#bold soul sister

[bitter69uk]

The Beyhive was abuzz when Beyoncé dropped a teaser for her two new country-adjacent song (“Texas Hold 'Em” and “16 Carriages”) during the Superbowl. But when it comes to African American soul divas dabbling in country music, as so often the case in pop culture history, Queen Tina got there first! I’d always mistakenly assumed Acid Queen (1975) was Tina Turner’s debut solo effort, but no – the record Tina Turns the Country On was released in September 1974 (so it turns fifty this year. Note that Tina started releasing solo material when she was still married to Ike). On it, the R&B tigress wraps her gravelly rasp around material by the likes of Kris Kristofferson, Dolly Parton, Hank Snow, Bob Dylan and James Taylor. While Turns the Country On garnered Turner a Grammy nomination that year for "Best R&B Vocal Performance, Female" it belly-flopped commercially (no singles from it were released) and the reviews were decidedly mixed (“She sounds so woeful doing country on Turns the Country On, you would think she grew up overseas” Ron Wynn concludes in his 1985 book Tina: The Tina Turner Story). You can judge for yourself – the album is streaming on Spotify. Ultimately, as the Saving Country Music website notes “perhaps Tina Turner’s biggest country music contribution came from being a muse, not a performer. In 1969, Waylon Jennings was hanging out at the Fort Worther Motel in Fort Worth, TX when he breezed by an advertisement for Tina Turner describing her as a “good hearted woman loving two-timing men.” Waylon immediately recognized the phrase as the perfect premise for a country song” – and it resulted in his 1972 hit “Good Hearted Woman.”

#tina turns the country on #tina turner #beyonce #lobotomy room #country music #waylon jennings #good hearted woman #rhythm and blues #soul music #soul diva #ike and tina turner #bold soul sister

[faehrnem]

In a different timeline, where Faehrnem never comes to be as the Bold Tree follows in his older sister's footsteps by setting aside his own wants and dreams to instead begrudgingly take on his role as an avatar.

#my art #gw2 #commander faehrnem #pale tree #SURPRISE i'm finally talking about my characters lol #faehrnem would have been avatar for the second blighting tree (malyck's) but was brought over to the pale tree's side of the dream #while his mind was still forming so she could ensure he would defect as well and not embrace his true purpose as mordys champ #pale tree was to be mordys voice. lol #but uhh other stuff happened and the bold tree didn't want the same life as his sister and in a disagreement the siblings had #the bold tree is nearly wiped from the dream itself when pale tree accidentally uses magic that horrifically dmged him #so! in her grief the pale tree removes the avatar magic from her brother's. mind? soul? both maybe? idk the dream is weird #and later on after years of recovering and with no memory of what happened #faehrnem reawakens in the dream as a (to everyone's knowledge) regular sylvari so hecan live out his dreams of roaming the world #along side his friends and family (and then some) and just living a fulfilling life full of adventure and excitement #and brother. does faehrnem get it LOL this is what you signed up for buddy. now go kill those pesky dragons #anyways if you read all of these tags congrats! here's a gold star #this was a very shortened version of his backstory and there's. a lot of details i'm leaving out but maybe for another time #for now i hope you can enjoy these disaster siblings. lmao

[neil-gaiman]

Hello, Neil Gaiman. I am writing this letter of gratitude because I am in despair, but I am obliged to you. I am Russian, I live in a small town in the south of Russia, in the Caucasus. a month ago I turned 16, so now I am fully responsible for all my actions. I'm bisexual, which is now illegal. you understand what I mean, but I’m simply scared to write about such things. absolutely no one knows about this, and I have to hide every day. this is an unbearable burden, but I must say thank you. because your projects are what gives me life. you have no idea how much pleasure it was for me, at eight years old, to fearfully admire Mr. Bobinsky. when, at 14, I finally saved up money for the Russian edition of Good Omens, which I had to order via the Internet not directly, but through my friends, I was quietly delighted. it is worth paying tribute to: this edition is really good and very warms the soul, its design may not be filled with elegance with a golden border, but it is very homely, cozy and imbued with love for the work, this can be felt, even if the translation is not the best. and on the very first pages I felt something that I had never experienced, having problems with the nervous system and anxiety: I felt protected and happy. I felt complete. each line was a sip of life-giving water for me. let me be so bold but this book is perfect for me and it's hard to believe it wasn't written for me personally haha. like two pieces of a puzzle. I hold the book of Good Omens, and I cry almost every time because it feels good just to hold it in my hands. you shouldn’t put this next to fanaticism, it’s just personal happiness. sometimes I felt so safe with this book that I hugged it as I fell asleep. then I saved up to the translation of script book for the first season, and I must say that I am confused, because there are no deleted scenes in it with Crowley shopping or the opening of Aziraphale's bookstore and others, and this was not clear to me. and a month ago, on October 30, my cousin, who is like my own sister, gave me the original Good Omens for my birthday. can you imagine? in all of Russia she was able to find only one person who carried out such foreign orders (please forgive me, I have little understanding of this). so, in some ineffable way, a copy was delivered to me via America from Corgi Books, I think, 2014. soft cover and thin pages, of course, but I'm so happy. and I’m also grateful to myself, because I’ve been learning English since I was seven, and therefore I’m glad that I can read the original. oh, you should have seen with what rapture I waited for the release of the second season at three in the morning! and with what delight I watched it in English without subtitles, understanding what was happening. this is happiness. what I want to say is that you bring…indescribable happiness to my life. you give me strength, and I don’t give up. I cry every time I allow myself to dream that I am escaping from here. that I can meet you and say thank you in person with my stupid accent, not so much because of my native language, but because of the braces, hahaha. but I never stop dreaming about it, although even this is hard. thank you for everything. I wish only peace and love. with devotion, love and gratitude, A.

I'm sending thoughts of love and concern. Stay safe.

[vagabond-umlaut]

hey, where is the pomegranate tree?

unstoppable force, aka kore, aka gojo, meets immovable object, aka hades, aka you— nothing can ever go wrong from this collision, trust me— n-o-t-h-i-n-g.

▸ gojo satoru x fem!reader; hades and persephone retelling [with a twist ;))]; 1.2k wc; stubbornly persuasive gojo; the reader is js so tired and annoyed [and tired]; enemies to lovers vibes[??]; talks of marriage and children; gojo thinks you are a fool, he is the real clown here

▸ pls don't glare at me if there is more than one inaccuracy here, haha. anyways, the header is from pinterest, the divider is by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ update: this fic is now part of a series!!! wreaths of asphodel 😊😊

"you shall spend the rest of your days in tears."

you're foolish; woefully so, gojo thinks, carefully observing you from his place on the chaise lounge, smiling while you continue seething, "and there will be no one who can save you. neither a hero nor a god. neither demeter nor zeus. no. one."

"but why do you think i will need saving, my rose?" the endearment rolls off his tongue like honey, the taste sweetening at the way your pretty lips dip into a deeper frown, "you're not a monster, are you?"

"no!" the defensive reply comes in less than a beat. though the words following it sound a tad less bold; it seems as if you're trying to make yourself believe and not scare him.

"i'm someone far fiercer— hades. the goddess of the dead. the queen of the underworld— and the cause for your misery should you choose to vex me any further."

"aw, no," gojo cries, decidedly making a show by slapping a hand over his eyes and faking a sniffle, "why must the only woman i want as my wife see me as an annoyance?"

then lets his hand drop down to the cushion, willing his eyes to well over with pitiful moisture. "as the god of life, i've only ever given and given– be it grains or fruits or vegetables or flowers– without asking anything in return— yet the first and only time i ask..."

he doesn't bother finishing his sentence, choosing to sob to add to the tragic atmosphere— though that doesn't mean he doesn't note the war of emotions on your face:

pity, confusion, anger, again confusion— you're so easy to read, to steer. very foolish, really.

"you'll not like living here," you eventually break the silence hanging within the room. your voice is much softer now; the god wonders if you sing. if you do, the muses will certainly be put to shame... "your days will be spent in utter boredom and gloom and tears–"

"– and no one can come to my aid then: yes, thank you," he interrupts you, more than a little tired, "you've driven the points too well into my head– so much so that i'm surprised there isn't a gaping hole in there, oozing blood and my brains. but why must you think i'll need rescue, huh??"

if a smidge of force escapes into his words, gojo decides not to pay it any mind— though only until he notices the small flinch you give– his insides twist and torment, quite inexplicably, thereafter.

"okay, look," he says, getting up from his slouch to move near you, but stops on catching the warning glint in your eyes.

"first of all, i'm not some damsel in distress being whisked away in a chariot here– i came here by own volition. and i'm offering my mind, body, heart, soul– the special package that i am, in fewer words– to you, by my own volition. why shall i want anyone to rescue me then?"

"besides," he proceeds to add, allowing an easy smirk to form on his face, "you're just the cute little goddess of the dead– not at all scary like your brother used to be; though i guess you try to imitate him in your glares, don't you? sukuna was quite notori—"

"don't you dare utter my brother's name, foul olympian," a quiet growl slashes gojo's comment, sending it plummetting to the ground— and making him understand why you, the inconspicuous, sheltered sister of the vicious former holder of the name 'hades', was given the crown, in the aftermath of your brother's banishment– instead of the several more well-known candidates...

"i apologise," gojo offers in the very next instant, making it as genuine as he can, "i never meant to upset or offend you. i'm sorry if i did."

you just stare at him for a beat, gojo watches, before your shoulders lift then fall in a sigh. the fire burning in your aura abates by a pinch.

sighing once more, you finally break your silence, "It's okay, and um– suppose i too should apologise. you might be an olympian but you're not as foul as them, no. please forgive me for calling you so."

"no problem, my rose," the god is quick to accept your words with a wave of his hand and a beam, further widening when he notices the sliver of smile on your countenance, "but does this mean i appeal to your tastes? i mean, you called me 'not as foul as them', didn't you?? did you just accept my hand in marriage, then???"

"no, i didn't..." your subtle smile disappears swifter than it appeared. a half of gojo's floral crown, quite inexplicably, wilts on the table before. he watches your eyes fall to it, then snap up to meet his.

"do you love me?"

not yet, but he thinks he can. you might be an idiot but you certainly aren't an unlovable idiot— and one voice in his mind murmurs, those precious, innocent looks of yours aren't even the main reasons why...

the god shoots back a languid smile. "if you want to see me in love with you, so be it."

"that's neither 'yes' nor 'no'," you point out, frowning, before vaulting your second query of the evening, "if we get married, do you want to have children?"

it won't be very unfavourable, if you both do... with the vivid colour of your eyes, or the adorable shape of your nose, or the radiance of your skin, or the— "if you want, i shall be happy to assist," he ekes out with a meaningful wink, albeit he doubts how much of it reaches you.

you're very foolish, after all... and no– it's not because of the awkward way he says it– no! not in the slightest! he wasn't fumbling at all!

you wrap the shawl tighter around your shoulders but don't move any further away, gojo notes. the same way he does the slight tint in your cheeks when you roll your eyes with a scoff.

"you're unbelievable, kore. truly, terribly unbelievable." you press the pads of your thumbs over your forehead before releasing it, gaze an unprecedented mark of sharp when it settles on his face.

"is there nothing you want from our union, eh? i refuse to believe you wish to marry me without any demands, as if on a mere whim– but if it is so, i ought to warn you, kore: my answer is and will always be one firm 'no'."

your words mustn't ignite this odd restlessness in him. they certainly mustn't— still, gojo finds his chest tight and the air heavy as he grins back and says, "i only want to be your husband, your majesty... but if that is too much for you right now–"

the stretch on his lips simmers down to something smaller. yet truer.

"i want you to call me by my name. my real name. can you do that, my rose?"

you don't say anything in response for a long while. so long, in fact, it makes the god wonder if you are ever going to reply to his request.

perhaps not, he thinks quite a bit down-spirited when you suddenly turn on your heel and with a swish of your long shawl, stride out the rooms– o-oh.

you stop just as abruptly at the threshold. a complicated grin shining on your face as you twist to look at him over your shoulder then say:

"good night, gojo satoru. pray the ghosts prowling these halls don't eat you up ere dawn."

you're gone not even few feet away from the door, before gojo falls face-first into the bed, the entire room suddenly erupting into thousands of roses in all colors ever seen. [lolol, he is such a loser for you! xD]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

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pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

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pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

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pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

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pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #divination #love #love message #valentines day #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

[specialagentlokitty]

Neteyam x Mute!reader - mesmerising

Could I request Neteyam x Mute!Reader. Maybe they're a well-respected hunter and known for their gentle touches with the Ilu and the Tsurak. Maybe Neteyam sees them while he's learning and asks Tsireya who they are - Anon💜

A/N: sign language will be in bold

Tsireya was leading Neteyam to the water and that’s when he first noticed you, standing waist deep in the water as your hands gently moved over the head of a small IIu.

He stopped walking and focused on you instead, which is what caught Tsireya’s attention.

She followed his gaze and smiled a little as she walked over, standing next to him.

“Our best Hunter.” She said.

Neteyam snapped his head to the woman beside him, scrunching his brows a little in confusion.

He flicked his eyes back to you for a second before turning his attention fully to the na’vi who was supposed to be teaching him about the way of the water.

“That is (Y/N), they are our best Hunter. Respect by all Metkayina. The people trust them.”

Neteyam nodded his head as he turned his attention back to you.

You walked through the water with ease, tail swishing behind you as you approached another IIu, touching its head, giving a small bow before you moved past to greet some more.

“What’re they doing?”

“They are checking on the IIu, making sure they are well and happy. (Y/N) has a strong soul, deep spiritual connection to the land and the animals.”

Neteyam nodded his head again.

He was captivated by you, and as Tsireya looked at him she couldn’t help but smile at the look of pure amazement on his face.

He looked at you as if he had never seen such a na’vi before, as if he had never seen anything so beautiful, so absolutely perfect he was scared if he took his eyes away from a second you would vanish.

“You wish to know more?” Tsireya asked.

“Yes…” he breathed out.

“Come. Come.”

She quickly grabbed his hand and they jumped back on to the walkway, and she took him to the edge, looking out upon the water you were walking in.

You approached a Tsurak and he panicked.

“We have to stop them! They’re going to get hurt!”

“Wait, just watch.”

He stopped himself from rushing forward and watched you carefully.

The Tsurak didn’t seem happy about you approaching, and it swam around you in circles, but you stood there, hands in the water.

After a tense moment, it slowly swam over and touched your hand, poking its head out of the water enough for you to brush your fingers over its skin.

You bowed your head at it before letting it go.

You looked to the sky for a moment before you dived into that water as with that you were gone.

“They will be hunting now, only (Y/N) and a few of the men go behind the reef.”

“Aren’t they a bit young to be a hunter?”

Neteyam knew each tribe did things different, but from what he saw there was no way you could’ve been much older than him.

Hell, he was sure you could’ve been at least a year younger than him.

Tsireya just laughed at him and shook her head.

“No, no. They received the title of hunter earlier yes. But a hunter like them is only born ever couple of hundred years, no one has seen such elegant hunting before.”

Neteyam wanted to learn everything he could about you.

“Can I meet them?” He asked nervously.

“I can’t see why not. Do you remember the sign language we taught you?” She asked.

He nodded his head confused.

“Great, you’ll need it. Now let’s go, you still have a lot to learn if you wish to be Metkayina.”

Neteyam tried to focus on his lesson, but he couldn’t, he was so focused on you. He couldn’t shake you from his mind.

He finished his training early, and you still had yet to come home, so he spent his time with his brother and sisters, sitting outside the hut waiting your return.

“You’re looking eager.” Kiri said.

“Oh yeah, he’s smitten for someone!” Lo’ak laughed.

“Neteyam has a crush!” Tuk laughed.

Neytiri was standing behind them a small smile on her face as she looked at her youngest children poking fun at their older brother.

Walking over, she crouched down next to him as the three ran away laughing to themselves.

“So who is it?” She whispered.

“Mom.” He sighed.

“Come now, I will find out eventually.”

Neteyam knew his mother was right, so he sighed and looked back over the water and that’s when he was you riding back, hauling a large next on your back.

Neytiri followed her sons gaze and smiled a little.

“A good hunter.”

He hummed and nodded, quickly standing up.

“See you later!”

He jogged away, following wherever you were going to before he lost sight of you.

Neteyam thought he had lost you, but when he jumped down in to the sand he saw you patting the head of your IIu.

A few of the tribe were standing around waiting, and you set the net on the ground, crouching down you held your hand out.

Neteyam stood nearby, watching as you out fish in peoples baskets, they thanked you and let the next person go.

By the time you were done, the sun was starting to set, and Neteyam took that as his chance to approach you.

“Hey.. Uhm.. hi…” he smiled.

You looked up, holding your hand out to him and he titled his he’s sun confusion and you did the same.

“I uh.. I don’t have a basket?”

You stood up, looking at him.

Are you not here for fish?

Neteyam blinked, your hands moved too fast for his eyes, he was still only learning so sometimes he struggled to understand what was being said to him.

“I’m sorry can you repeat that? I’m still learning.” He laughed nervously.

God, he wanted to make a good impression on you and here he was making an absolute fool out of himself.

Are you not here for fish?

This time he was able to understand what you said to him and he shook his head.

“No, sorry if I confused you. I actually wanted to get to know you if that’s okay?”

You smiled and nodded your head, gesturing for him to follow you so he did.

You walked around, handing out some more fish until you only had a few left and you took it to an empty hut and set it down.

Sitting down, you gestured for him to do the same thing.

You were with Tsireya earlier right?

“Yeah I was, you saw me?” He asked.

His tail swished a little in happiness at the thought of you spotting him as well, and he watched as you started to cut up the fish.

You nodded and set the blade down, looking up at him.

I am a hunter, I see all. What’s your name?

“Right! I’m Neteyam!”

He grinned and you smiled back, and he felt his heart stop a little at the soft smile.

You already know my name. Why did you want to talk?

He awkwardly looked away, trying to figure out what to say. He could either tell the truth, or come up with some complete lie. And that sounded like the better option.

“I heard you were the best hunter. I’m learning to be a hunter, I was wondering if you could help teach me?”

You put the fish in the pot above the fire and added a few more things before turning to him.

Yes, I can teach you. But I teach differently to others.

“That’s cool!”

You nodded your head and your ears flickered a little as you heard a series a short calls.

His ears flickered as well and he looked behind him before turning back to you with a smile.

“Sorry I have to go, can I see you tomorrow?”

I will find you.

He grinned brightly and nodded, getting up he jogged away, his thoughts absolutely consumed by you and all the questions and all the things he wanted to learn about you.

You were a mystery to him, and if there’s on thing Neteyam loved doing, it was solving mysterious

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #Neteyam imagine

[gingiesworld]

Demonic

Nun Wanda Maximoff x Demon Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut. Shameless smut. If you aren't comfortable with reading it, just scroll along and don't press any buttons. You are banned from pressing buttons ;),

Taglist: @bababaka @natashaswife4125 @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @marvelogic @louxbloom

18+ MINORS DNI

It was quiet around the covenant, Sister Maximoff was always on last call duty, walking the halls after dark to make sure that her sisters were all secluded to their own quarters. Once she was sure that no one was out after hours, she returned to Sister Y/L/N, she had been there years prior to Wanda's arrival but her other subordinates were oddly submissive to her.

"The halls are clear Sister." Wanda informed her as she closed the door behind her.

"Thank you Sister Maximoff." She walked around Wanda and locked the door before she pushed Wanda to sit in the chair, a sinister smile on her face as she looked over the beauty before her. "It's a shame really."

"What is?" Wanda questioned as she tilted her head. A look of confusion on her face.

"Your beauty is such a waste here." She whispered as she leaned over Wanda, her eyes flickering black for a brief moment.

"I don't understand." Wanda whispered as Y/N smirked.

"Such an innocent being." She husked out as she caressed Wanda's jaw with her long cold fingers. "I bet it was your father's wish to send you here." Wanda was stunned by how bold Sister Y/L/N was being, but her mind was also on the way her fingertips felt on her skin.

"My father only wanted me to follow the path that God had set out for me." She whispered as Y/N chuckled manically.

"What about the path you wanted for yourself?" Y/N questioned. "The adventures you could have been having outside of these confines."

"You speak as though you know of such adventures." Wanda stated as Y/N smiled down at her words.

"Such a smart girl." Y/N praised her. "I bet you yearn to live a full life, not this half life you have taken on."

"You're just as stuck as me." Wanda told her.

"That's where you are wrong, my sweet love." Y/N snarled as she leaned in closer to her. "I have the freedom to leave this place, with just the snap of my fingers."

"But our path." Wanda tried as Y/N's hands moved to her thighs, squeezing harshly before moving them up.

"Our paths have been entwined." Y/N husked as her hands moved just above her pubic bone, gripping at the fabric that covered her. "Not the path your father has chosen for you." She ripped the fabric away, revealing Wanda's white underwear. "The path that was written for us." Her hands ghosted over Wanda's covered core, licking her lips as she looked into Wanda's eyes. Her eyes changing to their natural smoky black, causing Wanda to gasp.

"You're." She tried to fight Y/N away who gripped her hands, baring her teeth at the woman.

"Yes." She snarled. "I am and I always get what I want." She leaned closer to Wanda who turned her face away. "And I want you." She bit Wanda's ear, making the woman whimper at the new sensation.

"This isn't right." Wanda whispered as Y/N started to nip softly at her neck, her hands moving to Wanda's underwear, ripping them away and causing her to gasp as the cold air brushed against her puffy and dripping cunt.

"Yet, you aren't pushing me away." Y/N inhaled through her nose. "And your arousal says you want this just as much as I." She growled as she thrusted a finger in her gaping hole, causing Wanda to moan at the sudden intrusion. "Listen to the sound Wanda, your juices flowing, all for me and me alone."

"All for you." Wanda whimpered as Y/N kept a steady pace.

"Look at my fingers Wanda." Y/N growled as she added another. "Look at how they disappear inside of you." Wanda moaned at the sight, Y/N's digits disappearing and reappearing at a faster pace. "I want to ruin you." She growled. "Make you mine. Mark your soul as mine."

"Please." Wanda moaned as she gripped the sides of the chair. "Take me away." Her eyes closed as she reached her first ever orgasm, her cum coating Y/N's fingers as she helped her ride out her high. Wanda listened as Y/N chanted in old Latin before she felt a burning sensation on her wrist. Y/N's mark now burned into her porcelain skin.

"Now you are mine for the taking." And in that moment, the two disappeared, leaving the room as it were before they had participated in their activities.

Y/N had shown Wanda the life and the adventures she was missing out on. The touch and ravenous love of another as she had mind blowing orgasms, night after night. Completely forgoing the oath she had made at her father's request, the disappointment of her father would not affect her as she felt everything that was only ever described in those novels she loved to read when she was a girl.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #save nun wanda #lets all save nun wanda #nun wanda’s cross

[pigeonpeach]

The joy of motherhood

Aka raising Lynette and Lyney! Apart of the Mother figure x arlecchino series!

Oh Lyney is the most bold of the children. He has no cat features but he’s the most like one. When he was little he’d sometimes get startled by loud sounds, he was untrusting of many. Once he saw you as a mother figure he became more attached to you like the other children. If you napped on the couch during your break he’d sit by you, wanting to keep you safe, sometimes he’d end up falling asleep ontop of you, if you held him and just rocked him gently and sung a little lullaby he’d be out like a light. He really appreciates you. Not only because you’re the only mother he’s had but you’re also one of the few he trusts with his siblings.

As he’s gotten older he’s actually been more comfortable around you. You’re his mom! So you’re guaranteed a seat at every show, you’re given many s gift as thanks for the comfort and home you gave him and his sister. You trust him to keep Lynette and Freminet safe, and whenever he’s in a stressful situation he thinks about how you would be waiting for him anxiously worried about his health. Its a good motivatior.

Lynette is more distant. She’s not super cuddly likd her brother but she spends more time with you when she can. Tea time being her favorite game to play with you. She sometimes follows you around just to see how you prepare it. She didn’t know different tea bags had different flavors for awhile, so she was confused how the same process brought different flavors. She also would join Lyney in guarding you during naps. Overtime she did become a bit cuddly. If you held her for long enough in a comfortable and private setting she’d fall asleep, her head buried in your shoulder and her tail curled around herself. She enjoys your lullabies the most.

You two haven’t drifted at all since she’s moved out and matured. She regularly goes out for tea or comes back to visit. It also helps you lure her with free desserts you’re preparing as rewards for good behavior. She enjoys spending time with you the most.

Freminet unlike the other two wasn’t as quick to view you as his mother. Because he had a mother, he knew his mother, and he lost his mother. He unlike the other two never calls you mom because he never wants to replace his late mother, which you understand and respect. Still you remind him of her many times. He clings to you silently ad you chide him for not properly checking his diving gear. He brings you pretty things like pearls or sea shells as gifts which you appreciate. But oh he misses his mother so deeply. You can never take her place but you can soothe that ache in his soul to have someone to hide behind and cry to. When you hold him in your arms just brushing his hair and humming he feels safe. He feels like he’s at home with you. He doesn’t mind you calling him your child, he likes it. He just wishes you had joined sooner. But maybe not because the previous director would’ve never let you get away with such kindess.

As he’s gotten older he’s spent more time diving than not. You worry about him which he knows. He tries not to be too risky for that reason. He remembers how you once frantically pulled him from the water desperately pushing on his chest, tears in your eyes as you begged the gods that he wouldn’t die. Since then he’s always been super cautious with his equipment. Even if he has a vision now, he still felt horrible that you were that worried about him. He doesn’t want you to worry about him, he doesn’t want you to cry over him. In some ways, although he doesn’t call you mom, he treats you like he’d treat his own mother. With a great deal of respect, as well as a bit of clinginess.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #arlecchino my husband i love her so much #lyney and lynette #freminet #genshin impact imagines #domestic fluff #comfort #arlecchino x you #its implied though #i wanted to focus on the kids this time #kinda gendered reader #fmab reader #genshin impact #arlechinno genshin

[yzzart]

— Blessed oath.

© do not repost or translate !

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: after so many years apart, isolated, Aemond decides to come to you.

warnings: incest, explicit language, explicit words

word count: 3.694!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

The prince, who was recognized for his fearsome posture and his intimidating eye patch and having the blood of blood coursing through his veins, was aware of the danger and possible bloody war that he could face along his way, but, he was aware that could create a war to woo his dear sweet niece.

There were so many unhappy years, which Aemond described as living proof of hell, apart and with the absence of the warmth of bodies together crying out for love. — Even though the reason was completely involving Aemond, it stabbed his sister's decision.

He remembers the vague words he uttered to his sister to leave his daughter beside him and her father, your dear grandfather; Viserys, but, obviously, she denied the defiant request. — And with so much reason, Aemond used this one to complete all his anger and hatred for Rhaenyra.

The good gods, those who all begged for blessing and those who accompanied the Targeryens, knew that Aemond would kill anyone including his own sister to have his sweet niece at his side. — Not to mention his biggest enemy, his uncle; Daemon. That the one-eyed prince was informally bought by some of the outskirts of the red fortress and some mediocre kingdoms.

Your father, the rebel prince, would have Aemond's head if he only knew he'd come near you. — And you know better than anyone that he could do it. — And living with a situation as disturbed and suffocating as this was living proof of hell. — But, nothing was more suffocating than not feeling the heat of your lover's body next to yours.

The two of you were like two dragons living in conflict with the burning and pure feeling of passion, causing your souls to unite into one. — Two dragons, one souls. That was the motto.

And for all those years, damned years, Aemond's desire for you grew every single day. And he learned to connect with that feeling so hungry. — During his privileged training as a prince, he showed more vigor and agility. — A brute form was being ignited in that one-eyed youth's chest.

No one dared question where that anger or anonymous feeling of the king's youngest son came from, they just admired with surprised eyes and a few whispers. — It didn't matter to Aemond. In fact, it never even bothered him.

The only thing he really cared about, and for a few moments, was when your name was uttered from the mouths of servants and a few informants who kept their jobs while whispering. — It was like a wake-up call for Aemond. Like a dog's ears when an unhappy noise sounded all around.

But, during those sweltering years, the young prince recognized and devised a sneaky and dangerous way to see his beloved niece. — A way that, even he himself was aware of and knowledge he could miss more than his other eye.

Aemond had no visual knowledge of Dragonstone, he never even had an opportunity to witness the dragons' location. However, he had a literary knowledge of the place. — Using the old library, which was abandoned by most of his family, Aemond began to read all the books that contained information about the isolated island.

Each page, each writing made with embers and black pigment ink, the one-eyed man read and admired the facts that his ancestors and distant relatives brought him. — Aemond didn't care to miss a word that time.

The idea of invading, discreetly and boldly, the region that was dominated by his sister and, perhaps with little chance of success, Aemond planned to consider the action. Being the rider of the biggest dragon that this miserable world had ever seen was a great and superior advantage, but at the same time it could be a disadvantage. — The gods agreed with the thought.

The focus of that bold prince's mind was only for you. There was nothing else in the moment, in the second and world, that could remove your image from Aemond's closed mind. — Even if that certain invasion went wrong, he would be satisfied to know that he would die when he was ready to see you again.

Well, he would die for you and you for him.

That night, which by some mixed and intrusive ears from the vicinity of the red keep; they said the moon was brighter than usual and the wind was fighting with itself. — It seemed like a kind of warning that was ignored by most.

The cover made of pure leather, unlike the dark color palette Aemond usually uses, was a brownish color; like the rebellious earth that was trampled by the black boots of the one-eyed youth. — Aemond's steps were wild, he was desperate to meet his dragon and, like a good mother's son, he prayed to the gods that everything that had been planned would work out.

Unlike the other dragons, aka those of his brothers, who were sheltered and protected in the dragon pit, Vhagar was accommodated at the back of the fortress. Not just the fact that her size bothered half that space, but Aemond cared and cared for his dragon enough to want to keep her close enough. — And no one would dare to scold or tell him to move it.

The huge, intimidating dragon rested, its scaly, age-wrinkled wings spread out close together on the ground. — Taking up most of it. — Aemond, her young rider, didn't need to warn her that he was coming or even call Vhagar's attention; for with just his typical scent, the dragon sensed his presence.

Lifting his head, which carries with it a smoke of sand, Vhagar follows the short and fast walk that her rider takes to her.

"īlon emagon nykeā dīnagon naejot jikagon, hāedar." (We have a place to go, girl.) — He uttered with a whisper, even though there was no one, not a soul, near that region.

The old dragon didn't restrain himself from making any expressions or even a questioning noise at her rider's strange action, just assented by moving enough for Aemond to get onto her rough, scaly back. — During the movement of Vhagar's heavy body, some fine and coarse grains of white sand were scattered on the Targaryen's cloak.

With his hands trapped around the thick and strong ropes of the dragon's cell, Aemond had everything to fly to the isolated region where his beloved niece was sheltered. — The feeling of butterflies in his stomach agonized the boy again but this time it was because he had in mind that he would hear your voice and see you.

Aemond could finally find his peace again. After so many years, years with the taste of hell, the anguish and bitter pain of missing each other would end.

"Sōvegon, Vhagar." (Fly, Vhagar.) — An order with a heightened tone of certainty and confidence was declared to the dragon. Aemond took a deep breath, inhaling the salty smell of the sea and reassured himself that he would soon be inhaling the natural scent of your body.

Vhagar roared, that frightening noise could have woken up anyone who was close to the region where the dragon was accommodated before, as a way of agreeing with the one-eyed request. — She would never disagree with her rider's request.

The night was colder than usual for you. The waves were crashing so rough and hard against each other, it looked like they were in some kind of fight; wanting to distance but it was impossible. — Like your family at times, you thought

"Family". Funny how those rebellious waves reminded him of the rebellious rifts that had run between your family and your grandfather's family, or as he was mediocrely known, King Viserys. — And there was a certain person among those waves who always captivated your attention and ever since your passion.

Your uncle. Your goddamn uncle and your goddamn love.

Even with so many intrigues, differences and bitterness among your families; you and Aemond never let each other be shaken or even extinguished the flaming flame of dragon passion that existed in you two. — You were living proof of a dragon's true flame.

Perhaps, thinking about a person you hadn't seen for so long was a foolish and painful action. It was painful indeed, but when Aemond dominated your thoughts, your mind, it made your body so warm and reassuring. — That damned man was your anchor, your passion.

Your skin tingled, calling your attention and making you distance yourself from the thoughts that, little by little, were dominated by the image of Aemond. — But, that shiver was not caused by the freezing and strong breeze of the winds coming from the sea; there was only one culprit and you knew who it was.

Closing the window and heading for your beautifully crafted and sewn blankets sounded like a good idea and highly recommended. — The thought of getting a possible disease due to coldness was not so pleasant and would scare your mother. - But, an image, somewhat peculiar and dark, caught the attention of your eyes far back and among the clouds.

Flying among the dark sky, which belonged to the night, along with some accumulated and loose clouds; it could only be a destined dragon, aimless and didn't know which region it was heading towards. — Or, some intruder, perhaps?

A thousand questions and concerns ran through your head, and they all scared you somehow.

The dragon's image was slowly approaching and soon, you recognized that creature, destined for the Targaryens and sharing the same blood and life force. — The greenish and heavy scales, together with the wrinkled wings and of a surreal size that this unfortunate world could admire and judge, flew to a point of Dragonstone.

Vhagar wasn't just a creature that carried on her back the title and recognition of being the greatest dragon in the world at that time; she was aware of the entire cycle of conquest of your ancestors and distant relatives. — She was one of the prides of the dragon's house.

However, it wasn't just that dragon that acclaimed, called your attention; wisps of the purest color of white were appearing in accordance with the movement of the wind and the swiftness of Vhagar's flight. — It was him.

"Aemond…" — You whispered incredulously and not wanting to believe what was possibly happening. A part of you feared, did not accept that your uncle, hated and received with so much bitterness by your parents and brothers, was risking himself for you.

He was risking himself to see you. All the pain, lack of body heat and suffering, which were accumulated during all the years of isolation that your family agreed to do, made him reach that point.

May the good gods be on your side, you mentally wished.

Leaning against the huge window, the icy feel of the rocks that complimented that opening overwhelmed her bare feet. — You didn't even think about putting something on, an incompetent but desperate action. — When finally crossing the ends of your long white nightgown they got wet but that didn't make you lose your focus.

Your chambers were one of the few that had a space, like a small worthless balcony, but that gave a small path to some mountains that were around the castle. It was a bit risky, and you never dared use it for anything useful or escape anything, but everything had its first time and that was it.

The path was going to be long, and you knew you needed to be quick and agile; then, you saw a stone block, big enough for you to use as a support and climb to the small wall that opened to the gigantic field with mountains of different sizes. — It felt like the good gods were on your side and doing everything for you to finally meet your lover.

Your long-awaited lover.

The pure, fresh and rough feel of the greenish grass, but with the darkness of the night leaving it with a stronger, darker look and pigment, it invaded the soles of her feet. It was kind of agonizing, you never had the opportunity to let loose in the middle of the grass, so it was kind of a new thing at the time. — It tasted like freedom but that must have been influenced by Aemond's appearance.

Returning to your focus, trying not to get distracted, you were nervous, anxious and a little afraid of what was to come; for the first time, you were feeling mixed feelings. — Your eyes traveled through the dark skies trying to spot the dragon and its rider, and praying that they had already landed on the ground and not drawing attention or any alert around the castle.

And there it was in its complex size along with the details of green and black tones, Vhagar could take over the entire tip of the isolated island and she would take comfort in the region. — The young rider, who was wearing a garment made entirely of the purest leather and very well sewn, wanted to get out of the saddle as quickly as possible.

You ran, holding a small part of your dress, which was probably dirty from the grass. Your heart was racing, it felt like at any moment it would leap out of your mouth and your teeth were dragging, uncontrollably biting your soft lips. — A metallic aftertaste was already starting to invade your palate.

Vhagar let out a snarl, which sounded like just a thick, rough timber from her throat, she had it in her mind where she was. — The gods reminded her of some situations that she, along with her previous riders, got involved and were part of several pages of the conquests and battles of the Targaryens.

The wind was getting stronger and your heart was beating faster than normal and abnormal; in the eyes of other people it was a worrying thing, it could cause a brief death, but you didn't care about that. — You didn't care at all.

He was there. After so many years, so many lonely and bitter moons; a perverse and cruel isolation for your heart. You were forced to agree and be taken to that isolated island, which included a castle, and go through these times alone and without the comfort, warmth and love of your dear uncle. — Who with obvious reasons was hated with every thread of blood by your parents.

Aemond was back for you.

With only a small distance from the dragon, enough for it to notice your presence, you couldn't move; not even to interrupt the drastic movements that the dress proposed because of the wind. — Your body did not mentally recognize your orders to move. — But, your eyes roamed over the huge old dragon that stood before you. Vhagar looked more tired but she had no desire or desire to end her battle, her life. Her tired and intimidating eyes admired you.

"kiip kesīr se ubeī ñuha udrāzma, vhagar." (Keep here and obey my command, Vhagar.) — That voice echoed in your ears, causing the sound of crashing waves to be muted around him. Aemond's voice was so different, of course because of his growth and, mainly, maturity. — Everything about Aemond had changed except the love he felt for you.

The dragon obeyed the order and to signal she understood, Vhagar let out a low growl; if you could consider that as low.

You watched, but the gods agree you were admiring, every move Aemond made to remove himself from his dragon's leather saddle. It didn't take that long after all; he was used to it by now, but for you it took forever. — You were desperate, hungry and yearning for that man's touch. The touch you've waited so long for.

The pure leather boots touched the ground, the sound of grass being trampled reached your ears. With small steps, the one-eyed prince, covered with his cape but it was possible to identify the black dress, also made of leather, through a small breach. — Aemond was in front of you.

His eye patch caught your attention but not in a bad or perverse way but charmingly. — That piece that protected the absence of his eye was mesmerizing.

"issa jorrāelagon." (My dear.) — Those were the first words that were uttered from the eldest's slender and sharp lips; the very words you've been waiting all this hellish time to hear again. — Every time, every morning and night, Aemond made a point of calling you that.

A raw and, at the same time, delicate mixture of feelings was dominating your control, dominating you. Your vision was starting to get blurry, on account of the tears that threatened to fall down your brave face. — The gods weren't deceiving you, he really was there.

After tasting for so many years the taste of isolation, the true taste of hell after being separated from your lover; finally, you have achieved peace. — Your divine peace that you expected so much. — You lost count how many times you cried mercilessly begging for the young man's touch, attention and affection.

"Aemond." — Somehow you couldn't form a simple sentence, or put mediocre words together; it was impossible for you. The only thing on your mind was Aemond and nothing else.

However, your body responded with strength and short and anxious steps were forwarded towards the one-eyed prince. Your feet once again felt the living, damp grass and the feeling of cold dominated that region of your body once again that night. — Watching your approach carefully, Aemond lowered the hood of his cloak. It was no longer useful to use that piece of clothing, it was already considered useless by the prince.

When you got close to Aemond, with only a miserable little distance making you feel the elder's quick and restless breathing, you didn't lose a second to admire him. — His serious face, there were small and weak scars and some cuts in the region and you were sure you would question him about; then, you directed your hand towards the left side of his face.

A caress, an affection so simple in the eyes of certain people but for Aemond it was as if an angel could be touching him and making everything around him disappear. — And you were his angel. — Aemond rested his gloved hand on top of your and stroked it as a way of reciprocating.

"I missed you so much." — The first formed and conscious words you managed to direct to your uncle. Your eyes, which had previously been roaming over the prince's cold face, were now admiring his only existing eye and Aemond was focused on any sound that came out of your mouth, he was aware of any movement you made. — "I missed you so much, Aemond."

In a quick moment, in the blink of an eye, Aemond brought his lips together with yours. — The softness and a typical sweet taste invaded a part of the one-eyed man's palate and the only culprit of that was you, and he felt he was in a place created by the good gods; it felt like the taste of paradise. — Aemond's thin, sharp lips were battling your but in the end they managed to come together like a dance step.

The kiss was pure desire and passion. — The desire that was guarded with seven keys and covered with dragon flames. — Aemond's tongue was determined to fight for space, fearing dominance, but your tongue was also with the same plans.

It was like a dance. — A dance of dragons. — Two dragons hungry for desire, to feel each other and are finally getting what they craved and needed most in that miserable life.

The taste of Aemond's lips was a passionate, mesmerizing acid to taste. You could spend hours and hours enjoying your lover's kiss and never, under any circumstances, get sick or tired. — You were obsessed, and wanting to demand more and more; such a needy thought.

Aemond's hand, which had previously been supporting hers, went to the back of your neck; intensifying the kiss even more. You couldn't stop the shiver and he modestly felt it along with the tremor in your body. A smile, a little thin and malicious, crossed Aemond's mouth during the kiss. — He knew right away how needy you were.

Suddenly you forgot about everything around you. — Your parents, your brothers possibly falling asleep, maybe there were guards roaming the region, everything; nothing else interested you but Aemond's warmth, touch and presence.

When you felt the beginning of shortness of breath, your lips distanced from Aemond's, and it left a feeling of emptiness in you at that moment. — A feeling of abandonment. — Looking down at the young man's thin mouth, you realize how red and irresistible it was but, in fact, you needed to control yourself.

"I missed you too, my sweet niece." — Aemond whispered, still feeling the feel of your lips against his. He was drunk on you and wanted to go deeper into that sea with you. — "And i came back for you and i don't intend to let them separate you from me again." — He wasn't lying or trying to play with you; so you wouldn't feel worry or fear of him slipping out of your sight again. Aemond would never commit such a painful act to you.

They managed to separate you from Aemond, they committed one of the worst acts even the gods could witness. — When trying to separate or burn a dragon's flame, they would have the conscience that they would have return and revenge.

But, the good gods already had a hellish vision of what could happen; they were dragons fighting among themselves. — The same blood, the same will to win and conquer, and the same fire and no one could interfere with it, only themselves.

"I will officially make you mine in front of them and by their hands, my love." — The one-eyed man pressed your forehead against his. — "bisa iksos daor sepār nykeā kivio, yn nykeā bêesîd uati." (This is not just a promise, but a blessed oath.)

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #game of thrones

[bitter69uk]

Candid shot of impossibly glamorous soul diva Tina Turner by Gary Lee Boas, 1975.

#tina turner #soul diva #rhythm and blues #soul queen #bold soul sister #gary lee boas #paparazzo #lobotomy room #candid photography #fan culture #starstruck photos from a fan #ike and tina turner #anna mae bullock

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Imagine if Eri Reader met Unicorns (But they’re known for being incredibly dangerous and impossible to tame, as they don’t even obey the highest of ranked Gods because of their greedy and selfish nature) and yet Y/N isn’t in any kind of danger as they’re just nuzzling her and calmly eating the apples she’s feeding them (Until Buddha comes to the conclusion that the flock of Unicorns might think Reader is one of their own because of her horn and her pure soul)

As Unicorns while impossible to tame and are very dangerous, they’ll never harm those with pure souls (As they’ll protect them from evil and guide them to safety)

They all start to panic when they figure out the Flock of Unicorns basically adopted Y/N as one of their own as they’re trying to take her with them (Who’s ready to fist fight some Unicorns to get their ‘Baby Girl/Sister’ back? Other’s thought it hilarious that Unicorns believe Y/N’s one of them only to panic when the Flock is trying to take off with her on their backs’ and who’s screaming in horror that Y/N is being kidnapped and yelling ‘Not my BABY!’) I had WAAY too much fun with this

-It had been a nice day, not too hot, the sun was shining, flowers were blooming, it was a perfect day for a picnic and your family wanted to take you out after you beamed so brightly when Adam asked if you wanted to go on a picnic.

-You were in Lu Bu’s arms, hugging him as you looked around in awe, seeing the large meadow and all the trees and flowers, feeling the warm sunshine on your cheeks.

-There were blankets everywhere, as everyone had been split into groups, so everyone could have ample space, and you were the only one allowed to go to the different groups, spending time with each of them.

-It was fun to run around, rolling in the grass, getting a little dirty, it was like you were a normal kid again.

-You were throwing a ball with Loki, Apollo, Hermes, Goll, and Kojiro when Loki threw it a little too hard, sending it over your head and you smiled, being the closest, “I’ll get it!”

-They watched as you went into the bushed, waiting for you to return, but you did not and instantly they were rushing over, calling out your name, sounding the alarm.

-Despite being very protected, there were still some gods and humans who had been bold enough to try to come and steal you away, to force you to use your ability for their own gains, and when you didn’t come back, they feared the worse!

-The area was filled with your family calling out your name, rushing after you, worried about you before they all came to a skidding halt, eyes going wide.

-Before them, in a smaller meadow was you and you were being nuzzled softly by a small herd of unicorns, your hands reaching up to pet them gently.

-Your family was stunned, as unicorns never approached others willingly- only if they deemed them pure of heart, otherwise they were fierce and hostile to all others.

-To see you being treated so gently by such dangerous creatures was unnerving, as they didn’t want you to get hurt.

-Hercules hesitated as he kneeled, trying to not seem like a threat, and whispered loudly, “Y/N!” You turned, hearing the whisper and while you smiled, the unicorns’ heads all snapped to look at large group in unison- seeing the intruders.

-Your family froze, not wanting them to take off running and hurt you, and seeing them making no other moments, a few of the unicorns turned their attention back to you.

-One of the females was nuzzling against your own horn and Jack pondered out loud, “Do you think they see Y/N as a unicorn as well- due to her having a horn as well?”

-Hades nodded, trying to figure out what to do, “It is possible, but I can’t say for sure.”

-The biggest of the herd, the leader, bent his neck down to you, nuzzling softly against your cheek, making you giggle lightly before you patted his nose, “Bye-bye unicorns- I’m going home now.”

-You turned, picking up the ball that was by your feet and went to head back to your family when you felt a tug on the back of your shirt.

-You turned, seeing the herd leader holding onto you, keeping you from going to your family as you tilted your head, confused, “Huh? What’s wrong?”

-Another stepped in front of you, blocking your path as they tried to herd you away from the gods and humans, seeing you as one of their own, a baby that didn’t know better.

-You started to panic, not wanting to go away from them, “Big brothers? Papa? Mama?”

-The herd leader picked you up, making you cry out in surprise before it placed you on the back of another adult, much to everyone’s surprise.

-They then took off running.

-MY BABY!!! Immediately charging after the herd, trying to keep them in sight as he shouted, “Hold on tight Y/N! We’re coming!!” He had no idea this was going to happen when he found you with the unicorns. He had to get you back and quick! He kept chasing until you were able to grab a low hanging branch, being swept off the back of the unicorn before he quickly had you in his arms, hugging you close. The unicorns stared at him, as if to say, ‘watch your back’, but he didn’t care, you were safe back with them.

            -Hercules, Adam, Ares, Apollo, Loki, Zeus, Raiden, Shiva, Buddha, Nikola, and Qin Shi Huang

-Oh lord- he couldn’t help but face palm as half of the group gave chase, watching them chase the unicorns into the bushes, leaving with you. He knew it was pointless to give chase to a unicorn on their turf, but there was no ignoring that you had been kidnapped by surprisingly dangerous creatures. While not a threat to you, they weren’t able to care for you, and the unicorns seemed intent on keeping you away from your family. He started upstream, to meet up with the chasing group, unaware that the unicorns had split off, to confuse the chasers, before the one carrying you put you down somewhere safe, to hide you. He was surprised when you walked out of the bushes, trying to get back but you were lost. He smiled when you saw him, running towards you and he kneeled so you could leap up into his arms, hugging him close before he stood, “Let’s go home.” You nodded, smiling at him.

            -Lu Bu, Thor, Kojiro, Poseidon, Jack, Hades, Beelzebub, Leonidas, Hermes, and Odin

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror heracles #ror adam #ror ares #ror apollo #ror loki #ror zeus #ror raiden #ror shiva #ror buddha #ror nikola tesla #ror qin shi huang #ror lu bu #ror thor #ror kojiro sasaki #ror poseidon #ror jack the ripper #ror hades #ror beelzebub #ror leonidas #ror hermes #ror odin

[readychilledwine]

Flight Patterns pt 4

Summary- After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.

Warnings- character injury, miscommunication, mutual pinning

A/N- I had originally planned on this ending at a different point, but I liked how where it ends now flows into what is going to happen in the next chapter. If you all remember my poll from earlier, you may know where this is going. You aren't getting smut, yet, but you will get some romance, and some dragon time, in the next chapter.

Series Masterlist

Aerilyn needed this to stop being the norm.

In the mornings, she would eat breakfast with her favorite trio of winged idiots, train, then find herself changed into a pretty dress and curled up in Rhysand's office while he worked.

It never took long, and it appeared today it wouldn't either. Rhys would come to the couch sitting close to her and using the glass coffee table as a desk instead of the large rich mahogany one. Sometimes it turned into him laying with her between his legs, reclined back deep into a report while she either read or slept. Sometimes soft brushes of skin would haunt her in her sleep until the next day when the cycle began again.

The relationship, if she felt bold enough to call it that, between them had started to head into a direction Aerilyn knew she didn't understand. When Rhys touched her, if felt like she was alive for the first time. Even just his hand brushing her thigh as he'd reach for the expensive wine she'd begun to associate with the smell of him had her soul dancing.

And, Aerilyn, despise all the languages she spoke, all the places she had traveled, her knowledge of beasts thought to be extinct, and her, unknown to her, powers did not understand what was happening.

She didn't understand the sudden shift in her heart rate when she'd see him in the mornings.

She didn't understand the sudden need to be around him, the desire to be close to him.

She didn't understand a thing about love.

Nor how to act on those feelings.

Rhysand was rarely accused of being a patient male. He'd heard no from his father many times, but rarely from a female. To his credit, though, he was trying.

Trying to be calm when her scent hit him.

Trying to be calm when she'd fall asleep between his legs, head resting in his chest as if his heartbeat was her personal lullaby.

Trying to be calm when they'd find their faces inches apart when they would tease each other and playfully argue.

Rhys dodged a well timed punch from Azriel. The three brothers were enjoying a mid-afternoon training session. All three of them had grown tired of reports, of being trapped inside, and were all eager to blow off steam.

They smiled at each other, a knowing look shared. “Get your head back into training, lover boy,” Azriel circled him. “Thinking about Ari a bit too much lately.”

Rhysand's eyes glanced to where she currently sat, a book in her hands that she had not been able to put down the past day or so. Her long dark hair had been fishtailed to the side with a few loose curls falling and framing her face. She was wearing one of his sweaters and black leggings, her cheeks and the tip of her nose slightly pinked from the cold.

Rhys was so distracted by his mate, by her beauty, that he hadn't noticed Azriel going for a leg sweep that caught him in his knees. He felt his back hit the ground, and then his breath leaving his lungs. Cassian's booming laugh could be heard the second he realized what had happened. Aerilyn had stood, concern flooding down the bond, as Azriel celebrated.

Rhys blinked a few times, pulling himself up and glaring as Azriel flipped him off, a rare large smile on his face.

Rhys was not a patient male, but Gods he was trying. He just wished trying didn't come at the expense of his pride.

Aerilyn closed her eyes, relaxing into Rhysand as he flew her to the dragon pit. He had started taking her once a week. Enjoying the 15 minutes he had her in his arms and her enjoying them silently as well.

He wanted to negotiate snowfall in Velaris this year with Enlil and Eirwen. He had purchased Eirwen two beautiful spools of a soft fabric with hand sewn in bead and gem work. Aerilyn had warned him Hestia may have become jealous, so the High Lord had also purchased Hestia, a large raw cut diamond. For Enlil, he had Azriel travel to Day, asking Helion for help collecting one of the sharp strange flora that bloomed there. He had put it in a pot that was enchanted to ensure it always had what it needed. “Do you think they'll give us extra snow?” He tried to hide a smile at the idea. “Just a few inches, of course. It will help with our yearly snowball fight.”

Aerilyn popped her eyes open, admiring his full-blown smile as a nervous butterfly feeling set in her stomach. “Snowball fight?”

Rhys smiled into her hair. “Every year, Cassian, Azriel, and I have a snowball fight for solstice. Azriel has won the past several years, and I'm thinking extra snow may throw him off.” He looked down at her as he landed. “Thoughts?”

She knew he already knew her thoughts and feelings on it. He was in her head constantly. On accident, on purpose, for fun. It should have annoyed her, but his occasional sass filled responses to her thoughts were a constant comfort as she continued to adapt to being around civilization.

“I do not believe additional snow is going to affect Azriel's ability to throw a snowball. It may, however, increase the amount he throws.” Rhysand's smile dropped, having not thought about that aspect, but it was too late to turn back. The noise of content growls, and chirps could be heard as Aerilyn entered the pit.

He'd never get over seeing her like this. The overwhelming sense of peace that'd wash over her when she'd place her head on Enlil snout. The way the two of them glowed with power and love.

He moved away, giving them their private greeting as he looked to Eirwen. The beautiful dragoness had herself curled into several spools of fabric his own mother would have fought for while she was alive. They were heavy cottons. soft, silky, warm, and clearly from somewhere overseas based on the deep royal purple and red hues. She opened an ice-like eye at him, huffing slightly as he opened his pocket world and pulled out those glittering fabrics. Enlil and Aerilyn had moved, his mate riding on her mounts claw instead of walking.

“You have her attention.” And Aerilyn had his. His mind went completely blank as he watched her being so carefree, so untouched by fear that she wasn't even holding on as Enlil walked with her towards the opening of the pit.

She was a goddess. Long dark hair, her skin faintly glowing.

Aerilyn shifted under his gaze, “Are you okay?”

Clearing his throat, Rhys went back to the task at hand. Snowfall, snowball fight. He kept repeating to himself over and over again. Snowfall, snowball fight. He watched as Eirwen gently put a claw out, and Aerilyn moved towards them. She laid the fabric on the claw, allowing the dragoness to look it over. “It's hand-made,” Rhys began explaining. “Each diamond and crystal is stitched one by one. It reminded us of snowfall, of you.” Rhys paused as Enlil huffed, and two dragons began to exchange looks and noises.

Rhys moved to Aerilyn as they watched the two have their discussion. “She's beautiful,” the High Lord observed. “I understand now why so many of her kind were hunting for their scales.” Aerilyn hummed. The sad noise hitting Rhysand square in his chest. “She is safe her-” he paused a brow, raising as Enlil gently put his head to Eirwen, the two drakes both shutting their eyes. “They're-”

“Mates,” Aerilyn finished. “That's why she will never have another rider. He wouldn't let a fae or human near her.” She paused head cocking To the side and eyes going white. “They will consider allowing Velaris more snowfall this year. He appreciates your efforts.”

She came back to him seconds later after a small smile. “I believe today is Achlys turn to play. Is it not?”

Rhys had already begun moving towards the large male dragon. “It is. What do they eat, by the way?”

Aerilyn just smirked, fingers mindlessly lacing into Rhysand's as he pulled her towards the glistening scales and starlit cove Achlys had made for himself. “Whatever they want.”

The table was quiet as Rhys read the report Azriel had given him over and over again.

Aerilyn had felt the flash of anger coming down the bond and was giving him the simple comfort of her hand in his. She was ignoring the occasional squeeze. The soft grip and release was almost rhythmic following his eyes as he read the same paragraph over and over.

“We can't delay it,” Azriel’s voice was soft and cold. “If the rumors are true, and they appear to be, we need to be there when she arrives.”

Cassian almost growled. “There's no damn reason for her to be going there, and going without approaching the High Lord or General of the army is an insult.”

Rhys nodded, turning to Aerilyn, “Will you be okay here, alone, for a few days?”

Aerilyn made a face, eyes wide. “Mor and Amren?”

“Will be coming with. If you would like to go to Windhaven, that is fine. I just figured-”

Cassian interrupted, voice hard and cold. “We are not taking my baby sister to Windhaven. We just saved her from those woods. We aren't dragging her back there because Amarantha can not follow court protocols.”

Aerilyn watched as Mor and Amren came in, taking their seats. Mor tossed a letter to Rhysand. It had a seal Aerilyn knew from her travels and a soft sprawling writing that indicated it was from a female. “Oh, I can already tell you know who that's from,” Mor's tone was far from the playful manner Aerilyn had grown used to. Her face showed no sign of amusement as she poured herself a heavy glass of wine. “She's up to something. She has to be.”

Amren nodded, taking the seat next to Azriel. “We should probably discuss this without certain ears here.”

Aerilyn felt the gaze shift to her. She stood, taking her wine, and left the room, allowing hushed whispers to restart. She had no clue who Amarantha was, no clue why she was here or why the Inner Circle was worried about her, but she knew one thing.

That string that connected her to Rhysand had gone cold.

Whatever Amarantha was, whatever she was here to do, is what Rhys was trying to protect her from.

And all knowing they were keeping this from Aerilyn did was cause her to feel both left out and very, very angry.

She entered her room, shutting the door softly and locking it. Walking out to the balcony, she whistled and waited.

The seal was from Hybern.

This Amarantha was heading to Illyria.

Aerilyn had spent years hiding in the Illyrian woods, unseen, untouched, unknown other than to small children who would whisper legends of a ghost haunting the trees. It would not be hard for her to find an out of place Hybern female in the Steppes.

Enlil hovered at the balcony, getting as close as he could, and Aerilyn jumped. “Home,” she patted him softly. “Take me home.”

It had taken much longer than Rhysand had hoped for the Inner Circle to reach a plan on what to do when Amarantha arrived.

The Hybern general had planned on visiting Illyria first, hoping to meet with the camp leaders alone, then coming to the Moonstone Palace and the Court of Nightmares.

No matter how loudly Cassian protested, how much anger he put into his debate, the decision had been unanimous:

Aerilyn would come to the camps and to the Palace.

They all agreed, the young female needed to know who they were dealing with, what she looked like, and be able to make her own plan of attack and safety for herself and her drakes with that information.

Rhys knocked on her door. “Aerilyn Darling, can I come in?”

Silence.

Dead silence.

He knocked again, “Ari, I know you're upset. Let me explain,” he opened the door, hoping to force her to listen.

Only the room was empty and dark.

Her scent barely lingered, meaning she hadn't been in there for a while. Panic hit him quickly when he saw the open balcony door. He took a few quick breaths, hoping she had just gone on a quick flight and would return home.

He went back downstairs, holding eye contact with Azriel, who had put on his leathers and weapons. “Aerilyn-”

“Is back in Illyria. She just got back to the cave we found her at. I've had shadows watching in case this happened. I'm going now.”

Rhys shook his head. “I'll go,” he moved to the doorway. “The plan stays the same. Be in Illyria tomorrow. Amren will stay and handle the court.”

Azriel and Cassian nodded.

“I'll take her to Mom's cabin,” the statement was directed to Cassian. “She will be safe.”

Rhys winnowed directly to the cave, finding Aerilyn sitting on the ground, her mount long gone. “Darling, why did you leave?” Her eyes went to him wide with shock as she poked the fire she had made with a stick. He motioned around the cave where shadows were dancing and very alive. “Azriel had his shadows watching in case you ran.”

She glared at the shadow that approached and touched her nose before running back to its sibling. “Tell your dad he's a fucking busy body.”

Rhys sat across from her, taking in the cave where a single thrown together bed sat. It had a single fur blanket on top of fabrics laid on the rocks for cushion and no pillow. It reminded him of a war tent. Ready to be moved and sacrificed at just the right time. “No wonder you had trouble sleeping in your bed for a week,” he continued looking around, his heart shattering as he realized the conditions his mate survived under. “What did you do for food?” He almost didn't want to know the answer, avoiding her eye as she sighed and stretched.

“Stole from the Camps in the dead of night or hunt and gather,” her voice was distant. “Did someone follow you?”

Rhys rose a brow, looking towards where Aerilyn was. “No, darling. I came alone.”

She shook her head, eyes staying locked on the entrance before grabbing a throwing knife that was next to her. “No, dearest, you didn't.” Aerilyn moved, blocking Rhys as the snap of a bow was heard.

She flinched as she was hit, blinking slowly to process what was happening. An arrow had embedded itself into her right shoulder, and Rhys instantly reached for her, winnowing her to his mother's cabin right as another hit her in the leg.

Aerilyn felt like her skin was on fire, ash and faebane beginning to seep into her bloodstream as she laid panting. Wherever Rhys had taken her was warm and felt safe. She used the last of her magic to push that down the bond to Enlil, begging him to remain in the dragon pit.

Rhys scrambled, calling for Azriel and Cassian as he gathered supplies to heal his mate. He could feel her drift off in the bond, her body falling into a deep state of sleep as he began removing the arrows. To his shock, they weren't Illyrian. He shook the gut feeling, pushing it down as far as he could while he held a cloth to the bleeding wound.

Azriel appeared with Cassian seconds later. “What the fuck happened?”

Rhys shook his head. Focusing on his mate. “I was followed. She figured it out before I did somehow. She blocked me.” The last part had Rhys knitting his brow, confusion setting down deep as he pulled the second arrow out, trying to instantly erase the sounds of her pain from his mind.

Azriel took the arrow, looking it over. “I'll go look into it.”

Cassian kneeled down next to his sister, stroking her sweat soaked hair back. “I'm coming with you.” He took a heavy breath, eyes locked on Aerilyn's unconscious form. “You better ask your questions quickly when we find them, Az. Because I'm going to kill them.”

Rhys didn't even respond. Aerilyn's shields had dropped completely. She was unknowingly sending everything down the bond to him. Her confusion, her fear, her pain. All of it began to lace together with her thoughts.

Thoughts that soon were turning into a dream.

A dream that had Rhysand promising to himself he would make it come true.

He would just have to bring himself to be the one to break their current never-ending cycle of tension, and Rhys never had an issue being the one to make the first move.

Taglist : @kemillyfreitas @jesssicaparlon @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @sidthedollface2 @mis-lil-red @lovemesomevesey @coisas-da-dani

(Currently working on the few struck out usernames. I have you on my list, but for some reason tumblr won't let me tag you)

#acotar #acotar x oc #rhysand x oc #rhys fic #rhysand fic #rhys x oc #flightpatterns #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar

[vedicastrology-thestarsguideyou]

Planets and their significations :

🌞 Sun - Surya represents the Atman , the soul , inner man , self confidence, fame , father ,creativity , charm , intiative , shine , personality.

🌝Moon - Chandra represents the Manas , the mind , the astral body , emotions ,feelings , thought process , mother , a collection of past lives experiences , built up traits , happiness, unconscious mind .

🌿Mercury - Buddha represents the thinking process , intelligence communication skills , analytical accounting skills , business mindedness , trade , friends , siblings , duality .

⭐Jupiter - Brihaspati represents wisdom, luck , kindness ,generosity , religious tendencies , ideologies , worship , Fortune , husband , children , Guru , external forms of worship.

💪 Mars - Mangal represents courage , action, will power, physical strength, assertiveness , boldness , warrior , champion spirit , fire , brothers , boyfriends .

💗 Venus - Shukra represents Maya , illusion of the created universe. Beauty , pleasure, affection, clothes , class , perfumes , self love , money , love relationships , art , music , literature, love , devotion , sisters , sensuality , balance , harmony, wife addictions too.

🪐Saturn - Shani represents karma , payback , strictness, authority, discipline , restrictions , coldness , fear, duty , responsibility, a sense of maturity , cronos , time , lessons , boss, growing up , old age , old people.

☘️ North Node & South node : Rahu & ketu represent the psychic inner pull and push between desires and apathy of the soul. This inner war happens on a deep psychological unconscious level which subtly yet deeply influences the personality.

#astrology #vedicwisdom #vedic horoscope #vedic astrology #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #counseling #sun signs #astrology community #astro notes #astrology blog #vedic #astro observations #planets #life #astrology observations #western astrology #healing

[snaililita]

💫How Much I Adore You💫

Lyney x Shy!Loving!Reader

Tooth-Rotting Fluff💫

Female!Reader, can make a version with swapped pronouns if requested💫💫💫

Reader is a simp ngl, but this is very indulgent and I'm a simp soooo-

Best read in the voice of a sassy Victorian woman💫💫💫

Lyney is such a handsome young man you think. His hair styled just so, his posture always so chipper. His eyes such a beautiful lavender and sparkle with a sort of mischievous, but not ill-intented shimmer. His smile always quirked up to one side in a goofy smirk that always made your heart squeeze whenever you saw it.

Of course being the shy person you were, you could never tell him. So instead you simply resort to always silently examining his every move. Every small thing he did made your soul happy, the more mundane the more you felt yourself smile. Maybe he was simply offering you his umbrella or asking if you would like to stop by for tea- even just rambling to you about his sister.

Sure the flashy things he does make you grin, but not as much as the small things. To you, it meant he was comfortable around you. Comfortable being just Lyney. And being able to see all sides of Lyney, including stage Lyney and brother Lyney and just Lyney- it meant the world to you. You love all of Lyney, every version of him there is. Yes, even fatuus Lyney. Not one Lyney can escape your affections.

If only you weren't so shy, if only you could tell him just how much you adore him. Even if he didn't reciprocate your affections, you would be over the moon if he knew that you would stay with him no matter what and that he doesn't have to worry at all around you. That you would do anything for him, no matter how daunting the task in question may be. You wish he would let you into his family, regardless of the manner. To be as open with you as he is his sister and brother, to be able to confide in you his troubles.

So, as you can imagine, you both felt incredibly sad and ecstatic when Lyney came to you after his trial for comfort. He was exhausted and gloomy because of the Traveller's sour (and hypocritical) attitude towards his association with the Fatui. He requested for you to visit for dinner that night, and you agreed of course. Now, you were sitting in his room on his bed with him in your arms.

You dare not ask why he cries now, for you're fairly sure it does not need any explanation. You would cry too if you were in his situation but you could never be bold enough to ask for comfort from someone, no no you would simply cry alone. You admire Lyney's bravery. Of course, he isn't really being brave since you aren't someone who is to judge him and he knows this.

He lays his head in your shoulder as he cries so quietly, you simply rub his back and hug him gently seeing as you are rather awkward with words. Though you did take great care in reminding him that even now that you know of his being a fatui, it changes nothing between you two. That you still trust him the same. This seemed to calm some of his troubles.

He nuzzles himself into your petite embrace, grabbing one of his many blankets and pulling it over the two of you. You find yourself feeling more and more weary, but not negatively, by the moment. Are you to sleep with him? In his bed? Overnight? My goodness you surely were rattled. He seemed to notice this and sighed in exasperation.

He began to stroke your hair gently, or as gently as he could with trembling hands from his previous crying fit. You soon accepted this and found yourself smiling.

(("Thank you, cherie. If only you knew how much I adore you."))

He pecks you on the cheek and runs his fingers through your hair,

(("Perhaps I could enlighten you sometime."))

#adelita writes #lyney x reader #genshin lyney #lyney #soft lyney #lyney fluff

[holybibly]

Divine Rosa  ❢ot8xreader❣ 

❣ Pairing: yandere!otx8 x reader

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

❣ Word Count: 10.1k

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

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

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

❣ Chapter 1: Memento Mori ❣

Have you ever thought about death?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dead mourn more than the living.

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

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

Have you noticed how many bouquets are brought to cemeteries?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s true—life after death exists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I knew death before I even knew it.

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

This was the third time I'd known death.

And then Mina happened.

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

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

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

Spiders, darkness, roses…

The list goes on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am now the sole owner of all this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You agree too quickly, Soo.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This Friday, if you’re free?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe the whole world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unreal in my reality.

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

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

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

I was absolutely sure they wouldn’t get along.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right, if you say so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or it wasn’t about desserts.

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

Seduce me. Surprise me. Love me!

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

The voice of Soomin ripped me out of my mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you all right? You look pale.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their name is the fallen. Unforgiven. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate roses.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I took a deep, slow breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soomin shook her head negatively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ew, Soomin." She just laughed back.

#ateez smut #ateez yandere #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #yandere ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines

[swannieluv]

｡ﾟ･The Bold Mendacity - 2. To trust and to care

✦⸼࣪⸳ Getting used to new things can be har sometimes, and letting go of the past is even worse. Maybe with time, those bruises will heal.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐆.𝐈 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 (𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 1,4k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: Mentions of child abuse (?) and death.

✦⸼࣪⸳𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨: ♡

✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: Writing little Clorinde is fun! Hope you all enjoy this chapter. ^^

Bruises are difficult to heal. Even more if they weren't physical wounds. That was something you learned during the three years since waking up in this new body.

You have been trying to reason why you were reincarnated. Weren't you unworthy of divine intervention? That was one of the reasons that led to your execution after all.

Looking through the calendars around the temple you were living in, the dates all happened to be indicating five years after when you were accused.

What happened in those two years your soul was bodiless? This question has also been plaguing your thoughts since when you first opened your eyes.

“Nothing…” You whispered to yourself while closing an old book. The temple was quiet during the afternoon. Most people come to pray in the morning, so it was easy to sneak in and out of the library.

Most of the books in this place were dedicated to the Hydro Archon, which was already discouraging. Even so, you pushed yourself to try to find any kind of answer through those thick pages.

“What did that person mean with those words?”

The face of that stranger gave you a familiar feeling. Yet you couldn't remember anything except for a blur, as if they intended to not reveal themselves to you.

“Too many questions and no answers.” You sighed and put the book on the shelf again. For the rest you were still illiterate, since you decided to just start acting like a child your age would. Not wanting to attract any attention to yourself.

Maybe if you didn't, the chance of being able to leave the temple at the age of 18 and live a peaceful life away from Fontaine would increase significantly. Somewhere no one would be able to find you.

Mondstadt or Liyue. Those are the best places for someone who wants a quiet lifetime.

After removing some dust from your clothes, you decided to leave the library. It would bring worse consequences to you if anyone found you there. Maybe you would get grounded by Sister Dora or receive a scolding from the elder librarian you were hiding from.

You were hoping for sister Dora to not notice your little escape. She had always been worried about you running around the buildings, like any sane person would when a three-year-old wants to run away like this.

'I wonder why she treats me so well. It's kind of suspicious. We're not even blood related, and there are some orphanages nearby.' You got on your tiptoes to reach the door's handle. Being able to walk around was relieving, but at the same time tiring with those small legs.

Making your way out of the room, your footsteps were the only thing audible through the marble corridor. Yet, a feeling of uneasiness made you walk a bit faster.

'I feel like there's someone following me…' Your legs were accelerating with each passing second.

“Where do you think you're going?”

You froze up, stopping on your tracks and turning around. The now ten-year-old Clorinde had her arms crossed over her chest. She was in a casual outfit, something you rarely saw her use.

'Crap–'

Taking a deep breath, now was time to use the tactics you had been training for so long.

“I wanted to play!” You put on a cheerful face and started running to her. Your little arms embraced her legs as you trapped her in a hug.

“You have been missing for five hours. Sister Dora has been worried sick.” Clorinde sighed and patted your hair.

“Really?” You blinked twice. Looking through a window, you swore it had been only an hour.

'I lost track of time again–'

Your thinking was interrupted when Clorinde suddenly took you from the ground and started carrying you like a bag of potatoes. The sudden action made your face go pale.

“Clorinde!” You kicked your feet to try to get out of her grasp, but stopped when you felt yourself losing balance. It was obvious that she didn't have any kind of training on how to carry a child, since she was a child herself.

“You should stop sneaking out like this, okay?” She continued walking through the corridors. “If you don’t run away from Sister Dora this week, I'll give you my desserts.”

Your eyes sparkled at the thought. Eating more pudding after dinner would be so good and…

'I can't be so childish like that!'

It seemed like being reborn really messed up with your mind. You were reliving everything you already passed through again. Your mind was in conflict, since you were a child but at the same time mentally a teenager.

“I… I won't go… but you have to give me your dessert.” Your face flushed with embarrassment, you really let yourself be deceived by sweets.

“Good.”

Clorinde knew that being trapped inside for a long time was tiring after some point. And as a young child, you must be feeling rather trapped.

“I'll take you to the south garden, most people have gone home already.” She quickened her steps “But you can't tell anyone, okay?”

You lifted your hand and gave her a thumbs up.

She took you through places you had never seen in all those three years. Passing through small gardens with statues, most of them from the Hydro Archon.

One of those areas was a beautiful camp. In the center of it was a statue of the seven, a beautiful representation of the goddess of justice.

That was when you noticed the size of this place. You didn't think it was as giant as the one you had been brought up as the Child of the Prophecy, but it sure was big.

“We're here.”

She put you on the ground. In front of you, a flower camp with hundreds of different plants. The wind blew some petals in your direction.

That was a sight you never happened to see in your past life. Most flowers in your room were artificial ones, made so they wouldn't die. They were fake.

“Oh.”

“Nanny, can I go see the flowers with you?” A young past you in your memories was clinging to their nanny’s dress. “I have never seen them.”

“Miss [Past Name], you can't go out. Those are orders.”

The woman took your hands out of your dress and kneeled to be your height. It was your past nanny, the only one to defend you. Yet she died because of it.

“Not even once?”

You pleaded with puppy eyes. But you knew she was most likely going to say that the outside was dangerous for someone so important like you.

“I'm sorry, but no. You can't go outside.”

“Why? The other children go, I see from the window.” She patted your head

“Because you're the child loved by our goddess.”

How strange, you didn't remember it before. It was like this memory just popped out from nowhere in your head.

“–me]...”

“[Name]!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Clorinde. She had a worried face, which this time wasn't hidden behind her usual cold demeanor.

“Are you okay?” She crouched beside you and put her hand on your shoulder. 'She's doing that again…'

Clorinde put a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I am…”

You tried to put on a smile for her. It took a while for her to fall for it, but she did.

Both of you sat on the ground, in a place which wouldn't damage the flowers.

Then you realized what you had done, you had deceived her with your smile. Even if innocently, you still did it. Maybe they weren't that wrong in executing you and you were really fooling people, maybe it was–

“Here.”

A flower crown made of lumidouce bells was placed over your head. The one who made it had a relaxed smile on her face. Her eyes were never full of life like other children's. Even so, they were warm when staring at you.

You adjusted it. The crown was slightly bigger than your head, making it slip sometimes.

'She's nice to me. But how long will things last like this?' You looked at the flower crown you were making. One of the flowers had thorns on it and you hadn't even noticed.

Maybe, one day, Clorinde would hurt you just like those thorns just did. And it was something you should start preparing yourself for.

Because kindness never comes for free.

#fontaine #genshin fontaine #genshin impact #genshin platonic #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #angst #furina #furina x reader #neuvillette #clorinde x reader #clorinde #tw mentions of abuse #The Bold Mendacity