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heaven-s-black-box · 4 months

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Home- Zhongli x wife!Reader

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Recovery date: January 17th, 2024

Description: May I request smut with Zhongli and his wife having reunion sex after not seeing each other for a long time?

Includes- plot, half dragon form Zhongli, slight angst(?), oral (f receiving)

Notes: This entry was recovered in collaboration with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contribution. Thank you to my friend who beta read this.

Word count: 2 763

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Zhongli’s retirement was supposed to mean more time for his wife.

Married for centuries, and yet he felt they only saw each other as frequently as a mortal couple did in their entire lifetime. He’d promised her his undivided love and protection, and back in the Guili plains that had been possible– when it hadn’t just been him watching over the mortals– but here in Liyue it was… difficult. He was loath to admit it, but he was not holding up his end of the contract.

Even after the amendment they’d made following the archon war, that Liyue would come before her, it seemed to take up all his time. Yet she never complained, treating the bustling harbor like it was their child.

His retirement was as if their child had grown, leaving the house to find its place in the world. So how had spending time together gotten harder?

“I’m home, my dearest,” he called into the quiet house, taking care to keep his voice down.

One week, three days, eight hours, forty-two minutes and three seconds.

He’d been gone for a full week, nearly week and a half, and not even on official business, but rather as a favor to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s director because she was too busy to go to Inazuma.Y/n hadn’t been able to join him due to a mild illness at the time of his departure that would have made the boat ride miserable, and so had begun their longest separation since the cataclysm.

A warm scent reached his nose, and he looked up from taking his shoes off to find his wife standing before the entrance in an apron. There was a bandage tied around one of her fingers, and rice flour dusted across the apron.

“I made bamboo shoot soup.”

Her smile was contagious, and he quickly found himself donning a similar expression as she took his hand and led him to the table. A bottle of dandelion wine was set in the center next to a vase of glaze lilies and qingxins. The smell he’d noticed earlier was clearly coming from the pot on the stove that Y/n quickly returned to, serving up two bowls and setting them on the table.

“This is… an interesting array of decor,” Zhongli hummed once they finally sat down.

“Venti came by,” Y/n laughed, “just after you left, actually, he helped me around the house so that I could rest.” Zhongli nodded, begrudgingly thinking up a way to thank the drunken archon. “The flowers were a gift from Ganyu, I think she meant for me to put them in separate vases but…” She shrugged.

Zhongli finished his bite of bamboo, and looked up to find his wife awkwardly pushing her food around her bowl. She raised a piece of meat to her lips, but before she could take a bite, Zhongli urged her to finish her sentence.

“But?”

Y/n rarely clammed up like this, tensing up over something so suddenly. She ignored him for a moment, chewing slowly to buy herself more time. Zhongli set his chopsticks down and laced his hands in front of himself, indicating he had no intent of returning to dinner until she answered him.

“But, they kept me company.”

Y/n rolled her shoulders out and reached for her glass of wine. She frowned upon taking a sip, deciding that maybe dandelion wine and bamboo shoot soup weren’t the best pair, but continued on in order to avoid looking at her husband. There was no doubt in her mind that he was carefully considering her words, and she was not looking forward to-

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “No, no, don’t apologize.”

“Why?” Zhongli reached across the table and took her hands in his, running his thumb over her wedding ring. “It’s the very least I should do. I promised you my undivided love and protection, and I failed. I amended my promise, the vow I made to you centuries ago, and I have still– somehow– made you feel so alone that you would find comfort in the memories of our friends.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

A long moment of silence cut through the house as Y/n lowered her gaze to their hands– hers cradled gently in his. Slowly, she removed Zhongli’s wedding ring, then his gloves, and replaced the ring before bringing his hands to her lips. She placed a kiss on either knuckle and then sighed, resting her forehead against them.

“Your retirement was supposed to be for us,” she whispered, “and I understand that this consultancy with Wangsheng funeral parlor is your way of living a mortal life, but even mortals make better time for their loved ones than you. We have forever, but forever will find its end before you know it.”

Zhongli couldn’t see her face, it was buried in his hands, but he could feel her heavy breathing as she stifled growing sobs.

“Look at me,” he whispered, removing his hands from her grasp to cup her face. Y/n’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears that stabbed at his heart. “I will speak with director Hu Tao and take some time off, and I’ll work on finding a balance. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Y/n turned her face in his hands and kissed his palms.

“Don’t thank me, it’s what I should have done in the first place.”

Hesitantly, Y/n pulled Zhongli’s hands from her face and clasped them in front of her chest– pressing them over her heart.

“Dinner’s gone cold.”

“It has.”

“Why don’t we move on to the rest of the evening's plans?”

Zhongli chuckles, “You had more planned?”

“But of course, you must have been so lonely without me, I need to make up for that.”

Y/n stood up, pulling her husband with her. Before she could pull him any further though, he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist. She looked up at him with furrowed brows and a small pout.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Her pout dissipated into a small smile as she ran her hands up his chest and played with the collar of his jacket.

“I would tell you if I wasn’t. That was a term in our contract,” she whispered, barely a breath away from his lips before she pulled him in for a kiss.

It was gentle as Y/n ran her hands up around Zhongli’s neck, tugging on his ponytail and earning a short laugh before their lips connected again. Zhongli meanwhile slid his hands just barely under the slit in her qipao, earning a shudder as his claws gently raked over the thin under dress. He moved his hands lower, squeezing at the backs of her thighs.

“Up.”

Y/n jumped up, her skirt bunching up under Zhongli’s hands, wrapping her legs around his waist and giggling– face buried in his neck– as he finally carried her to their bedroom. She loosened his tie, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and littering his neck with butterfly kisses. The door to their room opened, and she took the moment of brief distraction to bite down on the nape of his neck. Zhongli’s grip on her thighs tightened, and he let out a low groan while Y/n snickered softly.

“My bad.”

Zhongli nudged her head up and buried his face in her neck before biting her nape in return, earning a squeal and the squeeze of her thighs. In squeezing her thighs together around his waist, Y/n accidentally pulled herself closer and ground against Zhongli.

Zhongli groaned at the friction and whispered, “My bad,” in return, before dropping her onto the bed.

Without prompting, Y/n unfastened the buttons of her qipao while Zhongli shrugged off his jacket and vest, and finished unbuttoning his shirt. He looked up just in time to find his wife kneeling in front of him. She wrapped her arms back around his neck, burring one hand in his hair, and pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was hungrier. It wasn’t meant to reassure either of them, but rather make up for lost time. Both the time lost during his trip, and the time lost as the mortal life had consumed him.

Zhongli gently pushed Y/n back by the hips, forcing her to awkwardly shuffle around to untuck her dress from beneath her. As soon as it was released from beneath her legs, Zhongli grabbed the hem and pulled it off– leaving her in only her underwear. He gently ran his fingers along the deep mark he’d left on her nape earlier, a fond smile forming on his lips.

Rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed the open sides of Zhongli’s shirt to pull him down with her when she fell backwards. The sudden shift in perspective startled him, and he was barely able to brace himself on his forearms to avoid crushing his wife.

“Hi, handsome.”

“Hello, my dearest.”

This time Zhongli was the first to lean in, placing a quick peck on her nose and then capturing her lips. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and slid her hand up to cup his face, while he moved one hand up to cup hers.

It honestly felt like they could stay like that forever, just holding one another, but Zhongli suddenly pulled away and trailed kisses down Y/n chest. He left gentle nips at random intervals, earning content sighs from his wife. She gently scratched at his scalp, tugging on occasion to make him groan.

There was something humorous in the way they’d both assumed they would jump each other's bones as soon as Zhongli had stepped in the door, and yet as time went on neither of them was sure they’d even get around to having sex tonight.

When Zhongli finally reached the hem of Y/n’s underwear and took a deep inhale, making her whine in embarrassment. Even after being married for centuries some of his more draconic habits, like his obsession with her scent, were embarrassing.

“My favorite scent,” he said, voice a low rumble as he teased her.

“Zhongli,” Y/n whined.

He slowly pulled her underwear down, letting his claws scrap against her skin. She kicked them off and then put her legs up on his shoulders before tapping the top of his head.

“Where’s my lovely husband?” She cooed, shuddering when he laughed– his breath hitting her clit.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He ducked down, kissing at her inner thighs as his horns and tail slowly took form. Y/n whined as he avoided giving her any stimulation, gripping at his horns and tugging only to earn herself a gentle smack from his tail.

“Ah!”

“Be patient,” Zhongli sighed.

“I have been plenty patient, love.”

His forked tongue flicked out against her clit, making her yelp and squeeze her thighs against his head. Her grip on his horns tightened and she used them to try and pull him closer to her cunt. This time he ran his tongue up to her clit and then back down and into her. Y/n moaned, rocking her hips into his face. Zhongli laughed, digging his claws into her hips, uncaring if he broke skin.

“More,” Y/n moaned, wiggling her hips uselessly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there.”

“But-ah!”

Zhongli sucked gently at her clit, then gently raked his claws against her thigh to rub quick circles against her clit. The sudden change in stimulation caught her off guard and her thighs began to crush his head as she clawed helplessly.

The knot in her stomach tightened quickly, making her hips jerk erratically against his face and hand. Her breathing was heavy as choked sounds escaped her lips.

“Cumming, cumming,” she began to mumble, legs twitching. “Fuck!” She yelped as it finally snapped.

Zhongli lapped up her release– his tail flicking about happily behind him– gripping her tightly as she squirmed against him from over stimulation.

“I thought you’d been patient?”

“I was,” Y/n panted, sitting up and starting to undo Zhongli’s pants, “until this morning.”

“I was looking forward to letting you fall apart on my fingers,” he pouted playfully.

“And I, want to be fucked.”

Laughing, Zhongli got off the bed to kick his pants off while Y/n moved further up onto the bed. Zhongli rejoined, settling between her legs and pulling her towards him. His tail looped around her waist, tightening slightly so she couldn’t escape.

“No, no,” Y/n laughed, finally catching her breath. She placed a hand on his chest and the other urging his tail to loosen its hold, guiding him to lay back. “My turn.”

She settled herself above him, resting her weight forward on his chest, and slowly sunk down onto his second dick. His primary dick brushed against her clit as she lowered herself, earning a quiet gasp and making her clench around him. It stung slightly, but she took her time until he was buried inside her completely. With a shaky breath she gave a slow roll of her hips, earning a groan from her husband.

Zhongli placed his hands on her hips, rubbing gentle arcs against her skin with his thumbs, then he ran his hands up and down her sides in a soothing motion as she adjusted to his size. His primary dick rested against his abdomen, and Y/n wrapped her hand around it making him hiss. She ran her hand along it teasingly a few times, laughing at the glare he leveled her with and the way his tail tightened around her waist, before moving her hand back to his chest for support.

Y/n rolled her hips again, taking a deep breath as her clit once again brushed his primary dick, before slowly lifting herself up and sinking back down with a moan. She leaned down to kiss her husband, making him groan as his primary dick was pressed between them. Slowly, she found a rhythm to bounce on, moaning as her clit rubbed against his primary dick that was pressed between them. Zhongli’s claws dug into her hips as he moaned, matching her movements with his thrusts.

The pleasure quickly began to tire Y/n out, leaving her panting and slowing down as her legs began to shake from the building tension in her gut.

“Come now, is that all you’ve got?” Zhongli teased as she began slowing down, breath heavy from exertion.

“If you weren’t so insistent on topping, maybe I’d-ah! Have better stamina.”

Tightening his grip on her hips and his tail back around her waist, he flipped her around and slammed back into her. She yelped at the sudden movement, and he moaned as his primary dick rubbed against Y/n’s abdomen with every thrust. In this position, his dick didn’t rub against her clit as regularly leaving her on edge.

“You make an excellent point, however…” he gave another hard thrust, his sharp teeth being revealed as he grinned down at her, “actually I don’t have a point to make.”

Y/n’s hands twisted the sheets as she bounced almost violently with every thrust, crying out in pleasure.

“So-mean.” She whined, and shakily slid one of her hands between them to rub at her clit. “Cumming.”

“Go ahead,” he whispered, leaning down beside her ear. “My dearest wife.”

At the term of endearment, Y/n’s breath hitched.

“Morax, Morax, Morax,” she gasped out as her legs tightened around his waist and her hips jerked against him.

He replaced her hand with his, rubbing her clit to help her ride out her orgasm as she twitched and panted. Meanwhile he pulled out, wrapping his other hand around both his cocks and jacking them off. White painted Y/n abdomen as he finally stopped rubbing her clit.

They stayed there for a moment, panting. Y/n twitched slightly everytime Zhongli accidentally brushed up against her.

“That was… long overdue,” She sighed, groaning as she carefully unhooked her legs from Zhongli’s waist.

Zhongli, in turn, laughed, and grabbed a towel from their bedside drawer to clean her off.

“No, what’s long overdue is the bath we’re about to take.”

“Ah, that is true,” Y/n laughed, taking Zhongli’s right hand and raising it to her lips so that she could kiss his wedding ring.

As she looked up at him through her lashes, placing gentle kisses along his knuckles and ring, Zhongli had a feeling he knew how his vacation was going to go.

#locked entries #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #x reader #female reader #zhongli smut #genshin impact smut #smutshot #smut

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tumbleweed-writes · 2 months

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Death and the Lady: Chibs Telford X Reader Chapter Two

Chapter one found HERE

CHAPTER TWO: Infatuation

Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home was located in one of the more affluent neighborhoods of Charming, California. Although, this was more due to it being one of the older homes in town than a sign of the actual wealth of the owners of the property.

A golden placard was proudly displayed by the front door declaring that the property had first opened its doors all the way back in 1910, although Y/N’s father would claim that their ancestors had been undertakers for far longer than that.

It had been something he was proud of; the history of their family and their profession. It was a respected profession that had been viewed as more of a service by her father. Lloyd Y/L/N’s father had been an undertaker and his father before that and so on. Generations of sons in Y/N’s family had maintained the family business. It was their legacy. It was a family tradition and tradition was to be upheld according to Y/N’s father.

Now that there were no available sons to take the reins as the town funeral director, Y/N had been left to carry on the family tradition. She was the last undertaker in the Y/L/N line.

Her father had often boasted about the family history. Photos of Y/N’s ancestors lined the small office that was now her own. They were black and white photos featuring her grandfathers before her alongside undertaker carriages and finally old hearses; the family home and business displayed in the background. As soon as photography had become readily available her ancestors had paid a pretty penny to capture the family legacy. There was even a disturbingly large leather bound photo album featuring some memento mori photography mostly featuring Y/N’s ancestors as well as some of the ancestors of many of Charming’s residents.

This photo album, of course, was not something that was proudly displayed like the other family photos though. She was quite certain most of Charming’s residents would be displeased to know her family had long held quite a few photographs of their deceased ancestors after they were post mortem.

The family business had begun during the civil war by one of Y/N’s northern ancestors who took full advantage of the booming business of embalming as dead soldiers needed to be preserved to be sent back home during the war.

After the war had ended and the popularity of embalming had spread her ancestors had kept up the family business.

Y/N’s ancestors had traveled out to California and settled in Charming soon after the town began to develop enough of a population to require the services of an undertaker. They’d remained ever since burying generations of Charming residents. Most residents of Charming had passed through the home more than once. It was a place more than one resident of Charming would find themselves eventually at the end of life.

Although the owners of the old home were far from being as wealthy as their neighbors, the appearance of the home hid this fact well.

It was an impressive home and might even be considered beautiful if one didn’t realize just what kind of establishment it was. The lot was quite large compared to the few homes that stood alongside it. It had seemed that not many people had been fond of developing homes alongside Charming’s oldest funeral home.

The home was a massive white Victorian style structure featuring a long red brick driveway. The windows of the home were a fine looking stained glass featuring a rose-design that had been placed way back when the home was originally built. Lovely red and pink rose bushes and large old oak and maple trees lined the property.

Given that the funeral home served not only as a place of business but a family home, there had even been a glass and iron greenhouse constructed behind the property. The structure that had been built by Y/N’s great great grandmother and was still tended to this day by Y/N herself.

A small pet cemetery sat near the outskirts of the property, another feature that had been added by one of Y/N’s great grandmothers though the small cemetery held mostly family pets; cats, one bloodhound, a few parakeets, even a few goldfish. Y/N could admit that more than one goldfish had been her own childhood pets. When Y/N was a child she’d even been told rumors that there was a horse buried somewhere in the home’s old pet cemetery but she’d not thought that it was likely given her family tended to document every single death both human and pet, and no mention of a horse had ever been recorded.

Needless to say, generations of Y/N’s family had resided in the home and it held a history far beyond just its purpose to the community. It was an eccentric and morbid history, but it was Y/N’s history all the same.

When she’d been a teenager, she had resented the odd macabre history, but as an adult who had entered the family business she found herself holding the same pride for it her father had always held.

The legacy was uncomfortable to most, but it was hers.

Due to the more affluent area and the fine looking home, Chibs Telford couldn’t help but to feel out of place as Jax and he pulled Darby’s stolen SUV discreetly into the driveway.

Chibs hated to admit that he felt an odd mixture of both awe and fear as he stared up at the massive home, a chill running down his spine as he spotted the wooden sign displayed in the yard that proudly stated Y/L/N and Sons Funeral Home established 1910.

He suddenly remembered Juice’s words just earlier in the day; Spooky.

He tried to pretend that he didn’t feel a ball of dread developing in his gut as he followed Jax and Juice up the long driveway towards the front door.

He stared at the two panel stained glass front door, his palms growing damp as Jax reached out to ring the doorbell.

The pleasant chime that sounded out didn’t fit what laid inside, in Chibs’ opinion.

Chibs hated to admit that he felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of facing the fascinating young woman he’d met just earlier that day and would be meeting once again very soon.

He’d be lying if he tried to pretend that his brain hadn’t been hyperfocused on her all morning.

She truly did puzzle him. He knew it had to do with more than the fact that Y/N was a gorgeous woman with an odd career. It was the implication of her past and her brazenness when it had come to her establishing that she would be willing to do favors for the SAMCRO in the future for payment of course. He’d been stunned by how willingly she’d been to mouth off to Jax Teller and how comfortable she’d seemed to insist that she would now be the Sons line of contact for future favors regarding anything they may have previously used Skeeter for.

She was ballsy, he had to admit it. It was an admirable trait. Boldness was a sexy trait in a lass, or so Chibs had always believed.

As hard as Chibs tried to deny it, Y/N was a puzzle he wanted desperately to solve. There was something about her that both excited him and confused the hell out of him.

It was a feeling he’d not had in a long while; being fascinated by a woman. His interactions with women for a little over a decade now had consisted of a quick fuck from the croweaters that hung around both SAMBEL and SAMCRO.

A woman had not interested him beyond sex since his estranged wife Fiona.

It was a realization that made him feel unsteady and uncertain. He felt so unlike himself and it was terrifying.

As hard as he wanted to deny it he was interested in Y/N as more than just a fun romp in his bed.

He tried to shove thoughts of Y/N in his bed as the front door opened the very woman he’d been entranced with appearing.

She was no longer dressed in the casual blue jeans, tank top, and converse she’d worn in the crematorium earlier.

She wore a black short sleeved sheath dress that could only be described as professional though it did fit against her form well. He suddenly realized her curves were just as lovely as her legs and he couldn’t help but to find it a shame that such a lovely pair of legs were hidden under a pair of black sheer tights. She wore black mary jane style heels on her feet that were just tall enough to look fashionable but not so unreasonable that she didn’t look professional. Her hair had been pulled back into a french twist and Chibs spotted a pair of small pearl studs in her ears. A small golden cross hung from a thin chain around her neck and it glimmered against the otherwise dark fabric.

She was wearing makeup this time around though it was soft and subdued making her look elegant.

Chibs took notice of her hands. Her short nails were painted a soft pink and her hands looked so delicate. He felt a mixture of emotions wash over him at the sight of such delicate looking hands both picturing them caressing his skin but all too aware that they also often touched the dead. He felt both lust and dread at the thought. The thought made him feel dizzy and he had to briefly wonder if there was something quite wrong with him given that the mix of dread and lust seemed more Tig or Happy the Tacoma Killer territory.

Chibs shoved back the thought trying to pretend that he wasn’t studying her so closely.

If Y/N had noticed that she had an admirer in the Scotsman, she gave no indication she rolling her eyes, a soft huff leaving her. “You’re almost ten minutes late.”

Jax gave her an all too flirty smile quick to reply. “Sorry, you know me. Promptness was never one of my virtues.”

She gave no flirty smile back instead letting out another soft huff. “Hurry up and come in. I don’t need the neighbors gawking.”

Chibs felt a slight frown cross his features both at Jax’s flirty nature and the indication that there were any neighbors close enough to gawk.

The area did seem quite private after all.

He followed his brothers inside Y/N shutting the door behind them.

Chibs studied the large entryway feeling even more out of place. Dark wood floors were covered with fine looking red persian rugs that Chibs was certain must be antiques. He found himself fearing his boots weren’t quite clean enough to cross such fine rugs.

He took notice of a china cabinet against the wall, the antique furniture containing no dishes but a small oil painting featuring lambs, a display of options for funeral pamphlets, and a fake display of garden roses that looked eerily real.

An equally old looking coat rack and soft pink chaise lounge sat near the cabinet. He took notice of the iron light fixtures and tiffany lamps on the ceiling.

It seemed as though the home was filled with antiques that Chibs had to wonder if they were family heirlooms. This was a family business and it didn’t seem like mass produced items that she’d just acquired to make the home seem sophisticated.

He felt his feet move as he followed his brothers further into the home. He spotted more oil paintings, mostly of generic images; flower fields and hints of religious iconography, more lambs and doves.

He widened his eyes as he spotted an oil painting showing the very home they stood in now. Y/N spoke over her shoulder apparently taking notice of his gaze landing upon it. “An addition added by some grandfather who died long before I was a thought. It’s not the only family painting. The more personal ones are upstairs. My ancestors were obsessed…I am unsure if the portraits were narcissism or just male pride….although I might argue that there is little difference between the two.”

The last comment went over Juice’s head but it did put a small smirk on Jax’s lips and did make Chibs twist his lips somewhat amused that she was willing to make a dig towards the male species in front of men who personified masculinity.

He was once again reminded that she was courageous. Not many people would make such a dig in front of bikers who prided themselves in being macho.

“Upstairs?” Juice dared to ask gazing up a grand looking wooden L-shaped stair case it was clear that he felt just as out of place in the home as Chibs though his feelings were more fear filled than his brother’s.

“Yes, living quarters are upstairs…no access to the public of course.” Y/N remarked, shrugging her shoulders.

“You live here?” Juice spat out his eyes growing wide as saucers, his stomach turning at the thought.

Chibs spotted a hint of a smirk on Y/N’s lips; she clearly accustomed to this reaction and obviously enjoying shocking Juice. “I was born and raised here.”

She cleared her throat dread filling her belly despite her cooler demeanor. She’d debated her choice to go along with this as the morning had worn on.

She’d debated giving Jax Teller the money back and backing out of this. She had a distinct feeling there was no backing out of this now. SAMCRO might not take too kindly to her chickening out now even with her history with them.

As terrible as she felt, the greed within her heart told her that the envelope of cash that now resided upstairs hidden in a jewelry box in her bedroom was far too precious to part with.

She knew that she’d dug her grave by agreeing to any of this, and now she had no choice but to lie in it.

She ignored the voice that told her that her father would be ashamed. She felt a bitter voice remark that she was in this debt due to him after all. Working with SAMCRO was a means to an end. The money would do her favors and keep the family business her father so prided himself in up and running.

She spoke again, finding it easier to speak about the home than focus on her guilt and fear. “The home has been operational since 1910, though the family has been in the business far longer than that. I’m sure my family has buried members of every resident in Charming’s family. My family has resided here since the home was built. A lot of the town grew around us. Things changed as time wore on but we remained. We’ve always tended to the dead of Charming. Pretty sure a few of my ancestors were born and died upstairs. My father and mother both died in this home and their funerals were held here.”

Juice cleared his throat muttering something similar to the observation he’d made back at the cemetery this morning. “Spooky.”

Chibs found himself hanging on to her words, the statements fascinating him all the more. There was something about her that seemed far more worldly and elegant than the conversations he usually held with the croweaters back at SAMCRO’s clubhouse.

Sure the choice in conversation was morbid, but the calm and collected way she spoke about it showed a level of comfort with the macabre that spiked Chibs’ curiosity.

Juice’s eyes grew all the wider as they rounded the corner passing what was clearly a few viewing rooms, a room featuring casket and urn displays, a chapel-like space, and a lobby area meant for the bereaved to gather.

They passed her closed office door going down a long hallway that ended with a closed door. The sign outside the door featured a sign with bold letters that stated : ONLY AUTHORIZED PERSONAL PAST THIS POINT.

Y/N spoke over her shoulder a sigh leaving her. “The embalming room is in the basement, body storage is beside it.”

Juice spoke a choked gasp leaving him. “We’re going there?”

She gazed over her shoulder, raising a well manicured brow. “You guys wanted a body…that’s where it is.”

They followed her downstairs, Chibs unable to stop himself from asking. “How do you get the bodies up and down the stairs?”

“The casket lift…it’s essentially an elevator for the dead.” She remarked not bothering to gaze back at him clearly accustomed to the question.

Chibs furrowed his brow both fascinated and disturbed by the concept.

Y/N felt her stomach turn trying to ignore the golden placard her father had installed by the closed door to the embalming room. It clearly stated: REMEMBER, Behind these doors lies the most sacred room in this building. Here loved ones come to be prepared for their final rest. Those who work behind these doors must uphold a commitment to the morals of our profession and a promise to serve the bereaved. Conduct yourself in an appropriate manner consistent with those in this profession.

She felt that sense of horror bubble up deep within her knowing what she was about to do was far from appropriate and respectful for the sacred profession her father was so proud of.

She spoke as she noticed the men beside her also took notice of the placard. “My father and his rules. To be honest he mostly put this sign up as a reminder to one of his old employees…Richardson had a mouth that would make a saint blush. My father wasn’t fond of the F-bombs while embalming.”

She opened the door, the Sons following along behind her the energy in the air tense.

Chibs studied the room unsure of what he’d been expecting. The area seemed so sanitary. The floors were a shiny clean dark tile. Cabinets lined the walls containing a variety of chemicals: formaldehyde, sodium nitrate, methanol, and a few other complicated sounding chemicals that were unfamiliar to the Scotsman.

He suddenly realized that Y/N must be quite intelligent to know just what to do with all these chemicals.

He felt his stomach turn as he eyed two stark white embalming tables both thankfully vacant though he spotted an intense looking machine beside them, it hitting him that it was most likely used to pump the deceased full of embalming fluid and other preservative agents.

He spotted upper cabinets with clear glass doors that were filled with more tools of the trade. He was certain there was more to be seen in a few of the closed drawers in the cabinets.

There was a sink beside one of these cabinets and a few anatomy posters on the wall. He spotted a small radio sitting in the corner of the room as well as a CD player hinting Y/N must listen to music or talk radio while working.

Another thing caught his eye; a heavy looking case sat open on one of the cabinets filled with what seemed to be makeup as well as a few other small devices.

It wasn’t the makeup nor the tools that caught his attention. It was the stickers. The inside of the case and even the outside were lined with stickers, some cutesy, some downright morbid. There was a peace sign and a cartoony looking strawberry. He also spotted a black sticker featuring a hearse that stated: Last Responder. There was also a sticker featuring a cheerful looking cartoon grim reaper that stated: Spoilers, We All Die. There were a few more that seemed to be from some kind of convention for funeral directors, a concept that struck Chibs as bizarre.

The stickers lining the case made the otherwise sterile and cold room seem less intimidating. He was tempted to walk over to the case and study it closer hoping it might reveal more about the woman who he’d found himself fascinated by, but he remained locked in place sure she wouldn’t be amused by the snooping.

She spoke not paying mind to the discomfort of her guests. She almost felt comforted that they felt so out of place. It served them right for what they were making her do. She felt comforted that they were in her space and it gave her at least the appearance of having the upper hand here.

“The body is in storage. Give me a moment.”

Chibs shifted in place his brothers and he silent as Y/N disappeared behind a closed door. He was tempted to follow her; perhaps offer his assistance.

He kept locked in place though almost certain she’d turn down his offer. After all, he was sure she must have gotten the body down here all on her own. So, why would she want his help?

Juice mumbled under his breath. “Fucking hate this.”

Jax shook his head, rolling his eyes slightly. “Just chill. We’re going to be out of here before you know it.”

Chibs smirked, unable to stop himself from prodding Juice. “Ya fraid of the dead lad?...Too many zombie movies? Ya fraid of ghosts or somethin?”

Juice groaned, shaking his head. “This place doesn’t give you the creeps?”

“They’re dead. Don’t think they mean any harm. Y/N seems to be alive an’ well” Chibs remarked, shrugging his shoulders though he did feel a small sense of discomfort.

This entire act was quite blasphemous though he had a feeling this feeling had more to do with his Catholic upbringing than any fear of the dead.

The men didn’t have much longer to discuss the general feeling of discomfort in the room and the act they were engaging in as Y/N reappeared rolling a gurney.

Chibs raised an eyebrow impressed she could manage to roll the heavy looking gurney in heels. He had a feeling it wasn’t an unfamiliar task to her.

She spoke, rolling her eyes not above calling out her companions. “Thanks for the help gentlemen. Such a testament to your gender, making the lady do all the lifting.”

Chibs stepped forward first a small smirk on his lips unable to stop the flirty tone from his voice. “Figured ya had it handled lass. Ya seem the type that doesn’ need a man ta handle yer shite.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow uncertain if he was being sarcastic or if this was a genuine compliment.

The feeling it was the latter did strange things to her heart. She pushed the thought from her mind. Now wasn’t the time to let some biker hit on her no matter how charming the accent might be.

She wasn’t the girl who got weak in the knees over a bad boy in a kutte anymore.

She had to admit that the older Scotsman did hold a certain charm. Sure, the scars along his cheeks were disconcerting. She had a feeling that she should fear the person who might have done this to him though instead of him as the victim of what was clearly a past attack. He seemed somewhat unkempt. His shorter hair could use a good comb and maybe a little wash. He seemed older than her; perhaps in his forties at least.

She’d spotted an intense pair of dark eyes under his shades though that she found to be a lovely rich dark brown that made her think of bittersweet chocolate. She did spot clear dimples that were a lovely feature in an otherwise intimidating looking man. She also noticed a pair of plush lips under a neatly trimmed goatee.

He was an attractive man though older and far rougher than most men who she paid much attention to.

She shook the thought from her mind. She was not paying him any attention. She refused to go down that path.

Jax and Juice took notice of the flirtatious tone to Chibs’ voice but neither man paid too much mind to it. Chibs did have a way of talking to most women like they were a lass after his own heart. He was charming when he really wanted to be.

All three men helped Y/N lift the body, thankfully, contained within a body bag up onto a platform that Chibs realized must be that casket lift Y/N had mentioned earlier.

Y/N spoke a sigh leaving her. “I assume you brought a vehicle to transport this to…whatever the hell it is you want with it.”

Chibs smirked thinking of Darby’s stolen SUV as Jax spoke. “Yep darlin’, we got it covered.”

“Aye, won’t need to borrow a hearse.” Chibs added on.

She rolled her eyes fast to respond, treating the sarcasm as a serious remark on purpose. “I have a body transport van for that…the hearse makes the general public a little queasy.”

Chibs smirked again a bit amused by the quick remark. He had to like this girl the longer he spent around her.

It wasn’t until they were back upstairs at Y/N’s home’s back entrance, it being far more reasonable to sneak the body out this way, that she spoke again. “You swear this shit you guys are about to do won’t lead back to me?”

Jax was fast to reply , reaching out to give Y/N’s hand a squeeze. “I promise you.”

Y/N yanked her hand back, rolling her eyes not interested in accepting any comfort from him especially when her bullshit meter was going off. “I am also assuming you using me to gain access to the crematorium at the cemetery later won’t get me in deep shit?”

Chibs spoke before Jax had a chance to attempt to provide reassurance. “I swear on my ma lass.”

He reached out giving her shoulder a squeeze, almost feeling giddy that she didn’t yank from him the way she did from Jax. “Ya got nothin to worry bout. SAMCRO won’t leave a trace ya had anythin to do with this.”

She raised an eyebrow hesitating moving from his grasp, almost finding it strangely reassuring. She pushed the thought from her mind stepping back from his touch, her voice returning to that calm collected tone she’d taken when she’d first let them in her home. “You guys should go. I am expecting patrons very soon. I highly doubt John Meyer would be too amused to have three members of SAMCRO looming about when he comes to pick out a casket for his grandmother’s funeral.”

Chibs smirked, familiar with the older and snobbish man she was mentioning. He was a well known owner of one of Charming’s more upscale restaurants. She was right he might not be amused to have Charming’s criminal element hanging around in such a situation.

As the men walked away Chibs found himself taking what he hoped was a casual glance behind him at Y/N as she shut the door behind them.

He hated to see her disappear from his sight and was surprised to admit he felt almost excited at the thought of seeing her again at the crematorium.

—--------------------------------

Chibs took a hefty swig of his beer as he sat in the passenger's seat by Jax in Darby’s SUV as it sped along the highway.

Jax spoke nodding to the two dead bodies in the back end of the SUV. “These guys fuckin stink. Y/N must have an iron stomach to handle the stench.”

Chibs smirked, taking a drag of his lit cigarette, his heart fluttering at the mention of her name. “Aye, she mus’.”

He stared at the amber liquid in the bottle of beer in his hand, his mind a mess of questions about the funeral director.

He shifted in his seat thinking back to her interactions with Jax. He had mixed feelings about whatever had happened there.

He was surprised by the hint of jealousy in his gut. A bitter voice in the back of his mind couldn’t help but to snark that Jax wasn’t entirely capable of appreciating an elegant woman like Y/N.

It was clear by her reaction to him that perhaps he’d not appreciated her in the past.

Chibs knew he couldn’t just grill the Sons VP on his history with the woman without it being obvious Chibs had taken a liking to her.

He spoke his voice tight, trying to sound casual and not at all prying. “Ya seem to know tha lass well.”

Jax shrugged his shoulders taking a drag off his own cigarette. “Her brother was in my grade growing up. He was a pretty cool guy until the accident.”

Chibs raised an eyebrow parroting the words curiosity in his voice. “Accident?”

He suddenly remembered Clay’s comment about Y/N’s brother being in the county nuthouse.

“Not my story to tell. Let’s just say it was some tragic shit…really almost wrecked that family. Y/N is still living with the aftermath.” Jax remarked, taking another drag from the cigarette.

Chibs shifted in his seat the comment only making the mystery surrounding Y/N only grow murkier.

He spoke, clearing his throat. “Aye Clay mentioned a hospitalization…guess the lass is his only family”

Jax nodded his head, his eyes keeping focused on the road. “Yeah, I think it was just her, him and her dad. Pretty sure her mom died when she was a kid. She never said much about it. Now it’s just her…or it may as well be given her brother.”

Chibs furrowed his brow, unable to deny that his heart ached at the concept of it just being her.

Chibs cleared his throat taking another drag of his cigarette, the words leaving his lips before he could stop them. “She mentioned bein a club hangaround?”

Jax chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, she might of looked like little Miss Prim and Proper today, but she had a wild streak a mile fucking long. At least she did back when she was like nineteen and twenty. She was a lot of fun.”

Chibs furrowed his brow not quite liking the snark in Jax’s voice at the mention of Y/N being so proper. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked the mention of her being fun either or at least the implication behind it.

Chibs spoke, clearing his throat voicing a troubling thought. “Lass was a croweater?”

Jax shook his head a snort leaving him. “Not exactly…like I said about her older brother, not my story to tell. Like I said…she hasn’t always been so classy.”

He spoke again gazing at Chibs, a bit surprised the Scot seemed so interested in Y/N. One might think the Scotsman was a little sweet on her.

“She’s a complicated woman.”

Jax noted that the comment earned a raised eyebrow from Chibs it apparently only deepening his apparent interest in Y/N.

The thought puzzled Jax. Chibs didn’t develop schoolboy crushes. After all Chibs had not shown much interest in women other than getting his dick wet with an available croweater. To see him this interested was a foreign concept.

The man was still married after all, at least legally. His estranged wife had not been stateside in some time and she was tied to the man who had scarred Chibs leaving him for dead and banishing him from the cause.

Needless to say, Chibs had a lot of reasons to keep romance at arm's length.

Jax frowned, having to wonder if perhaps Chibs had hopes of getting his dick wet with Y/N. He shook his head, tempted to tell him Y/N would more than likely rid him of his dick if he pulled it with her.

She might look elegant but she didn’t take any bullshit from what Jax remembered. Time may have passed but Jax was certain Y/N was still as prone to calling a guy on his shit as she had been almost ten years prior.

He bit back the warning, deciding it would be Chibs’ lesson to learn. He smirked, having to wonder if the warning would just present itself as more of a temptation to the older man. Some guys liked the challenge.

He continued to study Chibs, the older man taking another swig of his beer, clearly fighting back the desire to pry further.

It was a strange concept. Chibs had a crush? Or at the very least a clear lust?

Jax shook his head, having to wonder if Chibs had any clue just what he might be signing up for if he was in fact sweet on Charming’s local undertaker.

#chibs telford #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford fanfiction #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #Chibs Telford x reader

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darklinaforever · 4 months

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What we see of Daemon as Father in the show :

- His daughters seem to love him.

- He teaches High Valyrian to Baela. (And no, no father from feudal times would take the trouble to teach his daughter a language himself)

- Baela kisses him.

- Daemon kisses Laena's baby bump.

- Rhaena says Daemon ignores her.

- Laena replies to her daughter that Daemon is doing his best.

- Daemon looks sad and embarrassed between his daughters, not knowing how to console them as they mourn the death of their mother Laena, whose suicide Daemon has just witnessed with their third unborn child.

- Daemon telling Viserys that Pentos is his and his children's (so Baela and Rhaena) home.

- Daemon glancing at his daughters as they enter the great hall at the Velaryons and who are under the supervision of Rhaenys.

- Daemon's daughters present at his wedding to Rhaenyra.

- Daemon having honored Laena's desire for Baela to know Drifmark by accepting Rhaenys' proposal to take her as a ward.

- Maintains correspondence with Baela who seems to divide her time between Drifmark and Dragonstone.

- Daemon obviously kept Rhaena by his side at Dragonstone, and she seems quite close to Rhaenyra.

- Daemon strokes Rhaenyra's baby bump.

- Daemon defends his step-sons against the accusation of bastards and fights alongside Rhaenyra so that Lucerys still inherits Drifmark.

- Daemon caresses Viserys II's head and tries to calm him when he cries.

- Daemon arranged with Rhaenyra a good marriage for their children. (Because yes, there is no way that Rhaenyra wouldn't have told Daemon about her plans so that he would approve them, simply because he is the one who is legally responsible for Baela and Rhaena)

- Daemon happily raises a glass at his daughters' engagement to his step-sons.

- Mourns the death of baby Visenya.

- Look at his daughters at baby Visenya's funeral.

- Defends the fact that Jace is the heir to the Iron Throne.

- Announcing Lucerys' death to Rhaenyra and looking visibly sad about it, even appearing to wipe away a tear as he walks over to Rhaenyra to tell her the news.

+ Bonus : - Baela proudly mentions being a dragon rider like her father, in the deleted scene considered canon by Ryan Condal.

Most people's conclusion (including directors / writers, proof of their enormously biased vision of the character of Daemon in their show and even in relation to Fire and Blood) : Daemon is a horrible father ! The treatment towards his daughters is shameful ! He don't even care about his other children, but his daughters having the worse treatment from his part ! He's the worst father in the series.

Otto, Corlys and Viserys : Are we jokes to you ?

Because what exactly are you blaming him for ?

To apparently have relationship problems with his daughter Rhaena while continuing to take care of her (as shown in episode 8) and worry about her ? (as shown in episode 7 ?)

Of not knowing what to do / how to console his daughters for the death of Laena (as he was able to do with Viserys and Rhaenyra during the series) when he probably took the trouble to go see them and tell them the news, knowing that in addition, he himself is traumatized by having seen Laena commit suicide with their unborn child ?

Not having announced his presence / having been towards his daughters when he arrived with Rhaenyra after the fight incident of children's with Aemond without taking into account the scandal / the rumors that it could have caused for him and Rhaenyra if he had made it known his presence, only noticed by Otto ? (Knowing that once again, if you look closely at Daemon, he took one look and saw that his daughters were with Rhaenys)

Daemon clearly isn't the best dad in the world in HOTD, but he's obviously doing his best, and seems to be a perfectly decent father.

I will add that the little father issues Daemon has in the series are actually non-existent in the book and he is simply a good father. Baela is clearly his favorite girl and a feminine Daemon. No problem to report with Rhaena, logical, since this delusion around not having a dragon is ridiculous. Daemon also didn't have a dragon at Rhaena's age.

#pro daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen #the rogue prince #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #hotd #anti hotd #house of the dragon #anti house of the dragon #fire and blood #grrm #grr martin #george rr martin

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bedlamsbard · 9 months

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Part 2 of the "Hydra took over SHIELD before Steve came out of the ice" concept! This is in the back of my head as one of the concepts that's likely to turn into a full story, but I know better than to make any promises. (Note: I use the 2008 date from the BW deleted scenes for Natasha's defection.)

This sequence immediately follows the previous sequence.

About 5.3K below the break.

*****

Alexander Pierce had come to tell Peggy personally the day after he had forced Nick Fury out of SHIELD. At that point Howard’s son had been dead for six months, killed in an industrial accident that most newspapers had written off as the tragic but natural outcome of Tony Stark’s increasingly erratic behavior. Howard had kept the two halves of his life so separate that Peggy could count on one hand the number of times she had actually met Tony Stark, even considering the years when he had still been in nappies. She hadn’t gone to the elaborate funeral that Obadiah Stane had thrown for his erstwhile employer.

Pierce she had known quite well from his SHIELD days, before he had moved over to the State Department and later to the World Security Council. He had been quiet and apologetic, with barely concealed anger underlying his words and a couple of SHIELD agents posted at the door to keep anyone from overhearing their conversation.

“Nick got away,” he told her after he had given her the Cliff’s Notes of the situation over at SHIELD – much worse than he had given out, Peggy had found out later, since there were still active sieges going on at half a dozen SHIELD stations worldwide even while he had been sitting in her room drinking tea. “We’re doing what we can to find him, but cleaning up SHIELD is going to take priority. Besides, he knows the entire playbook – he wrote the playbook, at least the parts of it that you and Howard Stark didn’t write.”

“You’re absolutely certain?” Peggy had asked. “Turning us against each other is the sort of thing our enemies have tried in the past –”

Pierce had put down his teacup to gesture one-handed at the sling on his left arm. “I got this when he shot me. Personally.” He picked up his teacup again. “I wish I had any doubt at all.”

Peggy nodded slowly. “Will you be all right?”

He smiled a little. “Flesh wound. It will take us months – probably years – to untangle all the damage he and his people have done. We’re not sure yet how deep it goes. I’m sure you can imagine the calls I’m getting right now.”

“Certainly an eventful start to a new administration,” Peggy observed; President Obama had taken office barely a month previously.

Pierce winced. “The White House is responsible for a fair number of those calls.” He glanced over at the door, then said, “I’m going to leave a protective detail here for you. Right now Nick’s acting erratically and there’s a chance that he might come after you. A small chance,” he hastened to assure her, “but a chance nevertheless.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Peggy said.

“You’ll hardly know they’re here,” Pierce said. “Madame Director –”

“It’s been Peggy for years, Alex.”

He smiled again. “Peggy. It’s just until we catch Nick and his people. Better safe than sorry, that’s what you taught me, remember?” He hesitated a little, and Peggy might have passed the better part of her century, but she could still tell when he was acting. Whatever he was going to say next, he had come here expecting to tell her.

“Spit it out,” she instructed him. “It can’t be worse than anything else you’ve just told me.”

Pierce sighed. “Like I said, we’re still digging and will be for a while, but – it looks like Nick might have been involved in the Stark murder. Howard, not Tony, I mean.”

Peggy actually stopped breathing for a moment, then started coughing. Pierce jumped to help her, getting her a glass of water instead of more tea. She waved him off until she had gotten her breath back, then croaked, “You’re sure?”

“No,” Pierce said, watching her. “But it’s looking that way right now. This didn’t start recently and it didn’t start when he became director of SHIELD. He’s been at this a long time. A regular Philby.”

Yes, Peggy had thought later, after Nick Fury had finally gotten in to see her without being shot or arrested. A regular Kim Philby. Only Pierce had been talking about himself, not Nick Fury.

After more than three years she knew her security detail quite well, since Pierce didn’t rotate them. That was probably for Peggy’s benefit more than theirs; the more familiar with them she was the less she would suspect them of anything, like, for instance, being Hydra. She was fairly certain that they were all Hydra; it wasn’t to Nick’s benefit to waste any of his SHIELD loyalists on her, not when every single one of them was needed in the Triskelion or at one of the satellite SHIELD stations.

She waited a full twenty-four hours after Nick had left before she got out her photo albums, trying not think about what he had said in the meantime. There was nothing suspicious about that, she told herself; it was an old woman’s prerogative to dwell on her past if that was what she wanted to do.

There weren’t many photographs from the war – not hers, anyway. She had a few from Bletchley, one from SOE, and a dozen or so from the SSR. None of the SSR photographs in her album had copies in SHIELD’s files or anywhere else; Peggy thought that she was owed the privacy of her own memory, at least for a few more years. After that, it would be up to Sharon to decide what to do with them.

They had all been so young, she thought, turning pages slowly. It had been a lifetime ago, almost three-quarters of a century, and Peggy had buried everyone in those photos except for the ones who had never had graves – and who hadn’t died at all, as it turned out.

Steve’s alive, Peggy told herself, staring at a photograph of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes sharing a bottle of Coke and laughing, both of them looking impossibly young. Nick had told her about Barnes a few years ago and that had been hard enough, even though Peggy had never had much to do with Barnes. Steve’s alive, and Hydra has him. They’ve had him for the last six months.

Peggy wished she didn’t know exactly what Alexander Pierce had done once he had made the decision to use sex with Steve. She had done it herself – sat at her desk with a stack of personnel files, trying to determine which SHIELD agent would have the most appeal for their target. It wasn’t just about looks, though looks helped.

An operator, she thought. Someone physically capable, even if there was no one else who could go toe to toe with Captain America for more than a minute or two. That she would be beautiful went without question. Probably not someone who physically resembled Peggy herself, which meant that it wasn’t Sharon; that was something of a relief to Peggy. Pierce was too subtle to be so heavy-handed. Someone who wasn’t going to be overly-impressed by Captain America; Steve had never had much patience for that. Someone with a sense of humor who could keep up with him intellectually. Maybe a veteran, but maybe not.

And most importantly, someone whom Pierce thought was willing to sleep with Captain America for Hydra.

She was still thinking about that a week later when one of Pierce’s agents on her security detail knocked on her door. The woman came in after Peggy had called her agreement, still holding her mobile phone.

“Madame Director, I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said. “There’s been an incident at the Triskelion and Director Pierce would like to take you into protective custody for the time being.”

“What kind of incident?” Peggy asked, startled.

“Agents were killed,” said the Hydra agent. “That’s all I know, ma’am, I’m sorry. Let me help you pack a bag; Sarah’s bringing around the car.”

“Well, that’s dreadful, but I don’t see what it has to do with me,” Peggy said, hoping that her poker face could still hide an adrenaline spike. The only reason she could think of for Pierce to want her moved was that something had happened with Steve. Nick got him out.

“There might be some threat, ma’am,” the agent said apologetically. “Where do you keep your bags, ma’am?”

Since she searched Peggy’s room regularly, she knew perfectly well, but Peggy directed her anyway. She packed up her jewelry and her photographs while the agent packed her clothes; Peggy knew Nick well enough to guess that he had his own agents watching the home and they would be moving in at any moment. Once they took her, she wouldn’t be coming back; better that Hydra do her packing for her than waste time making Nick’s SHIELD loyalists do it.

“I need my pictures,” she told the agent, who nodded in understanding and wrapped the framed photographs carefully in several scarves before closing the suitcase lid on them. She helped Peggy into her coat and turned towards the door, where the man who had just come quietly in promptly tazed her.

“Phil Coulson, Madame Director,” he said, catching the Hydra agent and lowering her to the floor. “Nick sent me; Abe’s boy is out of the hospital and Nick thought it would cheer him up if you came to visit. Is this everything?” he added, looking at her suitcase. “I hate packing.”

“That’s everything,” Peggy said, amused. “Is Abe’s boy all right? Our friend told me there was some trouble with the surgery.”

“He’s sleeping now, but he’ll be all right,” Coulson said, and Peggy felt a knot of unease loosen in her chest. “Not to hurry you, but we’ve only got a fifteen minute window.”

He bundled Peggy and her bags out of the home and into a waiting a car, which was driven by an Asian woman who looked vaguely familiar. At the other end of the block, two identical cars turned out of a shaded driveway and peeled off in opposite directions; through the window Peggy saw that they had the same license plate as the car she was in. She sat quietly in the back with Coulson for another twenty minutes of circuitous driving until the Asian woman said, “I think we’re clear. Melinda May, Madame Director.”

“Pleasure,” Peggy said, then looked at Coulson. “Is Steve – Captain Rogers – really all right? Give me a situation report.” She hesitated. “This is about Captain Rogers, isn’t it?”

“Last I heard,” Coulson said. “I don’t know much; Director Fury can tell you more when we reach headquarters.”

“Tell me what you do know,” Peggy ordered.

Coulson exchanged a look with May in the rearview mirror, then said, “Sometime in the last five hours, Captain Rogers killed the scientist Hydra’s had working on – on him, along with some STRIKE agents. The agent Pierce and Sitwell have had handling him is one of ours; she was meeting with Fury today while Captain Rogers was supposed to be in the lab. Captain Rogers broke out of the Triskelion and trailed her to the meet, where he disabled another half-dozen SHIELD agents – ours, this time. He apparently had a nice conversation with Fury before Hydra realized he was gone and activated his governor implant. That was about half an hour ago. Last I heard he was going into emergency surgery to remove the implant.”

“Pierce put a governor implant in Steve?” Peggy said, shocked and then annoyed with herself for being shocked. Of course Alexander Pierce would have put a governor implant in Steve Rogers. “Of course he did. Steve – Captain Rogers – broke himself out? What’s been happening in there? What have they been doing to him?”

Coulson just shook his head.

Nick told her more once they had arrived at the SHIELD black site. Peggy had no idea where he and his SHIELD loyalists had been hiding out for the past three years, but since they were still running around, apparently Pierce didn’t know either.

“Rogers wiped the computers in the lab, stole the data, and set a time-delayed explosive on his way out,” he informed her. “The Triskelion’s on high alert right now, so none of our people still inside have been able to tell us exactly how much Hydra knows or if they managed to save any of the data or biological samples. We have to assume they’ve got some of it stored off-site. A good kill on Nagel,” he added. “Rogers is still under and can’t tell us what sent him over the edge today, but from everything I know about Nagel he’s a nasty piece of work. Romanoff says he did a number on Rogers while they were at the Triskelion; he’s been working on him ever since he came out of the ice.”

“Wilfred Nagel?” Peggy said. “I recognize that name –”

“Yeah, he’s a son of a bitch. When Romanoff – my agent – found out what he was doing to Rogers she told us we had to exfil him first chance we got. That was a couple weeks ago.”

Peggy took a deep breath. “What was he doing to Captain Rogers?”

“Testing his enhanced healing, among other things. Romanoff said Rogers was terrified of him.”

“Steve’s not afraid of anything,” Peggy said reflexively, but she knew from Nick’s expression and the gentle tone in his voice that it was the truth. She also knew that “testing his enhanced healing” was a polite way to say “torture,” though from what she knew about Dr. Nagel he probably hadn’t even thought about that. He would have been one of Arnim Zola’s protegees if Zola had lived longer. She shut her eyes, breathing hard, before she looked at Nick again and said, “Where is he now?”

“Just came out of surgery.”

“I want to see him.”

Nick nodded. He took her down several hallways to a makeshift but very clean series of rooms being used as a medical bay, stopping her in a room with a large window into a second room. Beyond it, Peggy could see a woman sitting by a hospital bed. She was young and very pretty, currently engaged in braiding her curling red hair into a thick plait. Most of her attention seemed to be fixed on the man sleeping beside her.

It was Steve.

He looked like Steve, Peggy thought with a shock. He looked like the Steve Rogers who lived only in her memory and her photographs, like he hadn’t aged a day in sixty-seven years of Sleeping Beauty slumber. The shield was propped up at the foot of the bed.

Peggy took a deep breath, her heart hammering. She pressed her hand to her chest in an attempt to calm herself down, then made herself ask, “Is that her?”

“Natasha Romanoff,” Nick said. “Alexander Pierce’s handpicked choice to handle Captain America and fortunately one of our agents; she would have been my choice too.” He hesitated for an instant, then went on, “You’re not going to like this part. She’s ex-SVR, Red Room-trained; defected in ’08, the same week that the fiasco at Stark went down.”

He was right; Peggy didn’t like it. She was a little shocked that Steve evidently had. “Red Room?” she repeated, focusing on that. “I thought the program had been shut down in 1993, 1994, not long after the Soviet Union met its ignominious end. That girl’s, what, twenty-five? Twenty-six?”

“Twenty-seven, same age as Rogers, give or take seven decades and a few years.” Nick shook his head. “The Red Room just went underground. Romanoff killed the guy running it when she left.” The corner of his mouth quirked a little. “So she and Rogers have got that in common.”

“Pierce isn’t dead, is he?” Peggy said, startled.

“Not that I’ve heard, but I doubt he’s going to last much longer,” Nick said. His fingers flexed a little, like he was thinking about wrapping them around Alexander Pierce’s neck. “This is it, Peggy, I can feel it. This is how they lose and we win.”

“I’m sorry about this, Nat.”

Natasha finished tying off the end of her braid and looked up at Clint, frowning. “About what?”

“Getting you into this.” He pushed away from where he had been slouching by the door and came over to her, pulling up another chair next to Steve’s bed but angling it so he wasn’t looking at Steve. “I made you some promises four years ago and six months later you were dumped into Hydra.”

Natasha shrugged. “I knew what I was doing. You and Fury and Hill made it pretty clear to me what I was getting myself into when I decided to stay. Besides, it’s nothing I’ve never done before.”

Clint tipped his head towards Steve and said, “Not this.”

Natasha glanced up at him, frowning. “What you think I did? I’ve done it before. Besides, this wasn’t that.”

“They made you sleep with him.”

“No, they wanted me to sleep with him,” Natasha corrected. “I slept with him because I wanted to. There’s a difference.”

His mouth worked briefly. “You should never have been in a position where we ended up having this conversation.”

“I had plenty of chances to get out, Clint,” Natasha reminded him, flicking a glance at the two-way mirror that took up most of one wall. She was pretty sure that there was someone behind it, keeping an eye on them; whoever it happened to be was certainly getting an earful. “It was my choice to stay under, not yours.”

“But you shouldn’t have –”

“Four years ago you said I had the right to be able to make my own choices,” Natasha cut him off. “That means all of my choices, Clint, even the ones that you wouldn’t make. Even the ones that you wouldn’t have to make.”

He winced. Clint was more of a soldier than a spy; he could flirt with the best of them, but like Americans Natasha had known he didn’t have the temperament for the kind of work she had been trained for. Even if he hadn’t already been too closely associated with Fury to pull it off, he wouldn’t have lasted more than a year undercover with Hydra. Natasha had no idea who the other loyalists at the Triskelion were and had forced herself not to speculate; it was safer for all of them if no one knew who the others were.

“Sitwell and Pierce couldn’t have made me sleep with him,” Natasha added. “They knew that. If they had wanted someone who would try to jump into bed with him immediately, there are other people they could have chosen. It wouldn’t have worked, anyway. He’s not that kind of guy.”

“And I’ve got no idea what kind of guy he is, Nat,” Clint said. “Everything I know about him comes out of reports and History Channel documentaries.”

“Didn’t one of those say he was abducted by aliens?”

“Yeah, but according to the alien I know, that one’s not true.”

Natasha’s eyebrows went up. “What alien?”

Clint waved that aside. “That’s not important. What is important is that I don’t know anything about this guy except that Hydra’s had its fingers in his brain for the past six months and he didn’t even notice.”

“He noticed,” Natasha said pointedly, “or he wouldn’t be here right now and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Convenient,” Clint said suspiciously. “So what the hell were they doing to him in that lab today that finally made him snap?”

“Does it matter?” There was a scratchy note but no emotion in Steve’s voice.

Clint and Natasha both jumped; Natasha hadn’t realized he was awake and Clint clearly hadn’t either. Steve flinched when she bent over him, his mouth trembling a little and tears leaking slowly from the corners of his eyes, and Natasha knew immediately that he had been awake for a lot longer than he had let on.

“It’s just me,” she assured him. “It’s just me. Ignore Barton, he’s being an idiot.”

Clint had already gotten up to pour some water from the pitcher on a nearby table, his expression suggesting that he knew he had fucked up by having this conversation where Steve could overhear it.

“They took the implant out,” Natasha assured Steve before he could bring himself to ask about it. “Mine too.” She turned her head and held her braid out of the way so that he could see the bandage on the back of her neck. “Mine was easy to take out, yours not so much, but it’s gone. How do you feel?”

He moved one shoulder in a shrug and didn’t say anything, but he let Natasha help him sit up. He looked suspiciously at the cup Clint brought over and didn’t make any move to take it; Natasha finally took the cup out of Clint’s hand and took a sip to prove to Steve that it was just water. His hands were shaking, but he took it from her, and she closed her hands over his and held it steady until he could drink without spilling water all over himself.

“I’ll tell Fury you’re awake,” Clint said, beating a hasty retreat.

“I knew you were under orders,” Steve said eventually. “I’m not – I knew.”

“You shouldn’t listen to anything Brock Rumlow says, either,” Natasha told him, which got the corner of his mouth to turn up briefly before he went back to frowning.

“If I hurt you –”

“You didn’t hurt me.” Natasha put her hand to his cheek to make certain he was looking at her and said, “You never laid a hand on me I didn’t want you to.”

Steve stared at her for a long moment, then nodded.

“Do you hate me?” Natasha asked him softly. “For lying to you?”

He shook his head. “You didn’t lie to me. You didn’t tell me everything, but you didn’t lie to me, either.”

Natasha took the empty cup from him and set it aside, returning to her seat on the bed next to him. “I am so sorry that this happened to you,” she said when his gaze flickered up to hers. “I wish I’d been able to get you out earlier.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I still should have tried,” Natasha said, and was a little surprised to realize that she meant it. She had weighed the chances of an exfil early on and discarded the option as unviable in those first few months; Steve was watched too closely. Even the ops they had had been on had always been in company with STRIKE and had been in isolated areas that made it nearly impossible to run.

“It would have gotten both of us killed,” Steve said bleakly, his mouth working silently.

Natasha wondered if he had been running the same math that she had and when he had started doing so. “Probably not killed.”

He grimaced and made a gesture of acknowledgment, knowing as well as she did that the two of them together were too valuable to Alexander Pierce to risk that.

“Nat,” he said hesitantly. “The ops we ran for Pierce –”

He didn’t have to finish the question. “I don’t know for sure,” Natasha told him. “I can find out. But for what it’s worth, most of what they’ve been doing at the Triskelion is what SHIELD – the real SHIELD – was doing four years ago. I think the ops we were on were like that. They’d – Sitwell and Pierce would have wanted to have you on softballs first, and push it up from there to see how far you’d go. Not that they talked about it with me at all.” She bit her lip. Rumlow had said a few things that in retrospect made her think that he had known very well what Pierce was doing, whether or not Sitwell had ever told him.

Steve shut his eyes, breathing hard, and put his head in his hands. Natasha had known what she was doing; Steve had just found out he had been running missions for Hydra since he had first gone into the field three months ago.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, not sure whether or not to reach for him. She would have known what to do back at the Triskelion, when she knew they were under surveillance and that Steve had no idea what had been done to him, but now he did and Natasha didn’t know what to do.

Steve’s gaze cut sideways, then went up as the door opened and Nick Fury came in. Natasha sat back, feeling self-conscious and obscurely guilty.

Fury considered her for a moment, then turned his attention to Steve. “How are you feeling, Captain Rogers?”

“Like I’ve had a chunk of metal pried out of my spinal column,” Steve said, hesitating before he added, “Thank you.”

Fury nodded acknowledgment. “I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you.”

Steve looked wary, then his eyes widened as Fury stepped back so that Coulson could wheel in an elderly woman in a wheelchair. She smiled a little tremulously and said, “Hello, Steve.”

“Peggy?” He stood up like he meant to go to her, and then stopped, his expression uncertain.

“It’s all right,” Peggy Carter said. “I don’t bite.” She held out a hand to him, smiling.

Despite the thinness of her face and the mass of wrinkles, her bones were still elegant; Natasha could see the beauty of the woman she had been seven decades earlier. She had seen pictures of Peggy Carter before, some video footage from later in her life – there was none from the Second World War – but none of it compared to the woman herself. There was a blazing aliveness to her despite the fact that she had to be, at Natasha’s quick estimation, ninety-six or ninety-seven.

Natasha eyed her a little warily. She knew perfectly both who Peggy Carter was and who she was to Steve; she also knew that her great-niece Sharon was back at the Triskelion. To the best of her knowledge, Sharon was part of Pierce’s inner circle, Sitwell’s second in command. There was always the chance that she was another one of Fury’s loyalists, but Natasha wasn’t willing to bet money on it.

Steve went hesitantly to Peggy, his bare-footed passage near-silent. He only touched her fingertips at first, like he was afraid she would vanish, then went slowly to his knees in front of her. “Hi.”

“You’re late,” she told him, reaching down to turn his face up to her.

“Traffic,” he said, trying to sound light, but his voice was trembling on the syllables. Then he put his head down against her knee and started to cry.

Fury caught Natasha’s eye and moved his chin slightly in the direction of the door; Natasha nodded and got to her feet. As Natasha passed her, Peggy reached out to touch her sleeve. Natasha paused and looked down at her.

“Thank you,” Peggy said.

Natasha nodded in response and followed Fury and Coulson out.

“How’s he doing?” Fury asked after he had closed the door behind them. Clint was waiting in the corridor; he nodded to Coulson as the other man left, presumably for the observation room that looked in on the hospital room.

Natasha thought the answer to that was fairly obvious, but said, “He’s scared. He just found out about Hydra a few hours ago, remember? He doesn’t know anyone here except for me – and Peggy Carter,” she added, glancing back over her shoulder at the door, “– and he doesn’t have any reason to believe that we’re any different than them.”

Clint scowled. “We didn’t put a fucking chip in his head.”

“You know he has no way of knowing that,” Natasha said. “It’s not the first time he’s woken up in a hospital bed after emergency surgency. Though the last time it wasn’t to a stranger standing over him accusing him of rape.”

“That’s not –”

“That’s what he heard,” Natasha said, a little surprised at how angry she was. “You had no right to say that about him. Or about me.”

Clint shot a slightly panicked look at Fury, whose expression suggested that since he had gotten himself into this mess he was perfectly capable of getting himself out. “You two need a minute?”

Natasha nodded, her mouth tight.

“Get this cleared up fast,” Fury advised. “Pierce isn’t going to give us much time. Even if he doesn’t know for sure, by now he has to guess that we’ve got Rogers.”

He was already reaching for his earpiece as he left.

“You have no idea what it’s like there,” Natasha told Clint. “You’ve been here for the past three and a half years. You don’t know.”

Clint took a deep breath, then said, “So what’s it like?”

Natasha thought for a moment before she said, “Everyone’s watching each other all the time, telling on each other to Sitwell or Carter or Rumlow. They’re always looking for loyalists, people who didn’t buy Pierce’s story about Fury but weren’t involved in the sieges. Sometimes people just disappear. If you know about Hydra, then it’s worse. You’d think it means they trust you, but it doesn’t; it just means they have more to lose if they’re wrong about you, so they watch. All the time. I know every inch of that apartment Steve and I had in the Triskelion was wired. I’m pretty sure he did too, but we never talked about it. You don’t talk about it. No one does. Everyone knows, but no one talks about it. You go on ops, you don’t know why, you don’t ask; you just hope they’re one of the ones that SHIELD would have run anyway and not one of Pierce’s pet projects. Steve and I weren’t the only ones with governor implants there; everyone has them, even Sitwell and Rumlow.”

“Nat…”

“I grew up like that, Clint,” Natasha said bluntly. “It’s all I’ve ever known. Even the six months I was at SHIELD, I know Fury had me under surveillance; I know you were reporting to him about me.”

“Nat –”

“Do you know the difference between being in the Red Room and being in Hydra?” Natasha asked him.

Clint shook his head.

“When I joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight,” Natasha said. “But I just traded in the SVR for Hydra. The difference is that I knew whose lies I was telling and why I was telling them. All that time I was under it was a chance to make up for all the pain and suffering I’d caused.” She raised one shoulder. “That I was still causing. That maybe I could wipe out some of the red in my ledger even while I was adding new lines. I didn’t do it for SHIELD or for Fury or even for you.” She swallowed hard, surprised to find her hands were shaking a little. “You had no right to say that to me.”

Clint took a deep breath, clearly fighting back an assortment of automatic responses, then finally said, “You know I never liked the idea of you staying in. I just want you to be safe.”

“What’s safe?” Natasha said, shaking her head. They had been working together closely the six months she had been with SHIELD, but since Hydra had forced Fury out she had seen him perhaps a dozen times. “You and I, we’re not the kind of people who get to have that. I owe you for getting me out of the Red Room, but I don’t owe you that.”

“You got yourself out of the Red Room,” Clint said. “I just threw you a rope, that’s all.” He hesitated, then said, “I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Natasha said. She wasn’t sure if he actually meant it, but it was probably the best she was going to get.

Clint ran a hand back through his hair, looking tired. “Are you in love with him?”

Natasha glanced up at him, startled by the blunt question. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

#cut scenes and concept writing #ws steve au concept tag #as always comments are appreciated

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sheep-from-rad · 2 years

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Its me again!! I was listening to some musical tunes when i immediately remembered your recreating Hamilton SAGAU content. All i have to say is two things-- Yanfei. Legally Blonde the Musical.

Random out.

(Also imagining Kaeya as Architacos in Gay or European just makes me feel sO MUCH JOY-- AHAHAHA)

SAGAU: Gay or European (ft. Yanfei as Elle Woods)Notes: Took a while for me to get to this ask phew. I have one final quiz tomorrow and next month is final exams ah, time is fast. As per usual, requests are open 24/7. Your author is a bit of a turtle and a college third year student so it might take a while. Thank you!! Warnings: A bit of Kaebedo (not much just them playing as Argitacos and Carlos) Masterlist

Yanfei as Elle Childe as Warner Ayato as Emmett Zhongli as Callahan Amber as Brooke Kaeya as Argitacos Albedo as Carlos Reader as creator/director (so they don’t play a role and just watching in the audience)

Performing in a musical is not something that crossed Yanfei’s mind once, not even when it was a musical made by their creator. She remembers the day clearly, her light stroll in Liyue after a client case was interrupted when a Milileth approached her saying that her presence was needed in the Jade Chamber. With the rise of cases of people trying to trespass to the Jade chamber (and even harassing Ningguang) to get an audience with their creator, Yanfei didn’t really think much of it and let herself be escorted.

It wasn’t until she was given a folder full of paper saying that she will be playing the main character of a musical from their world. Yanfei shook her head once more as she straightened the pencil skirt that she is wearing as part of her costume. It was tailored to match the colours that she wears in her day to day work but the style is a bit more restrictive and prevents her from running around. Her eyes looked at the audience discreetly, you, their creator, is watching them with awe. If her voice cracks in this song, she will lose her face forever for sure.

“Nicos couldn’t have an affair with Brooke! I just did the bend and snap in front of him and nothing. Clearly he must be gay!” Such logic makes her lawyer side question things. She faced tons of cases from Liyue to Mondstadt but she never once heard about something just like this. “Nikos did leave a Cher CD in the pool once”, Amber who is playing as Brooke recalled in her seat.

“You want to out this guy on the stand? Elle, that’s crazy. You can’t build a legal strategy on the... Bend and Snap. We need a defense, not a dance move”, Childe who is at the table behind them said. Her fingers are just itching to catch him to throw him to jail but he was tasked specifically to to play a role and the creator seemed to like them.

“So you think he’s perjured himself. But you can’t prove it. If you’re not right, we look desperate AND homophobic”, the mysterious funeral director said this time. He looks even more formal with the costume tailored with the colors he usually wears. The glasses that he wears were enough to make the girls in town squeal earlier.

“But if she is right…”

“And I know I am right”

The spotlight shifted to Kaeya and he froze like a statue. His normal open chested shirt that showcases his pecs to hungry people to see is in a bolder colour of blue. The smile on his face rivals Childe’s and Yanfei is pretty sure that if both of them go together it will be trouble.

THERE!RIGHT THERE!-- LOOK AT THAT TAN, WELL-TENDED SKIN!LOOK AT THE KILLER SHAPE HE’S IN!LOOK AT HIS SLIGHTLY STUBBLY CHIN!OH PLEASE, HE’S GAY,TOTALLY GAY!

Zhongli who is playing as Callahan shifted took place next to her and sighed. He himself is starting to question the logic but he found it himself as fun.

I’M NOT ABOUT TO CELEBRATE: EVERY TRAIT COULD INDICATE A TOTALLY STRAIGHT EXPATRIATE. THIS GUY’S NOT GAY. I SAY NOT GAY.

The passing of lines continued with the audience throwing flowers in the first row as Childe said ‘Depending on the time of day, Snezhnayans go either way’. People in the first row were enjoying it so much, minus for Itto who got flowers in his mouth as he is so focused on the show that he keeps on gasping at every information that he is learning.

WAIT A MINUTE! GIVE ME A CHANCE TO CRACK THIS GUY. I’VE AN IDEA I’D LIKE TO TRY.

The gentleman from Inazuma took his place on the floor. His costume is the same style as the clothing that he wore when he first set foot in Liyue harbour but it is in powder blue colour. He buttoned his suit before taking the floor. “So Mr. Argitacos”, he started. The two blue haired gentlemen stared at each other, their smiles playing as the greeting. To Yanfei they are both shady figures but not as bad as the fatui who is playing a big character on their table.

“this alleged affair with Mrs. Wyndham has been going on for...?”

“2 years”

“..and your first name is?”

“Nikos”

“And your boyfriend’s name is?”

“Albedo”

The whole makeshift theatre set up in the docks gasped with Itto being loudest in front. Thoma, who is in the audience, stopped eating midway, Diluc had to set down the bottle of liquor that he was mixing in the mini bar, and Paimon even accidentally squeaked. Kaeya fake coughed and Yanfei felt herself smile. “I’m sorry I think I misunderstood! You say boyfriend I thought you said best friend! Albedo is my best friend!”

The shock didn’t stop there as Albedo stood straight up from the audience. He was a bit late that’s why instead of the stage, he opted to sit in the audience instead. Him suddenly shouting that the back made people turn their heads fast together with Venti who is holding the spotlight. “YOU BASTARD!” he shouted. Sucrose had to be pulled by Eula to the side as she felt her legs giving up. This is the first time that she saw her teacher getting mad and even cursed. “YOU LYING BASTARD!” Albedo started walking quickly to the stage.

“That’s it! I no cover for you no more! People! I have big announcement!..”

The front stage erupted in colours of the rainbow and the front lights opened. The whole song for Yanfei remained silly as it wasn’t something that she heard even once as a lawyer. She knows for sure after this play that she’s going to miss the role.

Taglist: @chihawari @eccedentesiast-sapphic @zurithegalaxywolf

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gachagen · 11 months

Text

What occupations do the Fontaine character's have?

THE OVERTURE TEASER DROPPED and I have a lot of thoughts on it, but mostly the thing I have been thinking about are the various jobs and occupations that the characters will have. In Genshin, it's very standard for characters to have their design be themed around their job. Gorou is dressed like a general, Itto has themes of Kabuki theatre in his outfit and often likes to go and perform in the shows, Hutao is dressed like an old funeral director etc.

And I noticed the Fontaine characters all have a theme of red and blue in them with the exception of a few characters. I also noticed that their outfits are noticeably not quite as "costume" like as the other nations, where you can't immediately tell what job they are supposed to have.

Let's start with Fremenet, this blond kid in the water at the beginning of the teaser:

My theory is that based off of the holographic glow to his suit and how sleek it is, that he is some kind of deep sea diver. His outfit is very reminiscent of a diver's outfit minus the whole swim gear that lets you breath. Fontaine is said to have technology that's way more advanced than the other nations so this could be why he doesn't have any kind of helmet.

He also mumbles about "his mission" and that makes me wonder if he is a diver sent on a mission to do something deep underwater.

These two we already knew were performers of some kind, but there's obviously something more going on here with them than meets the eye. The trailer constantly repeats this as well, since it's mostly being narrated Lyney himself. I think they have a much more important role in Fontaine. My theory was always that Fontaine was a nation that has to keep most of what it does under wraps because it's the closest to Celestia. Like Fontaine is LITERALLY underneath Celestia. So perhaps these two are responsible for making sure people don't question things or they don't dig too deeply into learning certain things.

Fontaine seems to be the most politically driven nation so I suspect their job will be to not only entertain people, but to distract the public from the truth around them.

Now she's kind of a mystery and I had no idea what she was even really up to most of the trailer. But I think that's the point because she's always doing something that's kind of strange, and she's always in a place she probably shouldn't be in.

Like here she is on top of a building for some reason and then later on we see she's also in another place she shouldn't be. The character has a theme of being in places she's not allowed to be in, and I think this is on purpose because I believe her "job" will be as either some kind of model/influencer. Another reason i believe she might be some kind of Model/Influencer is because she's paired up with Charlotte the reporter we met in the last patch.

It's almost like they're partnered together, and it would make sense for someone who's whole job is to have pictures taken of them, to be with someone who takes lots of photos.

These two seemed really cool, but one thing I didn't notice on first watch of the trailer was that the red and black guy is BLIND. I thought he was just reaching over by mistake, but looking at his eyes and how he kinda felt the top of the first glass, it's clear that he is hard of vision/totally blind. My guess for them is that they're involved with the more official parts of Fontaine, possible law enforcement or whatever (he seems super edgy lol) and the little girl is like idk...his assistant I guess.

I think these two are obviously like idk the guards of the city, she seems like a police officer and even has a gun at the end.

Now I already know what some of their official jobs are because of leaks but I won't repeat them here. These are my guesses for what they're going to do as their occupation in the game.

#genshin impact #fontaine teaser #genshin impact 4.0 #fontaine theories

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positivelybeastly · 4 months

Note

sender helps receiver clean up after a kill. logan!

He's just.

Sat, there. On the bed.

It wasn't the way it was meant to go. Not even remotely. Not even - it hadn't been part of his calculations, it hadn't, wasn't meant to go this way. The plan had been, seemingly, flawless. Simply get the XENO operative back to the hotel suite, knock him out, one of the team telepaths could carefully remove the memories of the struggle, and then they could plant the biotechnological tracker.

Simple.

Simple simple simple. Beast had had it planned down to the picosecond.

And then the instant he'd gotten him back to the hotel suite, he'd - what? Panicked? Flipped out? Something hadn't gone the way he'd planned, the variables were off, the man hadn't reacted the way he was meant to according to the psychological profile he'd loaded into his predictive algorithms. He should have gone into the room first, then Beast could follow, and it would be simple.

But he'd insisted Beast go first.

The plan - broke, it just broke. One tiny little variation, and it had broken. Again. Just like. Just like the president's son.

What did he do next?

He'd reacted. He couldn't afford another mistake. He couldn't. One mistake had already cost him Jean, if he fouled this up, then who next? He had to react. Contain it. Stop it from becoming more of a problem.

The rest of the team had waited. Two minutes had passed since the expected confirmation, and Beast hadn't signalled. Then a crackle. A strangely calm, detached baritone.

"Target down. Request assistance."

In they'd walked, and there was.

Mulch.

And Beast, just sitting on the bed.

Logan had, naturally been the first to react, started to clean up, barking orders like the field leader he was, even if their Director was currently sat shell shocked on the edge of a bed. They could still plant the tracker on the body, track it back to whatever funeral home would prepare it, get some positive IDs at the interment, whatever - this was salvageable.

But Beast . . .

He'd tried cleaning the man up, but he just wouldn't fucking move. He was just stuck there, like a big dumb blue gargoyle, staring, and eventually he'd just had to slap him, hard, to snap him back to some kind of reality.

"Guh! Hnnng, hhhhuhh, huh, huhh, huh."

He kicked. Started. Shuddered.

Up came a shaky blue hand to grasp his chin, as if to set his jaw so it didn't wobble, but that just meant he made more of a mess, sweet sanguinary dewdrops dripping from his fingers all over his shirt, smearing all over his chin. He looked at Logan over the rim of his glasses, his eyes twitching and shifting and reading and moving as if in the midst of a dream.

"Logan?"

There's still something a little bit alive left in his eyes. For now. It moves like a cat that can feel the shadow passing over it, knowing it's not long now. It doesn't want to die. He brings up a hand to cup Logan's chin, and it's not cold, the touch, he's warm. His claws don't even dig in, this touch is gentle. He wants to be gentle. He wants that, not this. Please don't make him be this.

"Logan?"

Logan could stop it. Right now. Hold a hand out to a drowning man, pull him out, get him help. It's not quite too late. The toes have been dipped, the foot's in the pool, but the deep end is avoidable. Pull him out. It's just that easy. It really, actually is. Just stop this now.

But he won't.

"Logan?"

Will he?

#dusktrip #verse: each of us is a nest of lies #bloody violent prompts #blood tw #violence tw #decapitation tw #tw decapitated head

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occasionallythreeowls · 1 year

Text

Day Four: Past/Future

It’s tucked beneath dusty, moth-eaten layers of scarves and cardigans. Virtually intact, despite the poor material and clumsy stitchwork, after ten years of neglect.

Robin picks up the coat, and, in a fit of whimsy, puts it on.

It comes down to about her middle back, tight around the shoulders, the cheap clasp so worn and tired she can’t get it to close around her collar. Tufts of her short dark hair peek out under the hood. It’s a comical contrast to the rest of her outfit: a simple black dress without filigree or fanfare, the sort of thing you wear to fulfil an obligation and go home without a fuss.

The funeral had been a simple affair. Their grandmother was nominally religious, so they buried her in the small, tidy graveyard of Saint Charles’ and mumbled half-hearted prayers beneath the flat gray sky. Their mother (so thin and grey, face lined and eyes hollow—when had she changed?) gave a eulogy, and each one of the family mutely took a handful of grave dirt to toss into the open grave. Still makes her sick, those neat little pits, leading to the embrace of empty earth.

Not like flowers. People are put into the ground like something cursed. Buried forgetting-deep. Like something you never, ever want to see again.

Robin found herself staring into the hungry dark for a full minute before Ruby tapped her on the shoulder and led her back into the church for the wake.

There weren’t many people there. Strictly family, Grandmother had said. Robin looked at the pale, solemn faces of her siblings, and at the mildly uncomfortable faces of Ginger’ girlfriend and Carmen’s fiancé. Neither of them had ever met Grandmother, couldn’t understand the hole in their partners’ hearts. Still, they did what they could, offering small comforts and holding to their partners’ arms as if afraid they’d drift away like balloons.

Rose sat by a stained glass window depicting Salome and John the Baptist. She looked, as usual, far, far away. Her hair was even longer than it had been when they were kids; nearly down to her waist. She’s growing it out for some charity or another, Carmen had said.

Rose noticed Robin staring and smiled. She seemed so serene in this place of death. Being a hospice nurse would do that, Robin supposed. She nodded at Rose without a word.

Elsewhere, Ginger and Ruby were talking quietly over a plate of aggressively okay cold cuts. Ginger was still well and truly the shortest of the family, and even heavy-duty leather boots wouldn’t fix that.

Ginger shifted their weight from one foot to another, practically sparking with nervous energy. They’d told Robin once that they really only felt at ease on the park trails, cataloguing plants or saving hikers or whatever it was rangers did. Robin can believe it. Ginger was never made for cities and smog.

Ruby also looked out of place, face riddled with piercings, hair buzzed to nearly nothing. She and Robin haven't spoken in almost a year. Ruby just sort of vanished once she left high school, only popping into her siblings' lives for a handful of nights before heading back out for some alone time with her demons.

Robin isn't sure what Ruby does. Maybe Ruby isn't sure either. She looked healthy, at least. No signs of old habits.

"You okay there, space cadet?" Carmen asked. She looked weird without dye in her hair. Apparently her office wasn't a fan of hair dye, or piercings, or tattoos, or anything that might offend the faceless board of directors and their old fashioned values. Apparently not working unpaid overtime offended the higher-ups too, as did taking full lunches, talking too often, or existing too loudly.

It's good money, Carmen always said. Better than we ever had growing up. It's not the best job, but it'll help make sure my kids don't grow up like we did.

"All good," Robin said. "Well. Apart from the obvious."

"Yeah."

"She lived a long life."

"Could've been longer."

Robin wasn't sure what to say to that, so she said nothing at all, and waited by the pews as Carmen went back to talking to Scarlet by the door, where the latter had been watching the weather. Looked like it might rain. No good, trying to drive in that.

Ever sensible, Scarlet. Sensible classy loafers, sensible refined dress, sensible short hair. A sensible job; a music teacher, with occasional gigs on the side. A sensible compromise between reality and aspiration.

Robin looked around the room again. Her siblings went about the grim business of packing up a wake. No one was crying; no one was a stranger to tragedy.

At Grandmother's house, the siblings searched the rooms and halls (too many for such a small building) for belongings to put into storage. And here, Robin found the coat. One put away in a dark forgotten place ten years ago, hoping the dust of passing years would smother Robin's nightmares.

Ten years have passed. Robin still dreams of teeth.

She hugs the coat to her chest. In spite of all that coat has seen, she doesn't want to part with it now. Her grandmother's last and greatest gift. The last thing Robin has of her, now.

It'll look weird in her dorm room, she supposes. A hand-stitched children's coat amidst band tees and overpriced sweatshirts in the closet she shares with a perpetually exhausted chemistry major who never does her laundry.

Well. People put weirder things in dorms.

Robin sighs and hugs the coat to her chest, wondering if she can smell a hint of onions and wine, her grandmother's sharp but not unpleasant smell. Instead she just smells dust and fiber.

She stuffs the coat into her bag, and gets back to sorting the remnants of her grandmother's life.

#the path #the path game #the path 2009 #the path tale of tales #the path robin #the path rose #the path ginger #the path ruby #the path carmen #the path scarlet #thepathweek2023 #thepathweek23

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crmsnmth · 2 months

Text

September Sky Chapter One, Part 8

"Fine, Midnight Magenta. Either way, it was bugging me that I'd never seen you around. You're kind of noticeable. With the hair and eyeliner."

I laughed and shrugged. To be honest, I had wondered that myself. How I had gone through my time in college without noticing her? And then, the day I leave, I almost take her out.

"Do you ever go out?" She was looking at me, reading me.

"Yeah, I do. I wander around a lot." I said, smiling back.

"That's weird. So close, yet so far."

"Apparently, I had to just ruin your lunch to make it happen," I smirked.

"Very true, but can we not make that a regular thing?"

She was easy to speak to now. I found myself letting my brain do its thing and not worry about my mouth. It seemed we had the native tongue of sarcasm shared as well. I hadn't felt that comfortable around someone that quickly since Chad.

"I will try my absolute hardest to pay attention to my surroundings," I said, hold one hand up with my pointer and middle fingers raised.

"And?" Addison said with a playful grin.

"I'll try to not to go around ruining people's lunches," I said, laughing slightly.

I hadn't even realized it, but Addison was pulling into one of the limited parking spaces on Center Street. There weren't a lot and it was always a pain to find a spot. We got lucky this time.

She turned off the truck and silence took the airwaves. I said nothing. She said nothing. And it felt natural. Like it belonged. There was no desperate desire to start talking again. It was sitting in silence. We both got out of the truck and she met me on the sidewalk. We had about a half a block to walk, which really isn't all that bad.

"So what are you in school far?" I asked, as we walked along. Across the road, a couple were walking an excited and happy chocolate lab. Cars and trucks drove up and down the road, some turning down side streets.

"You're going to think it's weird," she said. Now the question seemed to have gained some substance. From just an easy getting to know someone question, into something with mystery.

"Look at me, " I waved my hands along my body, "I am weird. I like weird. The weirder the better."

"You make a good point."

"So, seriously, what is it?"

"I'm studying to become a mortician."

"Like a funeral director?" I asked, unsure that I had heard her right.

"Yeah," she said. We were now standing outside the door of The Uptowner, as I finished up a cigarette.

I don't know what I had expected, but it definitely wasn't that. Of course, I thought it was one of the coolest things I've seen in a very long time. It only added to this woman's charm.

"You're quiet. You do think it's weird." Addison said.

"Well, duh. Of course I think it's weird. And I also happen to think that it is extremely fucking cool. "

"Really?" She gave me huge smile, and behind her black framed glasses, her blue eyes opened wide.I tossed the cigarette into a small metal bucket filled with sand, right outside the bar's doors. I beat her to the door, and held it open for her. I followed behind.

The Uptowner is definitely a dive bar. There was no way in hell you could refute that fact. Tables scattered along the floor, a match book, or a folded coaster was under the legs of at least half of them. Along the wall were old church pews that had been carved on and chipped that most of the finish was gone. In the far back sat two pinball machines from the nineties that had seen better days. One even carried a crack along it's glass top. A pool table, with felt that had been ripped and repaired far too many times. Stains covered the field, some of which were not just drinks. The actual bar sat about 13 or 14 people. Addison and I took the two stools closest to the door.

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aastarions · 2 years

Text

stay gold [three]

Previous Chapter || Series Masterlist || Next Chapter

Pairing: Zhongli x Female!Reader

Series Tags: Eventual Smut (18+), Kinda Slow Burn, Reader has a Backstory/Lore, Heavy Liyue Lore, Lots of Fluff, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Reader uses She/Her Pronouns

Word Count: 5,100+

A/N: Here’s the 3rd chapter! Again, I had already posted these on AO3 so going forth I’ll be posting new chapters on both AO3 and Tumblr around the same time! I’m nearly halfway through writing chapter 4 so thank you in advanced for your patience 💕

It’s been a week since you explored a fraction of Liyue Harbor with your newest acquaintance– friend, Zhongli. Within the past seven days that have passed, you’ve come into contact with the funeral consultant for five of them.

He easily became a regular customer at Kai’s Teashop, stopping in every single morning for a large, hot tea and whichever fresh pastry was highlighted to be the special of the day. The only time you weren’t sure if he swung by was during the weekend, which you’re fortunate enough to have off for.

A routine developed between the two of you, though. One that has you looking forward to going to work specifically because you know you’ll get to witness the heartwarming grin that reaches his gentle, golden eyes as you hand him his goods. On a few occasions, you were even able to hold a brief conversation before the morning rush piled past those glass doors.

So imagine the disappointment that festers in your chest when the afternoon rolls around and you have yet to see him today.

You tell yourself that it’s truly not that big of a deal, attempting to apply your full attention to the last hour of work instead…but your mind keeps wandering, wondering if something might have occurred. He could have fallen ill, or injured himself, or he just didn’t feel the need to stop by today – the possibilities are quite endless.

The next and final hour goes by at a snail’s pace, finding yourself cleaning nearly every inch of the shop’s interior to pass the time while your coworker takes care of the very few customers that walk through. You manage to keep your mind somewhat occupied, at least until the very end of your shift. When a string of words from a patron’s mouth catches your attention.

“Do you happen to know where the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is? I’ve just come from out of town to meet with Director Hu Tao, but I’m not sure where the building is actually located.”

You listen to your coworker give directions to the lost gentlemen just before you head to the back of the shop to gather your belongings, taking a mental note of the parlor’s location. Never did it occur to you that you actually hadn’t known where his job was located, only that it was in fact somewhere in the harbor.

It’s not until you reach into your tote for your shades – eyes catching on the history book that Zhongli had brought in earlier that week for you to borrow – that you decide you could use this newfound knowledge.

Maybe, just maybe, you could head over to the funeral parlor with the finished non-fiction novel, bringing some fresh pastries alongside as a gift for him – well, if he’s actually there.

Would it be too weird? Or strange? The doubts plague your mind as you teeter back and forth between going through with it or abandoning it altogether.

“Ah, screw it…” You eventually mutter to yourself, hoisting your tote onto your shoulder as you return to the front of the shop. Catching your coworker’s attention, you start to say, “I’m gonna grab a few pastries and some tea, could you ring me up–”

“No need for that, take whatever you’d like!”

The startling voice of your boss, Mr. Kai, has you nearly leaping out of your skin. Spinning on your heels, you turn to face him just as he’s fully stepped inside his shop, “No, it’s okay I can pay–”

“Nonsense!” He insists with a hearty laugh, rounding the counter and making his way over to the many jugs of freshly brewed tea, “So what did you want to get?”

You wind up leaving work with a large container of tea, specifically Zhongli’s go-to, and a dozen assorted pastries – much more than you initially anticipated on bringing with you. Nonetheless, you trudge up the hill through Chihu Rock, carefully balancing the box of sweet-smelling goods in one hand while the other holds tightly onto the heavy jug of hot liquid.

Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is much closer to your apartment than you expected, you think while crossing over the bridge to Feiyun Slope, making an immediate left towards an unmarked building. With both of your hands occupied, you resort to knocking on the wooden door with your foot instead and hope that the directions you eavesdropped on were correct.

The front door swings open violently seconds later, the lost gentleman from the tea shop stumbling past you as though he’s just seen a ghost. Following his trail is a short brunette calling out towards him, “Wait, wait! I was only trying to help you save money!”

“By suggesting I have a joint funeral with my late-brother?! You’re out of your mind, lady! I’ll take my business elsewhere!”

He wastes no time in storming off while muttering expletives under his breath, heading as far away as possible from the funeral parlor, at least that’s what you assume. You can only watch in complete and utter confusion, eyebrows knitting together as you recall what was shouted only seconds prior.

Something along the lines of a joint funeral…with his brother–

“Hiya! Sorry about that guy, come on in!” The young woman who’s name you have yet to learn suddenly ushers you into the building before you get a chance to fully comprehend what just transpired, “Welcome to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, I’m Hu Tao, the current director. Were you looking to arrange a funeral?”

The interior is exactly how one would expect a funeral parlor to look like. Dark wooden paneling on the walls, a crimson colored carpet lining through the center of the narrow hallway, vintage looking furniture that compliments the dreary atmosphere one often feels when stepping inside a place like this. An overall stark contrast to the bubbly personality that emanates from the Director you now know as Hu Tao.

You eventually shake your head, placing the pastries and tea on the nearest surface before your arms truly begin to ache, “No, actually–”

“Were you just looking for a casket, then? We have a huge selection of all shapes, sizes, colors, finishes–”

The sound of a door creaking down the hallway catches both of your attention, watching none other than Zhongli make his way over while interrupting with, “Director, would you please practice some self-restraint when speaking to new clients–”

“Hi, not a new client…unfortunately?” You send a shy wave in his direction, the visible signs of agitation that plagued his features dissipating as those golden eyes land on you.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise,” Zhongli halts in his tracks only a few feet away, your name falling from his lips before he asks, “What brings you here? Is everything alright?”

Nodding, you begin your longer-than-necessary explanation, “Yeah, everything’s fine, you just uh…you didn’t come by this morning for your usual tea so I thought maybe something happened…like you were sick or got hurt so I thought I’d come by with some tea and pastries…though I guess if you were sick you wouldn’t be here – anyways…my boss gave me much more than I originally asked for–”

His raspy chuckle echoes through the narrow space, a much needed interruption to your rambling, “That is quite a hefty amount of tea, thank you for thinking of me, though I am quite alright. The Director and I had an early morning consultation in one of the nearby villages so I was unable to fetch my usual breakfast. My apologies for worrying you.”

“You know…” Your gaze swaps to Hu Tao, who’s currently sporting a rather mischievous grin on her lips, “We have an amazing friends and family discount. Since you seem to be close with Zhongli and all, how about fifteen percent off the purchase of one of our luxurious satin-lined caskets–”

“Director.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll stop, promise.” She insists, though that cheeky smile never wavers, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, any friend of Zhongli is a friend of mine!”

In the midst of shaking the eccentric brunette’s hand you quickly learn her alternative intentions, “And since we’re friends, you don’t mind if I take a snack or two right? I’m starving.”

Zhongli scoffs at her blunt attitude, but you can’t help but let out a few laughs at the entire ordeal.

“That’s fine, there’s plenty to go around!”

It’s not long after that you find yourself in Zhongli’s office, an assortment of documents pushed to the side in favor of his makeshift lunch. You glance around, any personal touches nowhere to be found. Only a wooden desk crafted with what appears to be sandbearer wood, a few chairs, and a filing cabinet make up the small space.

“It’s rather bland, isn’t it?” He notices your gaze follow around the room, “This office is a stark contrast to my abode – I’ve begun to run out of shelving for my books and antiques.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” You turn to grab your tote that’s hanging on the corner of the seat, fishing out the novel he had let you borrow and placing it atop the desk, “I, uh, I finished reading it.”

Zhongli appears surprised by your words, “That was certainly quick, I take it that you enjoyed Verses of Equilibrium?”

“I did! I’ve never had the chance to explore historical books before, especially one with such a poetic format…Rex Lapis did a lot to keep his people safe, the adepti too! You can tell how much the people here adore their Archon…it used to be like that in Fontaine, too…”

“I faintly recall overhearing about the original Hydro Archon’s passing, having been replaced with the God of Justice.” He says after a few bites of the sugary-sweet pastry, “I imagine it’s difficult for people to accept a new ruler without cause for concern.”

“Liyue seems to be handling the loss of their God better than Fontaine, just from what I’ve seen since living here.” You mention, thinking back to your conversation with him a week prior. Where he explained how the Liyue Qixing and the people themselves are in control of their own nation, rather than the God they once relied so heavily on.

Zhongli nods in agreement, “The Qixing have done a divine job of governing the nation both before and after Rex Lapis’ passing, using everything he taught them alongside their own beliefs in what will better this prosperous nation.

“I’m glad that you found the reading to your liking,” he continues, “If you’re interested, I can head upstairs and allow you to borrow another–”

“Upstairs?” You raise an eyebrow.

He nods once more, “Indeed, Director Hu was kind enough to allow me to rent the space above the parlor, though she certainly uses it to her advantage by occasionally pestering me on my days off.”

Despite only having known Hu Tao for all of a few minutes, this doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. If anything, it’s entirely befitting of the personality she exudes only seconds after meeting her.

“You don’t have to grab it right this second, actually I hope I’m not intruding with this sudden visit while you’re working–”

“Nonsense,” Zhongli reassures you, “I had intended on fetching something to eat soon anyways…besides, I find your company to be most enjoyable.”

The instant warmth that envelopes your complexion betrays you, exposing your inability to receive any and all compliments without turning into a flustered mess. Whether or not the man in front of you picks up on it, you’re unaware, the lower half of his face shielded by the cup of tea he’s brought to his lips.

“What do you do for work here anyways? Is it really just preparing funerals all day?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Not entirely,” he goes on to explain, “though I occasionally assist with every day funeral proceedings when needed, I’m mostly hired contractually through Wangsheng for my rather extensive knowledge on Liyue, specifically its history and traditions.”

“So…like a hitman, but for knowledge instead of killing.”

The loud laughter that spills from his lips is unexpected, watching pure and utter amusement adorn his usually stoic features. He sets the cup down before potentially soiling his paperwork with warm tea, responding after a much needed intake of breath, “That is quite a strange way to define it, but sure.”

For a little while longer, the both of you continue to talk about rather trivial, but enjoyable topics. Conversation with Zhongli comes so naturally – it genuinely feels as though he’s someone you’ve known for weeks, or months, rather than a measly single week.

Although he tends to go on long tangents about topics that interest him, he also knows when to press his lips together and avidly listen. Something many men of higher status in Fontaine lack, at least the ones that you had the misfortune of meeting.

It’s in the middle of one of your own tangents that you’re interrupted by three knocks at his door, your shoulders flinching at the sudden sound. When the door creaks open, you’re met with the familiar eyes of Hu Tao.

“Oi, Zhongli, did you forget we have to head to Bubu Pharmacy?”

“Ah, yes, we best make haste,” Zhongli begins to rise from his seat before glancing back over at you, “I apologize, we should continue our conversation another–”

Hu Tao interrupts once more, also turning to face you, “Why don’t you come with us? It’s not like it's top secret business, we’re just looking for ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Your eyes widen, making sure you didn’t mishear.

She nods as though it’s nothing, “Yep! Since the usual exorcist is out of town, we’ve been asked to investigate some strange activity for quite a hefty amount of Mora, so what do ya say?”

You can’t help but look over at Zhongli for his opinion, only to find a small smile on his lips, “As long as it’s not intruding on the rest of your day, of course.”

“I really didn’t have any plans…'' This impromptu trip to the funeral parlor was anything but orchestrated in advance. The only thing you considered doing today was wandering around the harbor and taking some photos with your Kamera, but you could save that for another time, “Sure, why not?”

The three of you set off for Bubu Pharmacy only minutes later, walking through the entirety of Feiyun Slope until you’ve reached a part of the harbor you haven’t gotten a chance to visit before. Crossing a small stone bridge, you turn right towards the large building that’s settled atop a long and tall staircase.

There’s two people in the pharmacy…scratch that, one person? You’re not entirely sure.

You’re about to consider the purple-haired child with the pale complexion to be the ghost they’re after until she finally speaks with narrowed eyes at Hu Tao, “Oh. It’s you. I don’t like you.”

“Qiqi, Director Hu is here to help us!” The young man behind the counter nervously says, “Sorry about that, thank you for coming on such short notice, if Baizhu finds out we’ve lost merchandise while he’s away in Sumeru…”

“Don’t sweat it!” Hu Tao laughs, entirely unphased, “Now would you or the zombie mind telling me what’s going on here?”

“...zombie?” Just when things couldn’t get any more confusing; you fear your eyes might quite literally pop out of your head.

Zhongli nods, “Indeed, through the power of the adepti, Qiqi was resurrected, though zombies cannot function in the same manner as a mortal–”

“And it’s still outside of the natural order, but we have more important matters to deal with today!”

The Director urges the gentleman behind the counter to finish his explanation of the mysterious occurrences that have been going on within the pharmacy. You try your best to pay attention, though you still have a myriad of questions regarding this newfound information about zombies.

“Well, it started a day or two after Baizhu had left for Sumeru…”

He goes on to explain how their daily inventory numbers no longer match up with the amount of ingredients they’re using in their medicines – ingredients like milk and lavender melons are missing in excess.

“The milk isn’t as big of a deal, but we just had the lavender melons imported from Inazuma and we don’t have another shipment scheduled for a few weeks…” Perspiration settles on the young man’s forehead, his eyes frantically darting between all of you, “There haven't been any strange visitors either, so it has to be the work of a ghost!”

“Milk, you say?” Zhongli grasps his chin between two fingers, appearing lost in thought, “Sir, have you considered asking the only other employee who has access to the back of your store?”

He shakes his head, “Qiqi likes coconut milk, remember–”

“No coconut milk, we ran out. I drink the other milk instead.”

There’s silence for a solid ten seconds, before the one gentleman asks, “What about the lavender melons then?”

“I ate them.”

Silence again.

“Well would ya look at that! We solved the issue in less than five minutes. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor continues to exceed people’s expectations.” Hu Tao claps before deviously rubbing her palms together, “I hope that you will hold yourself to your end of our contract now, yes?”

While the young man meticulously counts a large sum of Mora, you take a glance over at Zhongli and say, “So…that’s it?”

“I suppose so,” he muses, letting out a light chuckle. “Not nearly as exciting as witnessing a ghost, I presume?”

“Actually, I think I can live the rest of my life without seeing a ghost, thanks.”

“Ghosts aren’t that scary! I’ll introduce one to you next time.” Hu Tao turns on her heels, a decent-sized bag of Mora between her polished fingernails, “I’m heading to Wanmin for some dinner, I’ll catch ya later Zhongli!”

She then flickers her gaze onto you, “It was a pleasure to meet you! Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

With that, she’s off. Rushing down the stairs before either of you could respond. After wishing both Qiqi and the rather perturbed young man a good rest of their day, the both of you descend the large staircase, too.

“I’m assuming this ghost hunt was the last thing on your agenda today?” You ask, assuming that if Zhongli had more work on his plate he’d have long since left for the funeral parlor already.

“You would be correct,” he agrees, “I had not anticipated that we would solve their issue within such a short span of time…it’s a tad comical, wouldn’t you think–”

He cuts himself off suddenly, reaching towards you until his fingers hook under the straps of your tote that had begun to roll down your arm. You can only stand in place as he drags it back up and settles it onto your shoulder once more.

“Wow I didn’t even notice…thank you, I’d hate if anything happened to my Kamera the one time I bring it with me.”

“Oh? I recall you mentioning that you own one of those fascinating devices.” Zhongli appears intrigued at the mention of it, eager to see it for himself.

So you slip your hand into your bag, grabbing tightly onto the Kamera and exposing it to his curious stare, “I was actually thinking about taking some photos with it today…would you maybe want to join me?”

“I’d love to,” that tender smile returns to his lips, “though I’m not entirely aware of how they work.”

“My father told me it’s like painting on a canvas, only you can capture any moment in seconds instead of hours. I mostly like taking photos of flowers, though, oh and wildlife.”

Zhongli absorbs the newfound knowledge, listening intently before responding with, “The Yujing Terrace is home to a few native species of flora, allow me to guide us there.”

Once you agree, the two of you are off, walking towards another set of stairs opposite of Bubu Pharmacy. While following his lead your mind begins to wander, more specifically in regards to your aforementioned father. The man who gifted you this Kamera in the first place.

He had gone out of his way to procure one for you a few months after you saw one in use for the first time on a trip to the capital. Citizens were lining the narrow streets to have their portrait taken with the brand-new, exclusive Kamera and shops who were fortunate enough to sell them did so at a fortune.

After relentless pleading on your end, tied together with the promise of taking on extra responsibilities, the device was very soon in your own palms. Funny how only another few months would pass and you’d choose to abandon both your duties and your home altogether.

You start to wonder if the letter you received from Fontaine might be specifically from your father, or someone else from your family’s estate. Ever since the evening you received it, the letter remains tossed aside on your kitchen counter.

If it is in fact your father’s penmanship that decorates the pages, you can already gather what its contents will entail. The same way you begged for the Kamera, he’ll beg for you to return home.

If only it were that easy, if only returning home didn’t equate to tossing aside your freedom in the process–

Thud!

Having been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed that Zhongli stopped in his tracks, not until you collide directly into his back of course. Your complexion blooms with warmth, taking a step back from the tall male just as he turns to face you, asking, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was a bit distracted, sorry about that.” You attempt to wave him off, laughing through the waves of embarrassment.

Unconvinced, his concerned visage never wavers. Rather his eyebrows draw tighter together as he lays a gloved palm over your shoulder, “I won’t pry, but if you require someone to provide an ear, I’m happy to oblige.”

“Thank you, I’ll uh…I’ll keep that in mind,” your fingers curl against the Kamera that you fortunately hadn’t dropped in your daze as Zhongli allows his arm to fall back at his side, remembering the whole reason the two of you trekked up here in the first place.

Glancing around, you take quick notice of how secluded this upper level of Liyue Harbor feels in comparison to the busy main street of Feiyun Slope and the rambunctious crowds of Chihu Rock, “Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?”

The dark-haired male in front of you chuckles before answering, “Yes, you’ll find that Yuehai Pavilion only truly sees heavy traffic when the Tianquan holds her occasional auctions or the Qixing gather for their regularly scheduled meetings. Prior to Rex Lapis’ death, citizens would also congregate here for the Rite of Descension.”

“Rite of Descension?”

He nods, explaining further, “Once a year, Rex Lapis would provide the people of Liyue with a prophecy, a guide if you will of the economic path the people should follow.”

“There’s so much tradition and history in Liyue…” You say more so to yourself. Of course, your nation has its own history, but it feels barren in comparison to all that you’ve learned already from Zhongli.

“For the record,” he captures your attention again, “If you ever find yourself uninterested, feel free to interrupt me. I will not take any offense.”

A frown settles on your lips at his words – though you’ve never been one to dwell too heavily into the subject in the past, you have yet to grow tired of listening to history from the highly knowledgeable consultant.

“I…like listening to you talk actually…” You admit in a quiet murmur, but you know he hears you when a rather large smile overtakes his features.

“That’s quite a relief, I’ve often been told that I put others to sleep when I ramble on about what many consider to be…boring topics.”

Further digging yourself into a hole of abashment, you say, “It’s not boring when it’s coming from you.”

“Ah, you flatter me too much…” Zhongli appears amused, “I am well aware it is not everyone’s cup of tea, but I appreciate your kind words nonetheless.”

It’s not long after that he guides you towards a section of well-manicured grass with colorful flora blooming along it. You first look at the small red bushes, noticing a pair of puffy, pink flowers protruding from them.

Just as you angle your Kamera towards the beautiful arrangement, Zhongli begins to explain what exactly you’re photographing, “These are Silk Flowers, one of many flora native to Liyue. They’re often used to create fabric, though most of that manufacturing is done by the Feiyun Commerce Guild.

“I’ve also been told that they make for a rather saccharine concoction when cooked with Sweet Flowers.”

The shutter of your camera clicks twice and you watch as the printing paper slowly slides out from the small opening at the bottom of the device. You know it takes a moment for the image to fully appear on the special parchment, but Zhongli stares at the blank results with a slight, albeit cute, pout, “Is the device malfunctioning?”

“No, nothing like that, it just takes a few minutes for the photo to show up.”

“Interesting…” He examines the slowly developing photo after you hand one over, gold eyes ignited with innate fascination.

The next flower your eyes land on is on the opposite side of the color spectrum – a pair of soft blue tones decorate the petals of this closed-off plant. While aiming the lens, you quickly learn of this one’s origin, too.

“Glaze Lilies once inhabited the plains of Liyue in great numbers until they were overpicked due to their beauty. The ones that appear to bloom in this harbor are artificially planted; only very few of them can be found within the wild anymore.”

You watch as Zhongli leans over and plucks the Glaze Lily out of the earth, spinning the flower’s stem between his fingers as he examines it further, “One might believe that these are real at first appearance, but the smell is slightly off.”

“The smell? Have you…seen a real one before?” It shouldn’t surprise you at all, but if they’re as rare as he states, you can only imagine the price one would have to pay to get their hands on one.

“A long time ago, yes,” he continues to examine the artificial flower with an unreadable, yet soft expression.

Click!

Zhongli glances up to find the Kamera pointed in his direction as the device slowly pushes out the eventual photograph. A sense of realization washes over you, an apology immediately tumbling from your lips, “Sorry, I should have asked you first–”

“I don’t mind, I’m quite curious to see the results, actually.”

Those results, along with the other photographs you’ve taken this afternoon, wind up fully developing within the next five minutes. By that point, the two of you decided to find a nearby bench to sit on as you watch the color bloom onto the unique paper.

“Truly remarkable,” Zhongli comments as he holds the array of photos between his fingers, “What a wonderful way of capturing memories, I imagine many historians would be interested in such a device as well to preserve and document their findings…”

“In Fontaine, they’re mostly used to photograph friends and family, at least that’s how they advertised it in the capital. It’s so much faster than standing for a painter.” You mention – remembering the gross sweat you broke out in having to dress in multiple layers of your finest clothing for a family portrait.

Although nothing can compare to the artistic styling of one’s own caliber, not having to pose for hours on end is a definite plus in your books.

“Oh, do you want to try using–”

The moment you put the question out there, Zhongli’s already nodding with an unexpected zeal, “I’d love to, after a lesson on how to properly use it, of course.”

You give a quick explanation of the Kamera, watching him fiddle with it between his fingers as you teach him of each component.

Bringing the device up to his complexion to peek through the small, square hole, he immediately points it in your direction and before you even realize–

Click!

“Wait! I didn’t know you were gonna take a photo of me!” You shout, already fearing the results, “I would have smiled or something!”

Zhongli chuckles, grabbing the paper from the Kamera that will eventually have your complexion plastered all over it, “It’s only fair you took one of me earlier, no?”

“Okay, fine.” He laughs once more at the narrowed glance you send his way.

Although you wish for this afternoon to never end, the feeling of your stomach churning in hunger grounds you in reality, “I…should probably get home now and make some dinner, thank you for joining me today, I had fun.”

“It is my honor and as I’ve stated once before, I thoroughly enjoy your company.” Zhongli stands from the bench after handing you back the Kamera, holding out a gloved palm to aid you in standing, too, “Allow me to walk you home.”

As the two of you travel from one end of Liyue Harbor to the other, your mind goes back to your previous thoughts of your family, more specifically the unopened letter. All this talk of Fontaine and your past has you undoubtedly a tad homesick, but you fear that the letter might just play into that.

You continue to teeter back and forth on your decision all the way to your home where Zhongli bids you a good night, promising to bring another book for you to borrow the next time he comes by your job. As he walks off towards the funeral parlor, you notice he takes something out of his pocket to glance down at, but you can’t tell from such a distance what exactly it is.

Once within the confines of your home, you head straight towards the letter that’s gathered a light coat of dust in the week it sat in place. With shaky fingertips, you bite the bullet and remove the royal blue seal, unfolding the paper and gazing down at the handwriting that decorates the page. Here we go…you think, beginning to read the words laid out in front of you.

To My Dearest Child,

I beg of you, please come home…

#zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #zhongli x you #n.writings

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 2 years

Text

Hu Tao domestic HCs

characters: Hu Tao x gn!reader

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: This was a request, but my dumb ass accidentally answered it with something else I did and quickly deleted it afterwards, so to put it in the words of that one movie: "It exists only in my memoriy", so if I got something from the original request wrong, just tell me anon.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Hu Tao

Even though Hu Tao’s usual behaviour would make it very difficult to believe, she was much calmer when at home. Sure, there still were a few pranks every now and then and she couldn’t herself but still act hyperactive most times, but in comparison to the way she usually acted, she was still much more bearable.

Sometimes the two of you would just exchange stories that ranged from funny things that happened to you, to just everyday occurrences, but other times, when you felt confident enough to do so, you would try your hand at writing poetry together, although they almost exclusively ended up as the goofiest pieces of art you had ever read, leaving both of you dying of laughter.

But if there was one thing Hu Tao loved the most, it would be to wait until nightfall, light up the fireplace, at least on days she felt nice and didn’t just leave you sitting in complete darkness, and start telling you horror stories, some of which she had thought of herself, while others were stories you had already heard before, although that never stopped them from being just as scary as the others, since unfortunately for you, Hu Tao proved to be a great storyteller, at least when it came to scary ones.

When you opened the door to your home, Hu Tao was nowhere to be seen. And while that wasn’t an immediate reason for being suspicious, you knew all too well that she had left work early to go home, telling you that she was tired and wanted to get some rest. The way she looked and acted may have supported her story, but at this point you knew her far too well to rule out the possibility of her just putting on an act to prank you when you least expected it. So, you began scanning your surroundings, looking behind every door and corner, only to find her sleeping in bed, like always occupying much more place than her size should be able to allow her. You immediately let your guard down, only to go check if she was really asleep, and while turned out that exhaustion did in fact catch up to her, you found a small note next to the bed, telling you to go and look in the kitchen.

“Wow…”, you couldn’t help but feel amazed once you found what seemed to be your favourite food there, not wasting a moment before taking a portion of it and sitting down to eat it, only to immediately regret doing so once you took the first bite, the mix of unexpected ingredients and terrible taste causing you to spit it out almost immediately.

But just as you wanted to go and grab a glass of water, hoping that it would help getting rid of the crime against humanity committed against your tastebuds, you noticed something being written on the back of the same note from earlier. Oh, don’t eat the food in the kitchen. Unless you want to be get an unexpected surprise :). Of course, it would have been too good to be something normal after all.

You quickly went back to the bedroom, trying your best to put Hu Tao’s arms and legs away in a way where you wouldn’t wake her up, but could still have enough place to lay down yourself, only for a very much awake funeral director to smile at you with a self-satisfied grin.

“Haha, very funny Tao”, you sarcastically stated, only for her to ignore the fact that you were slightly annoyed and start laughing, nonetheless.

“You should have heard the sound you made, eugh-ue”, she imitated you through her laughter, while definitely not exaggerating in the slightest.

“Next time you go home early, I’m coming with you. No matter if you want me to or not. Now move to the side or do you want me to sleep on the floor?”, you decided to not actually give her enough time to answer, already being able to predict what it would be, quickly laying down while forcing her to move that way.

#genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #hu tao x reader #hu tao x you #hu tao x y/n #hu tao #hu tao imagines

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Dead DoveTober Day 12 - Necrophilia

CW: necrophilia, mentions of graphic gore, guess who the dead body is... YOU!, obsessive/yandere tendencies, maggots, mention of cannibalism

You were so beautiful in life and now, in death, your beauty had become something new - otherworldly. You were the embodiment of angels. Your body, no longer the husk of your pure spirit, was still ethereal in itself and he must have it.

This was one of the bare moments in the undertaker's job that made him giddy for his free management of the bodies of the deceased. As long as the face looked fine for the funeral, nobody cared to ask what he did to the bodies.

You were a special circumstance too. Another hapless victim in the ruthless spree of violent murders, your only family facing the blade of the assailant first and then your friends so viciously following them, nobody was jealous of their deaths. You - who was left alone after the atrocities had met your end at the peaceful bottom of a glass of special juice.

The funeral director thought long and hard over the most peaceful death for the angelic you and he settled on Belladonna, Sleeping Death. Just a replacement of those for the blueberries in your smoothie, your swollen mournful eyes didn't care to cast doubt on the rounded berries. This little overlook had led you to sweetly and softly arrive to his table.

He loved to look at you in life and he loved you more in death, for the sole reason that your state now had been his wrought. You had no one to care for the loss of your life now, he made sure of that, so nobody would question his deeming cremation and proper burial method for you. Some random bitch could take your place - or ash from his furnace could fill the box for your name and you could come to his home.

You would be safe and he could finally run his fingers through your hair. He would settle you on the couch, pleasure you and bring you to the edge of elation only to stop and force himself inside of your waiting hole. He would fuck you. Even with how much he loved you, the first time would have too much excitement to go steady and make love. He would fuck into you relentlessly until he came in you and yours and his juices would spill out your hole.

He would fuck you and love you, almost to the point of trying for a child until the maggots spilled out around his dick. If one were to enter his hole while he fucked you, he would feel that it was you shoving a vicious finger into him in sexual revenge of his rough treatment. Just thinking about it now made him nearly piss himself in excitement as the bulge strained against his slacks.

All he could do for now was to run his tongue up and down every inch of your cold and hard flesh in elation. Soon, once it was dark enough, he will bring you home. And when you are too rotten to fuck, he will let you inside of him. He was sure that you would taste just as good as you did now.

#dead dovetober 22 #s0apnsuds #yandere #s0ap's stuff #t0tally-clean #s0apysm1les #dead dovetober #dead dove #murder #cannibalism #cannibal tw #mild gore #gore #necro #tw necrophillia

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chouxtranslations · 11 months

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Shizun 014 - Underworld worker

Jin Yunu wasn’t very powerful. Even amongst skin painting demons he’s quite useless. The fact that he survived to the present day was due to his diligence and this painting. Even if the owner thought something was strange in their house, they wouldn’t think it was connected to the painting, let alone consider destroying it.

In the end, the strongest skin painting demons were taken care of by the sects but he was left alone. After a few centuries he managed to get a little powerful despite having slow progress.

Long Xingbang chose to destroy the painting and save his son.

When the protective glass was finally moved, this famous Haiping city celebrity entrepreneur, big tax tax payer, man of steel who’s experienced all kinds of waves on the market, finally couldn’t hold back the pain in his heart anymore. He held his old friend and bawled as if he was at his son’s funeral.

Director Wang also dabbled in old books and paintings. He was also getting red rimmed seeing the beautiful painting being destroyed.

Lu Yunzhen felt rather a lot of pressure. Out of the most expensive things he’s touched in his life, probably the only one that cost more than the painting are subway trains.

He carefully asked, “Who should do it?”

Long Xingbang didn’t even dare to look. “I’ll leave it to the master”.

No one wanted to to be the criminal who destroyed a national treasure like this. It was painful even for someone who didn’t understand art.

Lu Yunzhen took a deep breath and reached out shakily, taking the painting off the wall. SUddenly, he realized that the drawing was rather thick. It wasn’t a simply scroll, but rather was mounted on a thin piece of Jinsinan wood with a beautiful pattern.

He asked Long Xingbang, “what is this board?”

“It was like this when he bought it from overseas.” Director Wang stepped in to help his friend who was too sadden to speak. “We didn’t know if it was originally like this or if the foreigner added it.... Antique paintings are rather delicate and the wood was also very expensive, so he just left it.”

The skin painting demon was rampaging without hiding its demonic aura. THe entire painting was covered by a dark red malice, floating up from the painting like spierwebs.

Lu Yunzhen was surprised and asked Mo Changkong quietly, “The evil spirit... seems to be underneath the painting?”

“Correct.” Mo Changkong explained seeing his Shizun’s confusion. “The demon’s original body is human skin, and the painting is on silke... of course the skin is hidden under the painting.”

So there was room to turn things around.

Lu Yunzhen had listen to an upperclassman in the Chinese painting club, that the most important part was the heart of the painting. If it can be peeled out then the painting can be restored.

After quietly discussing it with Mo Changkong, he turned to explain the situation to Long Xingbang and suggest a new solution. “We can try to peel off the painting itself, and then try to save him?”

Long Xingbang was stunned for a moment.

“Skin painting demons play with their prey until they’re psychologically exhausted, and then kill them after.” Lu Yunzhen forced himself to press on. “I can monitor the bloodlust coming out from the painting, you two can quickly save the painting. If your son is in danger I will destroy the painting immediately.”

When demons murder they always release a bloody aura.

Both him and Mo Changkong had checked, Long Jingtian is still slive inside... That guy was slept with by the demon for two night and was still lively with no side effects. It seemed he had mental fortitude, and might hold out.

Long Xingbang was overjoyed, “Great, let’s do that!”

It was actually rather difficult. They were basically trying to treat a dead horse as a live horse.

Luckily, director Wang also dabbled in painting and knew the basics of mounting. He realized that the painting was glued around the perimeter to hide the skin inside and not actually attached to the skin. it was relatively easy to separate the layers and he immediately found a tool and started cutting.

Lu Yunzhen monitored the painting with trepidation. If anything went around he would order Mo Changkong to destroy it - he was the only one around who had the heart to do so, after all.

Long Xingbang helped director Wang while hyping up his son, not caring about whether or not his son can even hear him. “JING TIAN! THIS IS YOUR TIME TO SHOW FILIAL PIETY! DON’T BE USELESS! HOLD ON! AFTER THIS DAD’LL BUY YOU A LAMBO! THIS PAINTING IS OUR HUAXIA NATIONAL TREASURE, I’VE THOUGHT THINGS THROUGH AND I’LL DONATE IT TO THE NATIONAL MUSEUM AFTER! YOU HAVE TO PUSH! FOR THE GLORY OF OUR COUNTRY! BE A HERO OF OUR PEOPLE!”

...

Long Jingtian was trembling within the illusion.

When the demon pounced at him he had blacked out. When he opened his eyes again he was in a barren mountain size with the sounds of insects and the wind in his ear.

Long Jingtian look around and called out softly, “Master Lu? Master Mo? Where are you?”

Suddenly, something cold and sticky fell on his face.

Long Jingtian brushed it away, but then realized it was a piece of human skin. He fell to the ground terrified and lifted his head slowly, only to realize that the old ficus tree had countless human skins hanging off its branches. Every skin looked like a skin painting demon, gently dancing in the cold breeze, singing a song he could not understand.

He felt the hairs stand up in the back of his neck and his body was covered in cold sweat. He was so terrified that he could no longer call out. Using his hands to push himself up, he slowly crawled backwards and started running away before the skins could chase him.

The terrifying songs followed him like a shadow.

He stumbled for a long time but despairingly realized that he ended back at the human skin tree. Jin Yunu was sitting amongst the countless skins, looking at him expressionlessly, like a beautiful porcelain doll.

Long Jingtian burst into tears. Between his tears and his snot he begged desperately, “Please, don’t kill me!”

Jin Yunu smiled, and two trails of blood fell from his eyes. He walked towards Long Jian and chanted softly.

“Immoral.”

“Unfaithful.”

“Heartless.”

“Ungrateful.”

“Gongzi lied to me.”

“This one died so badly...”

The cold wind blew and the air was filled with killing intent. The skins flew off the tree one by one, surrounded Long Jingtian like a wall, and cut off his route of escape.

Jin Yunu grabbed Long Jingtian and slowly stroked his face and a strange smile. “This one has realized in bed, gongzi’s skin, is so lovely...”

Sharp nails pierced his skin, bringing with it some pain.

Blood coloured eyes had bloody tears, so red it stung the eye.

“We’ve slept together, don’t kill me!” Long Jingtian screeched. In desperation he remembered how trashy boyfriends apologized, and immediately knelt down with a face of sincerity. “Yunu! I’m wrong! I’ll never lie to you again!”

Jin Yunu paused.

Long Jingtian swore while pointing at the sky and sobbing, “I love you! You’re the person I love the most in the world! I’ll buy you whatever you want, I’ll never look for a master again!”

Jin Yunu’s gaze became cold.

Then, came the pain.

Long Jingtian screamed like a pig being slaughtered.

...

“SON! YOU HAVE TO BE STRONG! BE A MAN! THINK ABOUT THE LAMBORGHINI!” Long Xinbang’s voice was becoming hoarse. “Hold on for a few more seconds! The country and our people will remember your achievements!”

Lu Yunzhen was stressed too. “He’s still alive”.

“It’s good.” Director Wang had sweat spilling down his back, but he finally peeled off the painting. Even though he had an amateur’s hand and damaged the edge of the painting, it was still restorable.

Beneath “Goddess grants painting” was another painting. Normally it would have been oxidized and blackened, but with the efforts of the demon it was still fair and delicate, showing a tattoo of a beauty among peonies.

This is the drawing that was tattooed onto Jin Yunu was still alive. This is what he was flayed to become.

“Is it beautiful?”

Everyone was stunned by the beauty of the drawing for a moment, and was just about to destroy it. But Jin Yunu took the moment to step out of the drawing. He stroked his skin and said nostalgically, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen this drawing.”

“The person in the drawing was me back then...”

“I had performed in the pear garden. My singing was beautiful and shifu told me I was full of talent...”

“I loved to sing and perform, no matter how hard life was, when I stepped onto the stage it wasn’t hard anymore...”

“He said he will sponsor me and make me popular...”

“And then, I became this drawing...”

“When I was dying, it was so painful, so I kept singing...”

“It didn’t hurt as much when I sang...”

With tears in his eyes and under the gaze of everyone in the room, he dragged Long Jingtian from the drawing and threw him onto the ground.

He’s just a useless skin painting demon. Even though he hated, even though he knew it was a lie, his heart softened when he heard an apology.

In his entire life, no one has ever apologized to him before.

...

He could escape a death sentence but he couldn’t escape punishment.

Long Jingtian was beaten so much that he couldn’t open his eyes. His dad could barely recognize this ugly mess of bruises as his son.

“Pops, I heard you.” He struggled to crawl up, grabbed his dad’s shirt, and did his best to open one eyes. Excitedly, he asked, “Are you really buying me a Lamborghini?”

Long Xingbang was angry as hell and wanted to give this embarrassment another slap, but he realized there was no where left to hit. He forcibly dragged him to the sofa and turned around to look at the masters take care of the demon.

Mo Changkong already used his chains to bind Jin Yunu.

Jin Yunu had lowered his head and was awaiting punishment unmovingly.

Everyone felt some pity for him.

Lu Yunzhen didn’t really want to do anything either.

But when a demon hurts a human it can’t be hand waved away by just pity.

Mo Changkong formed a sword from his hand and was about to strike both the demon and the drawing. Half way down he realized something was wrong, remembered some past rules, and withdrew his hand. Frowning, he asked, “Shizun, this demon didn’t kill anyone, are we going to deal with him according to the old rules of Wujian peak?”

Everyone was confused.

“Of course we should follow the rules.” Lu Yunzhen was confused, but he had to keep up pretenses. Smiling, he continued, “Changkong, you should explain to everyone else.”

“This is a rule that Shizun had set a long time ago.” Mo Changkong bowed, thought for a while, and tried to string his words together. “Demons are both evil, there are very few who can resist their innate desire for blood. It is very difficult for them, and they should be given the chance to live... So, Shizun will send a chenqing letter to the underworld, then bring them back to the sect. Supervise them, lecture them, help them accumulate karma, then pass them along for reincarnation.”

Ha? What kind of rules did he set?

How does he go to the underworld?

Does the sect mean his house?

Lu Yunzhen’s smile was frozen.

Jin Yunu’s eyes shone and he kow towed over and over again in gratitude, assuring the others that in all his years the most he’s done was trick some bad men and steal some yang essence, that he had never killed anyone.

Long Xingmang exclaimed, “What a kindness.”

Director Wang praised, “How merciful.”

Long Jingtian rubbed at his face and was distraught. He wanted to ask about the matter of Jin Yunu doing the unspeakable rules with him and if he could beat Jin Yunu up to feel better. But he was worried about his father taking back the Lambourghini and even more worried that Jin Yunu would hit him instead, so he didn’t dare to voice his thoughts and pouted instead.

Luckily, Mo Changkong didn’t actually want Lu Yunzhen to die and go to the underworld, simply that he should write a letter...

How the hell was he going to write this letter?

Lu Yunzhen felt silly, like a duck on a shelf... He grabbed a piece of paper from a copier, found a ballpoint pen, chewed it up while deliberating, then simply wrote 1 line. “I found a skin painting demon named Jin Yunu, he didn’t do anything bad, would the underworld take him?”

Mo Changkong found a flower pot for him to burn the letter in.

The whole thing felt more and more ridiculous.

If it wasn’t for Jin Yunu’s profuse gratitude giving Long Xingbang and co some confidence, they would have thought this was the act of a conartist.

Lu Yunzhen burned the paper anxiously.

Flame burst up, the whole thing immediately turned to ash, and then nothing happened.

Lu Yunzhen thought he had messed up and starting thinking of an excuse to take Jin Yunu somewhere else to take care off. He didn’t want Long Jingtian to complain about him not finishing the job, be angry about being beaten up, and take the 3000 yuan back.

Suddenly, a cold wind blew...

The chenqing letter didn’t get a response, but an actual underworld official came. He even dragged with him some clawed and fanged evil spirit in a soul hooking chain, seeming all the world like someone who rushed over while in the middle of another task.

In order for the other men to perceive him in the illusion, Jin Yunu had temporarily opened their yinyang eyes, allowing them to see the supernatural. Now, the three see it all.

“Hello, great immortal.” The underworld official shot Lu Yunzhen a sunny smile, showing 8 smokey yellow teeth. He kept on nodding and bowing. “I’m under the command of the Hepan palace, Wang Laosi for Haiping city Changle district Fuqiang street. I received your letter and was worried that things might be unclear and cause you some inconvenience, sir. So I am here at your beck and call.”

Long Xingbang thought the scene was very familiar.

This is exactly how his employees act towards him when they’re trying to butter him up for a promotion.

#shizun #feng yu nie

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inthenextchapter · 2 years

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Controversial Fame - Chapter 1

When Mila Jordan meets her long-time celebrity crush Nicholas Whitmore, she understands why people say you're better off without meeting your idols.

But Nick surprises her by showing glimpses of the maturity he should possess, being older than her - only to turn around and act like men half his age, going from one girl to the other at every party they meet. Contrary to what most - even Nick - believe, Mila doesn't mind. In fact, she envies him: after losing her husband and being propelled to fame for the eulogy she performed at his funeral, she's sure she'll never fall in love again. So she's determined to learn the art of casual relationships so she won't spend the rest of her life alone.

What happens when Nick offers to be the one to teach her how to be in a physical relationship without emotional attachment?

Will Nick be prepared to realize the student overcame the master?

I looked around, trying not to outright stare at the faces of the people I’d only ever seen in magazines and movie screens before tonight. I’d spent my entire life daydreaming about them - what they were like in their private lives, what kind of stuff kept them up at night…

Was that director really going to give that forgotten actor another chance, now that he was out of rehab? And what the hell happened to that cute guy that sang in a boyband when I was a teenager?

Were all of my childhood fantasies truly just… casually strolling around, cocktail glasses in their manicured hands, Louboutins in their non-blistered ankles?

I always thought it was fun to fantasize. Imagine what they were like in their day-to-day lives, when there were no cameras around, no need to seem or look perfect to anyone who didn’t talk to them on a daily basis.

There was a peculiar kind of agony - a delicious sort of pain - that came with the activity. Knowing that these people inspired me so much, motivated me even, and yet I’d never know what it was truly like to be amongst them. To roam the same halls their designer dresses flittered by, that incandescent million-watt smile gracing whomever was in their way.

It must be so easy, living a life where there was no need. What could someone like them possibly desire? One snap of their fingers and they had it - their dream job, house or partner. What wouldn’t anyone give to be like them?

But to me, there always seemed to be another side to the otherwise shiny and perfect lives Hollywood celebrities got to live. It was a personal sense of peace, one that accompanied the major FOMO everytime I realized I was nowhere near becoming famous.

The comfort of knowing my every move mattered only to a select group of people. That no one outside of my social circles cared if I was hurting or vulnerable, angry or sad.

Sure, at times, it was a bit depressing, too. Everyone wants to feel loved, I guess, and being a celebrity feels like achieving that goal to the maximum: your face being known everywhere, the entire world could fall head over heels for you.

But it all came with a price, and sometimes, my everyday life was too much of a heavy load, already. Knowing that I carried the potential to hurt or uplift those that mattered most to me. Knowing they depended on me, to some degree.

I couldn’t begin to wonder how it must feel for them… when a simple smile or tear could make careers or break brands or deals, make someone’s day or break their heart.

So I guess it was understandable, how I was just standing at this corner, trying not to make eye contact with anyone in particular, now that I was surrounded by goddesses and gods I’d never even conceived I’d meet in real life.

But this was real life. This was my life now, and by the looks of it, Rachel wouldn’t ever let me forget it.

“You know, when I invited you to come to this party, I expected you would be at least a little bit timid.” I rolled my eyes dramatically, hiding my grin behind the bottle of beer she managed to find the second we walked through the doors of this expensive mansion together.

“You haven’t been in L.A. for long and this is the first time I managed to convince you to leave that damn hotel room. A bit of social awkwardness is natural, necessary even.” She continued, not taking any notice of how funny I found her concern.

“But standing in the corner, watching over everyone like a hawk takes your shyness from endearing directly into creepy, I hope you know that.” My smile dropped and it was hard to stop myself from cringing. I wasn’t too sure of my success when I lifted my gaze from what seemed to be the former child star of a sitcom I watched after school doing a keg stand with the help of a well-known athlete and met Rachel’s gaze to find he with her eyebrow cocked, one hand on her hip as she stared me down.

Lord, was I really that awful?

I forced a smile in the hopes to ease the situation, reaching out to accept the new bottle of beer she offered me as I discarded my empty one. We clicked the bottoms in a silent toast and I immediately raised it to my lips, hoping the alcohol would finally kick in and help ease some of this tension in my shoulders.

I didn’t tell her that I wasn’t shy. I was beyond grateful for her insistence in forging a friendship with me despite my awkwardness. I knew I’d done the right thing by coming to this party. I just didn’t know what to do now that I was here.

It’s not like I have anything interesting to offer to a conversation between the guy whose poster watched over my sleep during all of my teenage years and the woman my husband used to compare me to when he was still alive.

Sorry, ex-husband.

Late husband?

Fuck.

Taking another swig of my beer, I pondered about the reality I was living in now.

When that video was posted eight months before, I had no idea I’d become a viral sensation, the object of a heated, ruthless dispute between multiple labels.

I didn’t think I’d have my entire future rewritten from what I’d always expected it to be.

And still, here I was. Living the dream, as they’d say, in L.A., of all places. It didn’t matter that it had never actually been a dream of mine.

It didn’t matter that I hated the city and everything it represented.

Sure, it had been fun to fantasize - and I’d done a hell of a lot of that as a teen. But at 28… There was an obvious reason as to why I’d never shown my songs to anyone. Well, anyone other than Tony.

He loved them so much, he kept insisting I should pursue a career in music. But he loved me, so it was easy for him to be blindsided by this little hobby of mine… I didn’t think I had enough talent or luck to break into the industry.

But I guess some god or goddess upstairs decided I had enough bad luck for a lifetime.

Perhaps I should feel guilty. Here I was, finally following my husband’s desire after he was gone, but he was precisely the reason for it. He was my motivation and my inspiration. I’d never wanted this - I didn’t even know how to deal with any of it. The fame, the fans, the weight of being known everywhere I went…

I was doing it all for him. I was living out the life he wanted me to live, because it was better than standing in the shadows of what our life together had been - before his diagnosis.

I just wish he was still around in some way or another. Not because I regretted not pursuing this while he was alive. Even though I was sure he’d be over the moon with my success, the worst part of “living the dream” without my soulmate was how badly I still needed him to be here.

He’d always had an excellent bullshit radar. Without it, I felt like I was blindly throwing myself at the hands of who seemed nicest, hoping I’d be able to figure out who to trust in this beast of an industry before they tore me apart.

“... Earth to Mila… Are you even listening to me?” Blinking back to the present, I grimaced to my friend who just rolled her eyes affectionately at me. We might not have known each other for long, but I was sure she was one of the good ones. The way she so sweetly accepted my amateurishness and never made fun of me - even though she still called me out for it - seemed like a testament to just how well I was sure we’d continue to get along.

“I swear, it’s like you’re not even trying to have fun.”

It was a fair assumption, even though I’d find a way to argue it wasn’t all that correct. I wanted to have fun. Of course, I did. I wasn’t a masochist or anything - I wouldn’t choose to spend my Friday night doing something I absolutely hated, but I had no idea how one suddenly starts having fun at these sorts of gatherings. And I bet the panicked look I sent her showed her just how overwhelmed I felt because, with a soft sigh, she took my hand in hers and gently pulled me away from the safety of my hiding spot, in the corner of a stranger’s living room mansion, and guided us towards the backyard.

Although I wasn’t too sure something with a fountain bigger than my apartment could really be considered a backyard.

There were significantly fewer people sprawled around the perfectly green grass, gathered in small groups. It was clear everyone here knew one another and was more interested in making conversation than grinding against someone else - as was the case for the people I’d been observing inside the house.

Not that I had anything against that other way of passing the time, specifically…

I looked down at Rachel and my interlaced hands, and I had another one of those oh-shit moments of realization. This was Rachel. Rachel Farrel was holding my hand. The same woman I’d religiously watch in every new episode of my favorite tv series, now considered me a friend and was currently dragging me towards a group of people who were her friends…

Which apparently included Nicholas Whitmore, my all-time celebrity crush.

Oh, shit, oh, fuck.

“Hey, everyone!” I was sure my eyes looked as wide as plates when her call for attention was acknowledged, and I had to bite down on my lower lip to resist the urge to duck and run. “This is Mila! We met on the shoot for her first music video.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Jesse Reyes (gasp!) pointed at me, a smirk on his handsome face as the realization sparked on his brown eyes. “You’re that girl… who sang her own version of Hallelujah, right?”

Clearing my throat, I smiled gratefully at him as I nodded, taking advantage of the fact that Rachel had at last released my hand to rub it against my jeans in the hopes of getting rid of my nervous sweat.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He winked at me before returning to whatever the topic had been before we interrupted, and I was deeply grateful for how quickly he was able to swerve away from the awkward title I was usually recognized for.

I didn’t want to be “that-girl-who-became-famous-for-singing-at-her-husband’s-funeral” forever.

“Hallelujah, huh?” I looked up to find Nicholas staring, a smirk on his lips as he took a sip from the bottle of beer that he held. “So, Mila…” The way he pronounced my name had butterflies setting flight inside my belly, but I didn’t have the time to give them any attention. “Are you like… an angel?”

The snort that left me at the question was anything but graceful. I could feel my face burning as the mortification set in, and the laughter that flowed freely from my spectators only added to the feeling.

“Uh… no,” I assured him once the shock from the unexpected sound left me. Rachel’s friends (and herself) were still giggling, but I could see it was from the unexpectedness of the event - and for that, I couldn’t really blame them. “I’m nowhere near an angel. Trust me.”

It was only once one of his eyebrows curled up that I realized what I’d said sounded like a challenge - one I had no intention to pursue. “Jesus…” I muttered under my breath, trying to find some comfort in the man my mother adored so much, despite how much I’d cursed him in the last year or so.

Considering my (lack of) luck (not to mention the absence of whatever grace I used to possess when fraternizing with people), Nicholas heard me call out for help from above. Even worse? So did everyone else, and more laughter spilled from the animated group at my discomfort.

Guess I was the light of the party, after all?

“Well, color me intrigued.” His words snapped me out of my embarrassment, and I was able to meet his gaze only to find something dangerously hypnotizing in his blue hues - something so familiar and yet so new it had my stomach turning, a shudder running down my spine under the dim light that the moon casted over us in the garden.

… What the fuck was happening?

“I’m Nick, by the way.” He offered me his hand and I mindlessly went over the proper motions, offering my own to shake his all while trying not to freak out or show any particular reaction over the prospect of touching Nicholas Whitmore so I wouldn’t end up mortified and unable to ever attend a Hollywood party again.

When he turned my palm around and leaned over, pressing a kiss to the back of it while maintaining eye contact, I knew I would fail in that endeavor. The lopsided smirk he sent my way had my stomach flipping, and both him and I knew I was screwed.

I could hear my heartbeat louder than the bass from the music playing inside. Avoiding my mouth from hanging open and revealing just how affected I was by this encounter was the furthest thing from my mind.

“Careful with that one, Mila…” Rachel’s voice reached me through the fog of desire that had unexpectedly clouded my vision. “He might be the life of every party, but that’s pretty much his only redeeming quality.”

Snickers were heard all around, and when Nick straightened himself up, brushing the strands of hair that had fallen over his face back again, it was clear he took no offense to her words.

He was comfortable with the idea his friends had of him, even though it wasn’t a flattering one.

Clearing my throat, I took a sip of my beer to help me push away the warm pit of desire that had bristled to life at feeling his touch on me. It was the first time in almost a year since I’d felt this way, and despite the happiness that flowed through my veins upon realizing I wasn’t dead, it wasn’t necessarily how I imagined it would go.

“I don’t know…” I mused, avoiding his eyes as I addressed my friend, knowing everyone else was paying attention to us. “He does play one hell of a make-out scene. But I suppose that could be his co-stars acting, after all.”

As Rachel’s friends exploded in a fit of laughter, I smiled as her hand clutched my arm for support as she doubled over in laughter. A smile - a real smile, not that fake, practiced one I’d been using all the time - painted my lips, and the small seed of belonging started to blossom inside of me.

“Fuck, you’re funny.” Marcus Royce wiped away tears from the corners of his eyes, shaking his head at me. The entire thing was so different from the persona I was used to seeing associated with his expression - the character he played in the sitcom that Rachel starred in was barely even human, with his cold eyes and inability to smile. “You’re gonna fit right in with our group, just you wait.”

Rachel took advantage of his opening to introduce me to the rest of the gang. Besides her and Nick, Jesse Reyes - Nicholas' best friend - was there, alongside Marcus Royce and Johanna Biles (actress, model, and all around a hottie).

“There are some other people who we consider part of our little group who aren’t here. You’ll meet them in time,” Rachel reassured me, but it was an unnecessary preoccupation. To be accepted by these people already meant a lot to me.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had a group of friends to rely on, and now that my life had been turned upside down, in more ways than one, having someone to trust was essencial.

I knew I could trust Rachel, and if she trusted these people, I was one step closer to leaving that lasting loneliness back in my past.

That’s why I didn’t see the point in trying to hide the fact that being a part of their group delighted me, but no one seemed to think less of me for not faking coolness, thankfully.

Maybe they really were the people I should hang around.

“So…” I almost choked on my beer when I realized the conversation had moved onto something I didn’t follow, and Nick seemed to consider it was the perfect opportunity to approach me. “You’re familiar with my movies.”

I didn’t miss the way he looked me up and down. There was undeniable lust in his eyes and it made me feel like I was something he wanted to devour but in all honesty? I couldn’t say I didn’t like it.

It’s not every day that you get to meet your celebrity crush and actually manage to catch their attention. I wasn’t about to complain. Guilt, however, was like a bucket of ice cold water thrown over that tiny little ember that’d dared to come alive upon meeting Nick, and in a second, the thrill of being noticed disappeared from my tired body.

I wasn’t ready to entertain any kind of male attention just yet, and I was pretty sure that’d be the case for a long while. To top it all off, Nicholas Whitmore, with his easy smirk and sparking eyes, was probably the last man I should consider entertaining.

“Who isn’t?” I opted for nonchalance, drinking my beer as I watched him approach, his back blocking the rest of the gang from our conversation while I was cornered against one of the walls of the mansion.

His laugh had butterflies erupting in my stomach, but I refrained from looking into his eyes again - even when he took one step closer, hand going over my shoulder to find balance on the way against which I held myself up.

“You know, it really is nice to meet you.” I could only nod, not interested in the slightest (or so I told myself) in getting lost in the sea that was his gaze, at that moment hyper focused on me. “I saw your video. You might not be one, but you sure sing like an angel.”

There was no need for a mirror. I knew exactly the impact of his words, uttered in that low voice so close to me I shivered. I didn’t question his closeness, even though we were practically strangers to one another. I knew he’d use the excuse provided by the crowds around us. And I knew he could see the effect that he had on me, too.

It was only expected, considering he was an entire decade older than me. I was sure that experience with the opposite sex’s reaction to his moves wasn’t something he lacked.

Before he could do anything about it though, a heavy hand settled on his shoulder, pulling him away from me - and just like that, we were back into the group’s conversation.

“Man, lay off her,” Marcus teased him. “She’s too good for you, anyway. You know who she’d be perfect for? Tom.”

It was miniscule, but I did catch a reaction from Nick. A dark cloud seemed to turn the blue in his eyes almost gray-ish, and he immediately took a couple of steps back, but not before throwing me another smile - this one nowhere near a smirk.

“You’re right.” Nodding, his gaze settled on me as if evaluating my qualities. I shifted in my position, but weirdly, I wasn’t uncomfortable with his attention. “She would be perfect for him.”

For whatever reason, I got the impression that he didn’t consider those words to be complimentary, but that didn’t seem to diminish the… curiosity he felt about me.

“Hey, Nick!” Another unfamiliar voice called from outside our semi-circle, and we all turned to see that a woman had approached us, clearly hoping to catch the attention of the man standing next to me. Blonde and tall, her gray-blue eyes were laser-focused on Nick as she confessed, not at all bothered by our interest in their conversation, “I heard you were coming to this party. Figured I’d check in on you.”

The change in his body language was immediate. Standing up straighter, Nicholas rolled his shoulders back and tilted his head, scanning her entire body as another smirk painted his features.

This one had ‘predatory’ written all over it.

“Cynthia! It has been a while, hasn’t it?” I watched with fascination as he rubbed his beard, openly checking her out once more before throwing a look over his shoulder, at his friends. He winked at Marcus, who barely managed to muffle a laugh just as Nick pounced, closing the space between him and the stranger, an arm easily finding home around her waist as he pulled her closer to him - and dragged her away from us.

“Let’s find a more private place to catch up, hm? What do you say?”

I didn’t need to see her expression to know this was everything she’d been hoping for when she decided to interrupt our conversation. Her infatuated giggles said as much, and I followed along, chuckling under my breath and shaking my head as I turned towards Rachel.

I didn’t even need to say anything - “That’s Nick,” my friend shrugged, easily occupying the space he’d left as she wrapped her arm over my shoulder and pulled me to her. “Stay away from him,” she jokingly insisted, and I laughed awkwardly.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Still, as I tried to inconspicuously look back into the house, where I’d been and where Nick and Cynthia disappeared into, I couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like - to be so into someone for a single evening, relying on another person’s body to get you to that unbelievable high just to pass the time, and then leave the next morning, as if nothing had ever happened.

Would I ever be able to do that?

#original wriing #original fiction #original characters #writing #tropes #celebrity #romance #fiction romance #original #words #relationship #lit #prose #spilled ink #love #writers #i love you #currently reading #books and libraries

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