’s robes (another source of irritation, how hard could it be to not look so silly?) and little Jin Yan was trying so hard not to say anything rude. But it wasn’t just the children with them. Jin Ruan’s wetnurse was never far. Female disciples came at one point, to complain that their favourite teacher was thinking of defecting, now that Jin Ling had left for good. A number of servants were coming and going to ask for instructions, to check how to deal with the last remains of the hundredth day celebration, or notify that they weren’t sure how to finish packing Jin Ling’s things to send to Yunmeng.

Lan Xichen wouldn’t have known how to behave, had she believed alone with the woman who thought she had married a murderer. But in public it was easier to act with grace and politeness, to chat with Nie Huaisang as if she were one of those wives of sect leaders who Lan Xichen often welcomed in her home. In response, Nie Huaisang was indecisive and whiny, just as expected.

Later on, Lan Xichen couldn’t remember why she had handed Jin Ruan to Nie Huaisang. It couldn’t be that the other woman had asked for it, not when she’d never hidden she wasn’t comfortable with children until they were old enough to walk and babble. It must have been Lan Xichen’s own idea, then. Maybe she had hoped that Nie Huaisang would stop snivelling for a moment if she was busy holding the baby. But then there had been an issue with Jin Ling’s things, yet again. Jiang Cheng had just sent a letter containing a precise list of every possession of his nephew’s that should be sent to Yunmeng.

With another guest, Lan Xichen would have set the letter aside for later. But she felt Nie Huaisang had lost the rights to her attention, and this was urgent business.

She’d made it halfway reading through the list when Nie Huaisang started panicking.

“Jiejie, there’s something wrong with the baby!” she cried.

Lan Xichen elected to ignore her.

There had been ‘something wrong with the baby’ four times already that afternoon, usually Jin Ruan blinking too little, or salivating too much.

“Jiejie, he’s not breathing!” Nie Huaisang shrieked, and this time Lan Xichen did look up from the letter, more irritated than worried.

Had it been anyone else holding her son, anyone else screaming like this, of course she would have reacted faster. But Lan Xichen had grown immune to those antics, and tended to assume Nie Huaisang’s mood changes could be safely ignored.

But the wetnurse rushed to Nie Huaisang’s side and took the child from her. It was only when that woman too cried in anguish and went pale that Lan Xichen truly understood that something terrible had happened.

By the time Jin Ruan was given back to her, his face and hands were already blue, his limbs limp in a way sleep would never have explained.

They never really figured out what had killed him. 

The doctors who inspected his little body found nothing wrong with it. It appeared he had really just stopped breathing all of a sudden. Babies could be so fragile, as Lan Xichen knew too well. And yet, while he had taken the death of their daughters in stride, Jin Guangyao immediately started throwing accusations of poisoning now that it was a son who had died.

Nobody accused poor little Nie Huaisang of course. She’d cried and cried so much when she’d understood that Jin Ruan had died, blaming herself for what had happened, threatening to kill herself because surely it was her fault, surely she must have held him the wrong way. 

No matter how many times everyone told her she’d done nothing wrong, she tried to use this new tragedy for attention and Lan Xichen, forced to control her grief and guilt, hated her for it.

Nie Huaisang was annoying and self-centred, as she’d always been, but that did not make her a murderer. Besides she had nothing to gain from such a death, Jin Guangyao quickly pointed out, nor did she have allies who could have pushed her to it. In fact, Jin Guangyao himself was her only ally, the only reason the Nie sect’s territories hadn’t yet been fully devoured by ambitious neighbours. Nie Huaisang was an idiot, but even she wasn’t stupid enough to turn against her only friend. She could have been manipulated into taking part into a plot perhaps, but she had been thoroughly interrogated about the events of that day and Jin Guangyao was convinced of her innocence.

Instead, accusations were aimed against Yunmeng Jiang, which had been given some reason to dislike Lanling Jin and whose sect leader was renowned for his cruelty. Meanwhile, Jiang Wanyin rightfully argued that there was a history of infant death among Jin Ruan’s siblings, proving it must be Jin Ruan’s parents who just couldn’t give birth to a healthy child. This, combined with Jin Ling’s eviction from his father’s sect, permanently soured the relationship between Lanling and Yunmeng.

After this new tragedy, Lan Xichen informed Jin Guangyao that they would not have any more children. There was only so much grief her heart could take, only so many children she could lose. Jin Guangyao was disappointed, but he respected her choice and he promised he would never ask again.

Jin Guangyao kept his word, too, and for a little while they merely focused on raising Jin Yan.

Jin Guangyao never complained whenever people whispered that it was his rotten blood that caused his children to die. He tried to spare Lan Xichen whenever people worried about the future of the Jin sect, now that its only heir was a girl, in a sect that did not allow them to lead. Jin Guangyao endured all this and more. Sometimes Lan Xichen would find him crying alone in his office, but he always put on a brave smile, always told her she did not need to worry, that he would find a solution, that he had already asked so much of her, that he couldn’t possibly demand more than she had already given.

Lan Xichen could only see her dear friend suffering for so long before pity became stronger than her broken heart. Two years after Jin Ruan’s death, she offered that they try for a child again. Their last one, she said, and maybe they would be lucky this time.

They would have to be lucky.

Odd rumours had started reaching them when Lan Xichen made that new concession. Stories of Wei Wuxian returning to life, scouring the countryside with his Ghost General once more. Someone even swore to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao that Wei Wuxian had called onto Wen Ning specifically because Jin Ling had been in danger, and wasn’t that proof Jin Ling had to be his son? It had to be why Wei Wuxian had killed Jin Zixuan, so many years before, that person said. He must have wanted to steal his son back from the Jin sect… and then didn’t it confirm they’d been right to kick that orphan boy out, that son of a monster, who had probably cursed his little cousin Jin Ruan as revenge, using his father’s methods?

It was nothing but gossip, the whole lot of it. Lan Xichen eventually learned the truth when her uncle wrote to give a more accurate account of the situation. The Ghost General had been spotted indeed, but Mo Xuanyu, who had controlled him, had been firmly proven to not be Wei Wuxian, even Jiang Cheng himself had confirmed it. And besides, that was almost the least interesting part of the story. Lan Xichen was more curious about the cursed arm her uncle mentioned, as well as Lan Wangji’s new friendship with Mo Xuanyu. Jin Guangyao’s half brother was not someone Lan Xichen knew well, but she knew what he’d tried to do to Jin Guangyao. And yet if Lan Wangji had decided to involve him in his investigation, it had to mean Mo Xuanyu had used his years away from the Jin sect to redeem himself.

How very interesting..

But all of that interested only her. Everyone else focused only on the sensational tales of Wei Wuxian and his secret child.

Lan Xichen was almost glad when she very quickly realised she was pregnant.

With everything going on in the world, at least here was some good news for Jin Guangyao, who was so worried about his nephew’s future, and all these horrible rumours he had to deal with.

And who knew.

Maybe they’d be lucky, and finally the Jin sect would have a male heir once more.

Poor Jin Guangyao deserved that much, after he’d suffered so long.

-

Nie Yan is in class with other children her age, and Nie Xiu has been sent to the garden with the wet nurse. Having isolated Lan Xichen once more, Nie Huaisang closes the door of the cottage.

Lan Xichen braces herself, unsure if she’ll have to endure kindness or cruelty this time. Unsure which is worse.

“Jiejie, don’t look so scared,” Nie Huaisang purrs, stepping closer. “I’m not scary, am I?”

She’s terrifying. Or at least, Lan Xichen is terrified. Not just because of the things Nie Huaisang is capable of doing, the things she’s capable of saying.

Lan Xichen is terrified because for the first time in years, Nie Huaisang isn’t wearing men’s robes. Instead she came to the cottage wearing a flowy dress in the style she so loved as a youth, decorated with pretty embroidered flowers and birds. Her hair is done up in the fashionable style that her brother once complained was unpractical.

Nie Huaisang was pretty as a girl, but today she’s beautiful enough to make Lan Xichen’s heart ache.

This outfit is for her, she knows.

She’s not sure if it’s meant to please or torture her.

She’s not sure there’s a difference anymore, when it comes to Nie Huaisang.

“Jiejie, won’t you tell me I look nice?” Nie Huaisang whines, in exactly the same tone she used once, when fishing for compliments was one of her favourite games.

Lan Xichen feels a decade younger when she looks at Nie Huaisang.

She feels like the girl who secretly married her true love, with only her best friend as witness.

A girl who thought that she’d already experienced all the hurt the world had in store for her, because surely nothing could be worse than the war she’d just survived.

A girl who still believed in happiness.

“Jiejie, won’t you touch me?” Nie Huaisang begs so prettily. “Jiejie hasn’t touched me in so long, don’t you want me anymore?”

Lan Xichen isn’t a girl of twenty anymore.

She’s given up on happiness, on love.

She knows no matter what Nie Huaisang lets her have now, it will quickly be soured by hateful words.

She still takes Nie Huaisang in her arms, still presses her lips to those of the woman she once loved. Nie Huaisang’s mouth opens to let her deepen the kiss, the taste of her unchanged by tragedy.

It’s dizzying, how little has changed. The way Nie Huaisang’s breasts feel just as soft, her sex just as wet. Her moans still sound like a melody. Lan Xichen, after a decade of giving, allows herself to take and take everything she can have.

She’d forgotten how good it can be, to be in bed with someone who knows her body better than she knows it, someone she wants as she’s never wanted anything else.

Lan Xichen doesn’t know how she survived without this.

When it is over, they lay entwined and sweaty on a ruined bed. Lan Xichen had forgotten how good that was, too. She’d never allowed Jin Guangyao to stay with her, after their attempts for children, and he’d never asked. But Nie Huaisang is wrapped against her side, her skin burning and soft, and she’d missed this more than she’d missed making love.

“My wife is thinking too much,” Nie Huaisang yawns cutely. “What can she be thinking about, I wonder?”

Something in her voice is… off. A warning that the time for joy is over, that she’s getting ready to hurt Lan Xichen again. Lan Xichen has learned to recognise that shift over the weeks of her imprisonment in Qinghe.

And if she must hurt anyway…

“This wife wonders when her husband stopped loving her,” Lan Xichen replies, gazing at the ceiling above them.

Nie Huaisang chuckles lightning, nuzzling Lan Xichen’s shoulder.

“But jiejie, two girls can’t be in love,” she says. “That's what you always used to say, don’t you remember? You must have been right. I must never have loved you, if I can now hate you so much.”

That’s a lie. Lan Xichen can doubt many things, she’s been wrong so often, but she knows that Nie Huaisang loved her, that she loved Nie Huaisang. In a world of shadows, this is one absolute truth she can cling to.

“Are you going to kill me someday?” Lan Xichen asks.

“If I wanted you dead, I’d have left you in Lanling,” Nie Huaisang replies with a grin, stretching to kiss Lan Xichen’s throat with tenderness. “Death wouldn’t be nearly enough for what you’ve done to me, to Da-ge, to the world. No, this is the only appropriate punishment, jiejie. Everything you’ve ever wanted, and yet none of it.”

Shivering, Lan Xichen finds that she really can’t think of anything worse. Losing her daughters maybe… but she’s not much of a mother, she’s survived so much loss, she’d survive again.

“Isn’t it a punishment for you too?” Lan Xichen wonders “When you hate me this much?”

Nie Huaisang bites her in answer, hard enough to make Lan Xichen moan.

“It has its rewards,” Nie Huaisang chirps. “I like knowing that you’re so pathetic, you’re happier with me now than you ever were with him.”

Lan Xichen hums, and lets her fingers run through Nie Huaisang’s hair.

It’s not untrue that she’s happier now. She’s a prisoner certainly, but back in Lanling her actions were also constantly restrained and questioned too. Here she is allowed to cultivate as she pleases. Nobody sneers if her hair isn’t perfect, if she dresses more simply because it’s practical. Here, her daughters are allowed to play in the dirt and stain their clothes. She can read cultivation books without being accused of neglecting her other duties, she can read novels and not be taken for a bad example. And Nie Huaisang, cruel and vicious and hateful, Nie Huaisang who killed her son, Nie Huaisang who made her kill the man she married, is still the person whose company makes Lan Xichen happiest.

Lan Xichen would rather be hated by Nie Huaisang than loved by Jin Guangyao.

Maybe that is why she lowers her head to capture the lips of the woman who was once her husband. She kisses her while her hands start wandering again on that adored body, ready to steal more pleasure, for as long as Nie Huaisang’s cruel games  will allow it.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #seriously check the tags on ao3 #jau writes

[sohyuki]

FIRST LOVE/LATE SPRING. 

TO: @cottonfluffs 

gemstone. ruby + kazuha

genre/warnings. angst a smidge of fluff, forbidden love. 

PART OF TEYVAT GEMOLOGY 

He knows it’s wrong. 

Archons above, he can hear the one thing that separates the two of you echo between the spaces of your bodies. How many times has he heard it? From his great-grandfather, his grandfather, the other clan heads, the women — with their snapping fans and painted lips and peering eyes, his father. It’s been drilled in his education, his training, his morning and afternoons and evenings. His entire life has revolved around the teachings etched in that one word, in the five letters that make up the cage that bind him to his duty. 

(Kazuha, you must never, ever taint the blood that runs through your veins. We are of noble birth, and it is our duty to ensure that that is how it will always be — Noble.) 

He knows it’s wrong but why does it feel so right. 

He shouldn’t want you like this. Someone of his standing (Noble) shouldn’t even look at someone of your background (Tainted) but you’re so impossibly beautiful and joy takes a different meaning when you are the one that wears it. Every time your hands brush, Kazuha is reminded of his name — his past, his present, his future, and the ages beyond that. 

Kaedehara, the wind whispers when he smiles at you. 

Kaedehara, the trees sing when he sneaks out of his room to meet you. 

Kaedehara, the ground shakes when he lies and lies and lies to his family. 

Kaedehara, the sky roars every time he says he loves you. 

Kaedehara, Kaedehara, Kaedehara. 

The life of an heir (Noble) is pre-determined: As an infant, he will be cared for and loved and cherished because he is the successor to a story, a lineage as old as the land. 

As a child, he will begin his education, studying swordsmanship and literature, etiquette and music, strategy and warfare. He will acquaint himself with the heirs of other clans, forging friendships and alliances under the guise of play-time. 

As a youth, he will meet eligible marriage candidates, daughters and nieces of Inazuma’s nobility. His bride must know her place — she must be lovely and possess a demure personality; she must be second to her husband, his clan, her father, her children; she must not speak out of turn and must always, always, obey the words of her husband. She will bear him children: two, maybe three if he’s lucky. Preferably boys. 

As an adult, he will lead his clan and heirs, taking over the foundations laid by his predecessors. 

And then he will pass the torch to his sons and journey to the yomi no kuni. 

(But you…you are so different. You have no name to uphold, no clan to please. No father, brother, husband, wife or children to bow to. Freedom clings to you like a second skin and Kazuha longs for even the briefest taste of what a life with you might offer.) 

He knows this love is wrong. The way you feel in his arms, the light in his chest — wrong. This is everything his clan taught him to avoid (Tainted) but everything in him, in Kaedehara Kazuha, yearns for this to be right. 

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin angst #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha imagines #kazuha drabbles #genshin drabbles #kazuha angst #kazuha headcanons #kazuha scenarios #mint.entry #teyvat-gemology:gemstones

[dnyllmh]

Loving From Afar [Prologue]

Sanemi x OC (Rosalina Nakata) CW: Mentions of a possible abusive mother; other than that just fluff

Total Words: 2k

Loving From Afar M.List | Next Taglist: @kyojuros-eyebrows ;

-" Daddy?"

-" Yes, sweetheart?"

-" I need help. I don’t think I’m doing it right…"

-" Let me see."

The older man approached his daughter. The child was sitting down at a small desk, right in the middle of the room, practicing her writing. He sat next to her, going over everything she has written so far, and to his surprise, without a single error so far.

-" You’re doing amazing sweetheart, just keep writing. Even if you do make a mistake, it’s alright. Nobody learns how to write in one day, sometimes even I still make mistakes when I’m writing. Remember that making mistakes is normal, it makes you human!" The man spoke softly, bopping the child’s nose at the end and causing a set of giggles to erupt from the little girl's throat. 

The sweet moment is interrupted by a small knock outside the door. It slides open, to reveal one of the housekeepers, one the little girl didn’t like. The housekeeper was mean and would insult the little girl when her father wasn’t around, making her cry. She even did it in front of her mother but the little girl suspected it was all because she had instructed the housekeeper to do such.

-" Lord Nakata, there’s someone at the door wishing to speak with you." She woman spoke softly, bowing her head to the older man.

He sighed, getting up and patting the little girl on the head. He passed the housekeeper, a small thank you towards her as he passed. The little girl returned to her studies, ignoring the keeper being here, even tho she could feel the glares being thrown at her. The little girl hated her but she didn't care at that moment, she only wanted to make her father proud. She was the oldest child, she might not be the heir to the clan but she still wanted to help in any way she could. So she decided to dedicate all her focus and devotion to being a good child to her father. Shortly after the glares were replaced by her father's kind voice.

-" Rosalina?" The girl quickly turned to her father, expecting him to have some meeting and wanting to move her studies to a later time of day. 

-" Yes?" She smiled at her father.

-"You have a visitor." The father stepped aside, allowing into view a small boy. Rosalina's smile only grew at the sight of her friend. She quickly got up, her excitement making her completely forget her previous studies. As she approached the sheepish boy, he bowed his head towards her. She was only a child but the boy was aware she was of high importance, the first indication coming from the way each child was dressed. 

The boy was wearing quite plain and cheap clothes, the size a bit shorter than ideal for the boy's height and age. Rosalina on the other hand, wore a beautiful hakama, the material was clearly expensive and filled with delicate and intricate designs all along her sleeves.

Once he lifted his head up from the bow, Rosalina couldn't help but giggle. She understood her social position, but having her close friend do it still felt silly.

-"Hi Sanemi!" She boy smiled at her just as warmly as she did. 

-"Rosalina-San, I wanted to ask if you wanted to come play with me?! I already asked for your father's permission." The boy spoke, looking up towards the older man when mentioning the prior conversation, asking his permission to steal the little girl from her studies. The father simply nodded, a warm smile towards the boy. Despite their social differences, the father approved of the boy. His mother was incredibly hard-working, doing her best to feed her children, having also seen the boy work around town. Whenever he personally heard of a job offer that would be well paid but manageable by a small woman, she would be the first he would call for. The man had never met the boy's father, only heard rumors of his monstrosity towards his family and later on about his murder. 

-"I would love to!... But maybe I should change first." The girl looked down at her beautiful hakama. 

-"What's wrong with your clothes, sweetheart?" The father questioned, raising one eyebrow with curiosity. Rosalina giggled.

-"Nothing, Daddy! Mother might get upset with me if I ruin it while playing..." The bright smile slowly disappeared at the small mention of her mother. She was cruel enough as it was, Rosalina did not wish to give her mother any more reasons to punish her. The father kneeled down near the girl, coming to her eye level.

-"Who gave you this beautiful hakama?" He spoke softly while touching her sleeves.

-"You did."

-"That's right. If you ruin it, I'll buy you two more. If your mother says anything, you tell me. Alright?" His tone was stern yet his smile never changed while comforting his daughter. The girl nodded at her father's words as her smile returned, while also taking advantage of his kneeling to hug him tightly. He didn't get a chance to hug her back, her excitement taking the best of her while she ran outside while pulling on the boy's hand.

-"You're too soft on her, Ayumu." Almost as if from the shadows, the mother appeared. "She needs to learn how to be a proper wife. She doesn't need to spend time humiliating herself around that street boy." Father didn't react to her words, his back towards her, almost choosing to ignore her. He did not wish that future for her. He might have had the fate of an arranged marriage but he wouldn't let his children go down the same path, hoping they would be able to pick their own life partners. 

-"She doesn't need to worry about that. Not while I'm here." Mother snarled.

-"We'll see about that." Those were her last words as she disappeared through the shadows of the house, the same way she had originally appeared.

-"Rosieee~!!" Sanemi whined as his friend splashed water on his face, her only response being another fit of giggles as she ran from him, avoiding getting splashed herself. The two were down at the small river that passed near the town, close enough so neither parent would freak out but far enough to be as loud as they wanted. Sanemi had rolled his pants up to his knees to avoid getting them soaked, while Rosie preferred to stay out of the water complaining about how cold it was. That didn't stop her from still splashing him though. 

-"You asked for it, Nemi!" She said, her eyes full of tears from laughing so hard.

-"I said it was hot today, NOT for you to splash me!"

-"Same thing, you baby!" Sanemi pouted at her. At this point his hair was sticking to his forehead, shirt slightly drenched while her? Fully dried, her hair still has perfectly done as it was when they first left her estate. But it wouldn’t be for long. 

Sanemi had his head low, faking being upset. He knew she would feel bad, she was never one to take jokes too far, caring too much about their friendship. As he made his way back into land, Rosalina's laugh died down.

-"Nemi, wait! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He could hear the concern in her voice. With his head still low, he walked just close enough to see the tips of her hakama and then he got his revenge. Before she even had time to react, he was bending down and throwing as much as his small hands could towards her, laughing the whole time. 

She quickly got up, trying to get out of his reach, realizing she had been tricked by him. By the time she was far enough, it was too late. Her perfectly done hair was now a mess, almost a mirror of Sanemis. She turned towards him, her mouth open almost as if offended by his actions while all he did was hug his stomach from crying too hard. At this point, there was no use running, the damage had already been done, so she walks back towards him.

He sat down on the grass, his feet still in the water. She sat next to him but still not fond enough of the water's temperature to put her feet in like Sanemi had done.

-"Thanks for saving me today." Rosie spoke softly.

-"Don't mention it! I know how much you hate having your nose stuck in books all day." He gave her a warm smile, which she happily mirrored. Rosie looked up towards the sky, watching as the clouds went by. Sanemi admired her a second, a small blush creeping on his face, before looking up as well.

-" You already know what I did... what about you? anything new?" It was her turn to admire him. She always found Sanemi to be the cutest boy she had seen, even compared to the high-born boys her mother had forced her to meet.

-" Same as usual, sold some stuff around town with Genya to help Mom... I wish I could help her more." He sighed as he laid down on the grass, eyes still focusing on the clouds. "I'm the oldest son, it's my job to help and take care of them."

-" You're 10, Nemi. There's not much more you can do, you already do too much."

-" I don't have a choice with Dad gone." They fell into silence. She decided to lie down as well, her head angled almost as if resting her head on his shoulder. He quickly leaned his head into hers.

It was times like this when Rosie felt bad about complaining about her life. She knew Sanemi had it much worse than him yet he never said anything, only listening to her, while he had to around town pulling a cart probably double his weight just so he could make some extra yen for his mother. 

-"I can smell the burning from here..." He teased. He could tell she was lost in thought. She had the habit of going silent when something was running around her mind, as opposed to her usual chatty self. 

-" I just wish... I wish Dad would teach me swordsmanship as he does with my brother. Then I could teach you... and we could run away from here." She moved her head slightly, so she would be able to look at him. " We could earn some good money and help your mom!"He stared at her face, almost lost in thought as well.

-" You would do that? Run away with me and help my mom?" The thought of someone giving up their own life of luxury just to help them made him quite emotional and Rosie was special to him, so that didn't help either. -"Of course, Nemi! I'd go to the end of the world with you if you asked." -"The world doesn't end, Rosie! It's a sphere, remember? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."She giggled at his teasing. 

After another brief moment of silence, Sanemi lifted his arm towards the sky, his pinky extended. -"Let's make a deal!"

-"A deal?? Daddy said only drunk men make deals..."

-"A promise then."

-"I don’t know how I feel about that."

-"Rosie!"

-"Okay! Fine! What's the promise?"She asked as she lifted her arm up in the air as well, imitating Sanemi. He seemed to ponder for a second before turning his face towards her again, finally speaking. 

-"Let's promise to help each other. Let's become swordsman, or- woman, in your case, and then we can help my mom, we can protect each other and always have fun together." Rosie giggled at the last part. As he finished his sentence, she back to their arms still extended, wrapping her pinky finger around his.

-"Deal!"

-"I thought only drunk men made deals?" 

-"Nemiii~!" The boy giggled as she was the one now whining after he had used her own words again her. She let go of his pinky and got up from her spot, starting to walk back up the path towards town. Sanemi quickly got up and followed his friend.

-"Wait for me, you baby!"

A/N: AAAAH!❤️ It's finally here, I'm so excited! I hope whoever reads this enjoys and feel free to ask questions about Rosie.

#dnyllmh #Loving From Afar #sanemi fluff #sanemi shinaguzawa #demon slayer #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x reader #sanemi x oc

[angelst4re]

hello love! first of all, I appreciate you ❤️

I was wondering if we could have a quick lil fluff piece where reader and Jamie have a small child together and they’re getting them ready for Halloween? Since we’re approaching that of the year now! Maybe they have a family costume situation, and they’re going to go out trick or treating. I feel like Jamie, being the witch king and spooky lad he is, would make Halloween time so fun for a kid if he had one. I just think that would be so cute 🥹

hii love! thank you <3 i've been waiting for this week to post this... and i 100% agree, he would make it so fun for them :')

Trick or Treat- Dad!Jamie x Reader

summary: it's halloween!

warnings: none! :)

note: i brought back our loves charlie and belle for this one!! <3 also now i'm finally posting this i've realised it's quite short :(

“Mummy!” Belle huffed, a frown appearing on her face, “it doesn’t look right!” 

“But this is how she has her hair, sweetheart.” You tell her, looking at her in the mirror before placing a kiss on her cheek, “you look amazing!” 

“But my hair isn’t right! Daddy knows how to do it!” 

“Do you want me to get him to do it instead?” You ask, unbraiding her hair. 

“Yes, please.” She sniffles. 

This year, seeing as you and Jamie have both a son and a daughter, he suggested dressing up as the Addams Family for halloween. Belle loved the idea of being Wednesday and Charlie couldn’t wait to wear his striped t-shirt to be Pugsley. Jamie had bought a fake moustache and slicked his hair back to be Gomez and you had bought a beautiful, long black dress to be Morticia. 

You put down the hairbrush and left the bathroom to find Jamie, who was sitting on your bed with Charlie- using your makeup on him?

“Hey, this is expensive! We bought face paint, didn’t we?” You grin, plucking the makeup brush from Jamie’s hand. 

“We did…” Charlie began, before looking down. 

“He dropped it, it was an accident, darling” Jamie explained, before whispering, “he got a little bit upset about it.” 

“That’s okay! Accidents happen, love.” You sit down on the bed beside Charlie as he cuddles up to your shoulder. “Oh and Belle asked if you could do her hair, she said you can do it better than me.” You chuckle. 

“Of course!” Jamie grinned, standing up, “we practised it a couple days ago, it looked amazing. I think I should become a hairstylist!” 

You giggle as Jamie leaves the room to help Belle out, before turning to Charlie. 

“Let’s finish your makeup then, shall we?” 

He grins as he nods his head, so you pick the makeup brush back up. 

Once the kids were finally ready, Jamie occupied them in the living room so you could get changed into your outfit and do your makeup. You were surprised how quick you got ready, but you knew you had to hurry as the kids were excited and couldn’t wait to go trick or treating. 

As you walked carefully down the stairs so as to not trip on your dress, you could hear music coming from the living room. 

“They played the Monster Mash!” You heard Jamie sing in a funny voice as the kids giggled. 

He carried on singing along, not noticing you were standing at the door. Charlie was by his side, dancing with him as Belle sat on the sofa, laughing as they danced like zombies?

“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” You decided to speak up after the song had finished, leaning against the door as you smiled at your little family. This was truly all you could ever ask for. 

“Sorry, love.” Jamie pouted, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on your skin, “you look amazing.” He whispered. 

Jamie was wearing an old suit of his, one you forgot he had. He never failed to look wonderful, no matter what he wore. Even last halloween when you all wore matching fruit-themed onesies and he was a banana, he was still a beautiful banana. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you grinned, kissing his cheek. “So, who’s ready to go trick or treating?” 

Belle and Charlie’s eyes widened as they rushed to pick up their black pumpkin-buckets and stood by the door. Jamie followed them, he was almost as excited as the kids. 

“C’mon, y/n!” He smiled, everyone waited for you as you went to get everybody’s coats. 

“It’s going to be cold out there-”

“No! It’s going to ruin my outfit!” Belle frowned as you handed her her coat. 

“But you don’t want to be cold, darling.” Jamie said, helping her get her arms into the sleeves as you helped Charlie into his coat. 

“Can we go now?!” Charlie asked, desperate to leave. 

“I guess so.” You grinned, handing Jamie the car keys. 

Jamie had driven towards the town where you lived, where there were more houses to go to. He wanted to make Belle and Charlie’s first proper halloween one to remember. 

“Go on then, love. Knock on the door.” Jamie smiled in encouragement as Charlie and Belle approached the first house. 

“But I’m scared,” Charlie’s lip trembled, “will you come with us?”

“If I must.” Jamie pretended to sigh, handing you his phone as he held Belle and Charlie’s hands and walked up to the door, “when they answer, what do you say?” 

“Trick or treat!” They sang, big smiles on their face. 

As the door opened, an old lady stood on the other side, dressed up as a witch. She ‘awed’ at Charlie and Belle’s costumes before handing a big bowl full of chocolates out to them. They took one each and the woman looked at Jamie, a look to say ‘go on, take one too!’, and so he did. He grinned and thanked the lady as Belle and Charlie began to make their way back to you. 

“What did you get?” You asked, smiling as they showed you their chocolate in their pumpkin-buckets. 

“And I got one, too!” Jamie grinned, looking very proud of himself. 

“Mummy, can you come with us to the next house?” Belle asked. 

“You might get some chocolate like daddy did!” Charlie added. 

“Yeah, come with us!” Jamie smiled, kissing your cheek, his fake moustache making your skin feel itchy. 

“Okay! As long as you don’t kiss me with that moustache on again!” 

“I don’t know about that…”

By the end of the night, Belle and Charlie’s buckets were full of all kinds of sweets and chocolates as you all walked back to Jamie’s car. 

“I don’t want to go home yet!” Charlie frowned. 

“But we’ve been to all the houses here, and your little buckets won’t fit anymore sweets in!” You smile, helping him put his seatbelt on. 

“We could eat some of them and then we’ll have more room!” Belle suggested. 

“That’s a good idea!” Jamie gasped, helping Belle with her seatbelt. 

“No, don’t encourage them, Jamie!” You chuckled. “It’s past their bedtime!” 

“But it’s halloween! I have a shopping bag down there by you, they can tip their things into theirs and we can find some more houses to go to!” He grinned, getting into the driver's seat. 

“Pleaseeee.” Belle pouted. 

“We promise to give you some of our chocolate!” Charlie added, making you smile. 

“Well, I guess I know some more houses we could go to…” You begin, “Jamie, take a left out of here and head towards the other side of town.” 

You reach down to pick up the shopping bag by your feet and hand it to Charlie, he tipped his collection of sweets and chocolate into it before passing it to Belle so she could do the same. 

“This is the best halloween ever!” Belle smiled, looking out the car window at all the passing houses.

#jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie bower x reader #dad jamie <3 #it's halloween!