Dangerous Fellows Character X Reader

La Luna De Sangre (Eugene AU)

A little bit of lemon.... but we don't wander in the nether regions.
Yandere Eugene, I think.
If you want a lemon part 2... just scream in the comments and I'll work on it.

**PLEASE READ
Starting this month (June) until the end of September 2021 I will publish bi-monthly instead of weekly because I have a lot of work that I need to finish.

Anyways... Thanks to Makie_ for translating the title for me. ♥️

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The chilly breeze of the late October evening brushed past your silky (h/c) hair as your eyes wandered about the expanse of the serene scenery laid out before you; taking in the view of the silent barns where lively morning time animals rest, the peaceful fields that townsfolks work on all day, and the slowly but purposefully moving watermill near the edge of a shallow river that helps turn agricultural produce into marketable items.

The look of each night within this small village has always been picturesque in your eyes. And it has always been a view that you loved to take in before starting a new day. It was so beautiful, in fact, that it brought a content smile to come playing at your lips and an air of calmness to fill your being as you sat on a lone Oak tree from a satisfying distance.

In your peace and elation you began humming a tune from a time long past; one that is soft and slow - somewhat similar to a lullaby that a mother sings to her child at night - and it glazed over the stillness of the surroundings; floating well above the melodic songs of crickets and other nighttime fauna.

It was truly a perfect evening. Something any person would be enjoy basking upon after a long day of hardship and endeavours.

But you knew that for this point in time, no one would be willing to brave the outdoors. For the superstitious residents of this sleepy little town believed that as ethereal as the sight was, the hazy, blood red beam of the moon that cascaded down like a soft curtain meant that danger has every license to lurk in corners and encase within its vicious claws any being unfortunate enough to cross its path.

"They all believe in a bunch of myth. What does the red moon have to do with danger? The world is a dangerous place with or without that strawberry light." You muttered sharply, feet swinging forward and back and fingers gripping tightly onto the splintered wood as a feeling of irritation swelled up inside you.

But then you realised that your anger amounted to nothing and willed yourself to a calm, puffing your chest and sighing one last time before resuming your own little moment of admiration over the surroundings.

If the older generation refuse to let their families go out during such a fine evening because of a legend that no one could even prove, then it's their loss. Not my problem.

You moved your gaze over to the northern side of the village; the area where homes were built and residents return to after their day and eyed each windows and doors as though searching for something only you would understand.

The houses looked comfortable and warm.

Homes are strikingly more architecturally sound nowadays with foundations and frames crafted using only the sturdiest of wood and metal that homeowners could get their hands on.

It was so much different from the time when people used dried mud and dung for walls, straws and other types of vegetation for the roof, and some kinds of branches for doors. And they had used that type of dwelling for centuries.

What were they called again? Thatching?

You have no clue how they worked back then, but it certainly wouldn't do good now. Unless improvisation was to be done and other reliable materials would be added to enforce the structure and make it stronger. For example, metal.