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#national look alike day
murderousink23 · 1 year
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04/20/2023 is National Lima Bean Respect Day 🇺🇲, National Look Alike Day 👬🇺🇲, National Pineapple Upside Down Day 🍍🇺🇲, Weed Day 🇺🇲, National High Five Day ✋🇺🇲, Chinese Language Day 🇺🇳
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subby-sab · 7 days
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Today is 20th of April.
Today is Chinese Language Day, National Look Alike Day, National Cheddar Fries Day, Record Store Day.
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tearskillstardust · 5 months
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; WHAT GOT THESE GENSHIN MEN GETTING SO DESPERATE FOR YOU?
NSFW; 18+ content and themes ahead, minors DO NOT INTERACT.
all legally aged genshin men; interacting with the following content is a free choice for all readers. the author does not take any responsibility for the repercussions. fem! reader.
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— GENSHIN MEN WHO DON'T THINK YOU LOOK AT THEM ENOUGH. who could identify you solely by touch should they ever be blinded someday because of the way they stare at you whenever they can— they study every dip, every dimple, mark and imperfection on your features and body alike and can't get over how beautiful you are. who think that you don't stare at them the same way and complain to you about it one day, looking akin to a little child complaining to his mother about why she wouldn't kiss him to sleep.
— men who cock a brow, hiding their shyness when you laugh at their words and shake your head, as though you simply can't believe they think that. who agree with a smirk when you challenge them— both of you try to put eyeliner on your eyes in the style of the others.
— men who apply your eyeliner perfectly on their eyes but mix up the colours a bit— the blue a bit dull and lighter. who simply are left awestruck when you mix the perfect shades and apply it just as smoothly on your eyelids, the colour suiting your soft skin and bright eyes. who can't help but stare with their jaw hanging at you when you smile at them knowingly.
— men who get so turned on they just can't help themselves from pressing kisses all over your shoulders and leave marks where they deem just perfectly visible, but stop themselves from seeing the act till the end— knowing that your tears would erase the perfect artwork and wait patiently till the night, filled with lust and desire; immediately pouncing on you behind closed doors while you can just laugh and tease them, ruffling their hair with an affectionate kiss.
al haitham, neuvillette, wanderer, zhongli, kazuha
— GENSHIN MEN WHO HAVEN'T TOUCHED YOU FOR WEEKS. who have been crazy busy with work and the endless paperwork that comes with their post. who suddenly find their success in their job more a hindrance in between the two of you rather than a star on their immaculate reputation. who get even more impatient when they are suddenly posted to another nation entirely for a few weeks.
— men who try to postpone the program by a day or two and spend some spare time with you but fail when it's revealed it's a work of great importance. who would like to cave someone's face in when it's revealed that a diplomat had messed up and unnecessary complications had risen and any delay would be fatal for their inter-nation ties.
— men who get disappointed when you deny them intimacy in the bed, telling them that they need rest to be able to leave in the early morning. who try to pull you back but simply can't deny your command when you push them back to bed, pulling the covers over them and sleeping in the guest room, realizing they will definitely try to start something if you sleep next to them. who send letters to you the entire time they are outside, unable to function properly without your touch and kisses.
— men who get all over you as soon as they return. who control themselves from looking at you too much lest another unholy thought invade their mind and they have to excuse themselves. who love the passion with which you kiss them back as soon as they have you all to themselves— who genuinely can't engage in foreplay out of desperation and make sure to cover your mouth this time, lest you put another restriction of morality or people on them.
aether, ayato, childe, xiao, capitano, gorou
— GENSHIN MEN WHO LOVE YOUR WITTY BANTERS. who are born assholes and love annoying you to no end— and are obsessed with the way you answer them right back in the same tone. who love the glint of annoyance in your eyes when they talk non-stop about the most idiotic things or mutter nonsense in your ear as you're trying to do something but manage to say nothing for at least half an hour, hoping they'll grow tired and leave.
— men who love that warning side-eye you pass after a while, visibly fuming with anger. who talk louder after that and reply quickly with an annoying comeback when you say something. who laugh at your tired look. who genuinely want to tuck your hair behind your ears but know you will snap their finger should they try.
— men who expect you to give another clever little comeback just so that they can say more nonsense and piss you off, just to rile you up a little more— but when you take none of their shit and pin them down on the ground, hands circling their neck and knee parting their legs, they are shaded a deeper shade of crimson, pretending as though this is not what they had been secretly fantasizing since the past five days. who lose it when you are about to do them undone but leave halfway, that devilish smirk on your features as you wink at them and leave, fully aware they can't bring themselves pleasure the way you do.
itto, heizou, kaveh, lyney, venti
— GENSHIN MEN WHO CAN'T HELP BUT TURN TO LOOK AT YOU. who think they are a genius for having picked out that particular piece for you, and then deciding that if it were in shades of green and pink it would look prettier. who then passed by a jewellery shop and spotted that diamond choker necklace and fantasized about you in it—twisting and turning with flittering mischief as you often do; the diamond's shine enhanced by your glittering smile. who then pick out that earring from a remote box in the corner and ask you to wear it.
— men who don't mean to make you that red and shy but who genuinely can't stop complimenting you. who stare at you from head to toe and then back from toe to head. who now feel jealousy over all the other people who get to stare at your beautiful self and thirst over you because that right is only theirs. who press you back down against the dressing table and make out with you before you can apply the lipstick and you have to push them back, laughing when their hands start reaching for your chest.
— men who glare at anyone who looks at your way for more than a minute. who lick their lips and try not to let their thoughts show on their body. who hold themselves back from letting any image of the wild night in store for you today solidify in their head. who smile knowingly when you make direct eye contact with them and you have to look away, covering your ears.
— men who tie you to the bed post as soon as the moment is perfect, their lips on your pulse, your nape, your shoulders—their lips everywhere as they slowly strip every clothing off of you all but your necklace and earrings, teasingly slow until you beg them to go quicker and they compensate for it in their thrusts, their desire overwhelming your senses until you're left crying their name out unintelligibly.
diluc, wriothesley, pantalone, dainsleif, baizhu
— GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOU'VE BEEN TEASING THEM the whole day. who ignore it when you kiss them right on the lips and accidentally brush your chest against their hand. who also ignore it when you bow down right in their face to pick up a pillow. who also ignore it when you sit on their lap, almost grinding against their thigh. but who really can't ignore it when you smile suggestively at them and they can't contemplate it anymore, simply smirk back in return.
— men who know how to hold themselves back and tease you. who kiss you at that one spot near your shoulder blade that has you squirming every time. who trap you when you're washing the utensils and brush against you, leaving you to contemplate their act. who have no problem giving you what you want— but where's the fun if you don't have to beg for it?
— men who watch your actions the whole day, laughing when you pout slightly at them. who kiss you and maintain eye contact expectantly and you get them right away, and with great shame, beg them to touch you. and then all of a sudden— a switch flips and they pin you down, one hand on your waist, and the other pinning your wrists down, ensuring you don't move. who hungrily devour you and you take it, equally desirous of the taste of lust.
— who go agonizingly slow initially, forcing you into silence as they remind you of all the occasions in the day you tried to seduce them— and make you admit it, that yes, i did and i'm sorry for it. who smirk then, and suddenly increase their pace, making you scream in pleasure as you hold on to their arms for support. men who are just as generous with their aftercare, teasingly dragging their fingertips across your sensitive skin, something that almost always leads to a second round. not that you can complain when they please you that well though.
albedo, kaeya, cyno, tighnari, dottore
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sunboki · 1 month
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— ENDLESS WINTER. a Christopher Bahng fiction
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Christopher Bahng x f. reader
TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst
WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing
WORD COUNT. 12k words
AUG'S NOTES. if there’s ever been a more spontaneous fic in history it would be this… every sentence is write is purely self indulgent…. (genuinely a written version of the stories i make in my head while laying in bed)
SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.
alternatively :
Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.
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Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.
Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.
Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.
Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.
She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.
Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.
Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.
Growing, learning.
Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.
However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.
A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.
Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.
Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.
Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.
Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.
The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.
The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.
Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.
Had been peaceful.
A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.
Your blood runs cold.
Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.
Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.
Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.
A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.
Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.
Smell.
Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.
So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.
Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.
Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.
Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.
Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.
It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.
Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.
It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.
Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.
For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.
You won’t leave, simple.
As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.
That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.
Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.
Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.
Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.
Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.
A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.
Shoot!
The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.
However, your success is short-lived.
Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.
Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.
First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.
Beast.
With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.
This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.
“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.
His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.
The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.
Mage.
Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.
His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.
“One remained, huh.”
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It’s a fever dream walking into the Kingdom that, compared to yours, looks positively flourishing with life. Beasts of all kinds roam about, carrying on with their daily lives, oblivious to the winds of death they’ve swept your way.
Everything in your body feels as if it’s shutting down, unable to feel the sensation of your legs as you trudge forward, the younger, much kinder Beast ensuring you kept pace.
Freezing temperatures carry on the longer snow falls, gluing strands of hair to your forehead, blanketing your lashes while your nose runs incessantly.
In front of you now lies the castle, far grander than you could’ve ever imagined. Twin spires peek above the low-hanging clouds, stone columns towering above.
From your distance you spot two knights positioned on either side of the entryway, large armored helmets with hawk feathers adorning the ridges.
One knight stops your ascent, the light-haired man rolling his eyes profusely.
“Minho, this is important.”
“Important enough you’re bringing a Mage into the Kingdom?”
His voice smooth as honey, he sports a dominant tone when speaking. Stare observant, he watches the other Beast’s expressions with uncanny precision.
“Because if you haven’t noticed Hyunjin,” He leans forward a bit, whispering. “You have the entire Kingdom’s attention.”
At this, either of the Beasts who escorted you turn around, and upon doing so are met with hundreds, if not thousands of eyes boring into their soul. Whether it’s younger Beasts or aged soldiers, those heinous vermillion orbs seem to see through you.
You gulp.
“C’mon,” Hyunjin harshly beckons, nudging you forward through the gates with the younger quick on his tail.
Every color in the Palace is monochromatically grey, although strikes of royal blue reside in large drapes hung from perched balconies.
Similar guards to those outside sift throughout the room, familiar hawk feathers litter everywhere in sight, paving paths to the core of the room where a throne sits.
Pointed edges flank either side of the massive chair, the ocean blue rug underneath reflecting up and out of the ceiling — a glass design stretching wide across the throne room, emphasizing the dusky weather outside.
According to the younger Beast whose title you learned as Jeongin, the King was currently participating in a hunt with Changbin (the lead hunter of the Palace), so after hasty appreciation of the sheer volume of this breathtaking castle, you’re forced toward the dungeons.
Jeongin wears a pitying frown, promising to return with some food to your chambers in the case the King doesn’t arrive for a while.
At least someone in this Kingdom doesn’t insist you’re beheaded.
“Finally, somebody else is here.”
A voice erupting from the darkening depths to your right make you jump, chained wrists clanging abruptly. Through minimal lighting of the burning lamps hastened upon the walls, you make out the silhouette of a man, face bunching in a sweet manner when he smiles.
Unusually, his hands aren’t chained.
“What’re you in here for?” You begin, gaze narrowed in confusion. The chubby-cheeked stranger smiles haphazardly.
“I would ask you the same thing. I’m the King’s Advisor, he just gets tired of me and puts me in here sometimes,” Your chamber-mate sighs, and once you take in what he professed, the urge to laugh becomes too strong to control.
Laughing for the first time in quite a while is sort of relieving, especially when this new acquaintance of yours begins whining his dismay, aimlessly trying to hush your giggles.
Red eyes. You can see them blinking up at you, gleaming when he grins his pointed teeth.
Quickly pausing, you wait in horror as he gradually sniffs in.
Your stomach sinks.
“Wait… You’re a Mag—“
His phrase is cut off by a loud ringing noise, a familiar echo of keys tunneling down the dungeons stairwell.
Another stranger unlocks the door. He’s burly, with curly hair in disarray. Cuffs of animal fur wraps around defined biceps, his top a tight-fitted arrangement of fur and woven leather paired with small iron spikes studding the shoulder lining.
A scar passes down the corner of his lip, long since healed but remaining faded.
“C’mere,” He ushers, voice gruff and rumbling when he unlocks your shackles, big hand pushing you forward up the stairs.
If anybody here had pure Beast in their bloodline, it would be this man. His demeanor is rough, but his touch on your back is surprisingly gentle whilst guiding you upward.
Again you’re granted with the wondrous sight of the Throne Room in all its historic glory, although your gaze directed at the floor keeps you ignorant to so many heads bowed, so many voices cast to silence upon the click of footsteps approaching.
And when you look up, you meet strikingly blue eyes—perhaps a genetic mutation of a sort.
They’re stunning, enrapturing almost, and you find the need to break eye contact immediate, more dire than normal while staring down at you.
Plump, full lips and perfectly sculpted facial features seem that of a Greek god’s, too ethereal to exist in your reality. A glittering, silver crown sits stark atop a black nest of hair.
Either arm rests on the sides of the throne, and you swore you’d never seen someone look so, King-like. That, and the massive cape of wolf-skin draped over his back.
A devil, dressed as an angel.
“Your Highness, this Mage was found near the L/N Kingdom by Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin while scouting the territory.” A palace-woman announces, the same guard who lingered outside, Minho, standing to your side.
Your blood boils, disregarding every ounce of amazement once inhabited.
It’s him. The man responsible for the demise of loved ones you couldn’t count on all of your fingers and toes.
Minho, as if sensing your frothing rage, mutters through his helmet a staggered warning—remaining upright and unmoving at attention.
“Do not move and do not look into his eyes unless you’re asking for death.”
Your patience dissipates, lip twitching involuntarily.
You can’t remember the last time you were genuinely angry. You were happy, surrounded by people you loved.
Those people weren’t here now, they were killed.
“You murderer! You’re a—“ Your attempt at lashing out at the King stalled when Minho kicks the crevice between your knees, forcing you down on the carpet below.
“Monster! A bloody— fucking— Monster!”
Palace representatives gasp their bewilderment, some beckoning you away to the dungeons, others urging Minho to end you right here and now.
It wouldn’t matter, would it?
The King’s raised hand stalls the accusations, his familiar clicking footsteps nearing closer till he stands before you.
Shifting down into a squat, the man tips your chin up to meet cerulean again, his head slightly tilted to the side.
“Don’t get it mixed up little one,” He murmurs, the pad of his thumb controlling your movement.
“I did not kill your family. Your family killed themselves.”
Fist sharply winding around for a punch, he catches it before you can even register your predicament, iron grip strong enough you fear he might just snap your wrist in half.
“And I wouldn’t recommend fighting back, otherwise I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Concluding his threat the further he bends your wrist, you whine, face scrunching from the pain until he finally stops, amusedly surveying your expression.
Denying your own enraged shaking, you suck your teeth, focus vehemently pinned onto him.
“Why would you care about my safety?” You snarl, trying to wriggle his hold off to no avail.
“Because,” The King cocks his brows. “I like you.”
About to spit another word, he interrupts you, index tracing the veins of your arm.
“Plus, I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.”
You shiver.
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Your second day and you feel as if you’re officially going insane.
The only person tolerable here is Jeongin, that chamber guard whose name you don’t know, and Felix, the castles cook. You barely see the King, and even when he’s present he’s usually quartered in his study.
What he does there remains unknown, information learned in the mere form of startled maids leaving the room and gossip among those wandering the Kingdom.
“Do you know what he does?”
Felix looks up from the dish he was laying in front of you, wispy blond locks bouncing with the movement.
“Does what?” He piques, ridding a stray piece of hair clinging to your sleeve.
“The King, what does he do all day long?”
One thing about Felix you love, his honesty. Regardless of if most would tell a quick fib and flee, Felix, although occasionally working around a topic, takes the time to actually explain things to you.
Allows you to learn more of the place you’re going to have to call home.
“Hm..” He pulls a chair from your right to drop into, and for a moment, you see Ms. Maewether in that smile of his. Your heart aches.
“Chris— I mean, King Bahng is always busy. He plans trade agreements, oversees the hunts, and basically keeps this castle alive.”
Chris?
“Who’s Chris?”
Felix nearly squeaks, burying his head in his hands. Evidently, you weren’t supposed to hear that part, but an eagerness to know more about this solitary King kept your hesitance at bay.
“That’s his name. Christopher Bahng, but you’re not allowed to call him that and not allowed to tell anyone about us having this conversa-“
“Tell who?”
You quite literally almost fall backwards in your seat, failing to anticipate the pair of hands placed on Felix’s shoulders.
A pair of hands, followed by a pair of ocean blue eyes, boring right into you and the horrified boy in front of you.
King Bahng. In the flesh.
“Oh.. Hey Chri— Hello Your Highness.”
Again he corrects. These two must know each other.
“Tell who, Felix?” He speaks, tone nothing short of teasing—though the boy looks just as startled, practically sweating through his clothing.
Still adorning that flanking wolf-cape of his, his dark hair is slightly messy, expression distorted curiously.
You hate him to admit, but King Bahng is horribly attractive.
“Nothing! Nothing at all, Your Highness,” Felix chirps, fixing you with a ‘Don’t say a word’ glare you cease to argue with.
Rising up from your seat quickly as if you had any duties in this Kingdom to tend to, you find yourself stalling.
You have so many questions. …And the overwhelming urge to slap him across the face.
You’ve received a fair warning on the latter.
“I’ll be off now, Your Highness.”
The last words come out involuntary, used to referring to your own father this way. It made you sick to know you regarded his murderer the same.
And though the King didn’t stand extremely tall (considering how young Beasts were already your height), his hulking stature felt as if it could swallow you whole, pointed canines flashing when he smiled, sending your head reeling.
Pleased.
King Bahng was pleased hearing something nonthreatening come out of your mouth.
Vile.
Yet, you simply curtsied and hurried off, ceasing to notice the immediate growl Felix directed in the King’s direction.
“Good lord, I know she smells good but you’re practically undressing her with your eyes,” The freckled boy grumbles, returned with an uninterested expression from his friend.
Before the King can head off to whatever meeting he has planned, however, he spins on his heel.
“Have you consulted Seungmin about the scent-blocking salve?”
“Possessive, are we?”
His glare shuts the cook up immediately.
“If there is one Mage left, it’s mine. And since she’s the survivor, she’s mine.”
Yeah, he’s not beating the possessive allegations. But if he’s going to gain your trust, and eventually, after much thought, become mates, he’s keeping every other Beast in the Kingdom at a distance from you at all times.
“Jeongin will report when it’s completed. And Chris?”
“Hm?”
“Don’t expect her to warm up to you.”
King Bahng hums.
“I don’t.”
And with that, Felix follows your exit, leaving the King to his own devices, your nectar-sweet smell lingering in his nose.
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“If I stare at the same wall for hours and hours, shouldn’t it break by now?”
“You’re a Mage, not telekinetic,” Han replies, repetitively scanning over a piece of parchment assumed to be a guest list.
In the midst of your incessant boredom, you found yourself following the King’s Advisor around, peering over his shoulder at the endless list of haughty names written in languid ink strokes. 
Amongst them, you ceased to find your father’s name. You knew it wouldn’t be there, but somehow, you wished if you blinked enough it would magically appear. 
King L/N, written in that same, cursive font. 
Rounding a corner, you conclude if there’s anyone you avoid more than King Bahng (a.k.a Chris), it was Hyunjin. That man was a serpent in a Beast’s body.
Catching sight of his dreaded ponytail, you hastily retrace your steps, hiding behind a massive doorframe while Han stares at you as if you’re a rodent scurrying at his shoes.
“He won’t bite y’know.”
“If only you would’ve been there when he first found me,” You whisper angrily, practically clawing at the wood desperately till he leaches you out.
Leaching enough, in fact, that you end up right in Hyunjin’s line of sight, who surveys you up and down with a cocked brow to the point you’re sure steam is billowing from your ears. 
Mocking. Ruby-red, mocking eyes.
He does bite. He sinks his teeth into the flesh and tears. 
You won’t bleed without biting back. 
Han’s iron grip tightens on your arm as slowly, oh so slowly, Hyunjin walks closer. 
The strategist prowls, edging right up in your face—noses a thread-width apart.  
His glower sets your fury alight, lips curled in a deriding notion.
“No need to glare, wouldn’t want wrinkles ruining that face of yours.”
“No need to get so close unless you plan to kiss me, mutt.”
Though, just as Hyunjin preapres to lunge, a big hand holds him back, animal fur cuffs indicating it isn’t the King who stepped in.
The man who had fetched you from the chambers earlier divided either of you. Shorter, but evidently stronger. 
“Control yourselves, both of you. For as long as she stays in the Kingdom, she’s The King’s property—“
“I am no one’s property,” You snarl, and the guard turns.
Basked in clear lighting, you can finally see him. Honing dark brown hair hanging above his eyebrows, the same scar resides by his mouth, though, his eyes are much kinder than you expected.
Taking a slow inhale, he reads your conflicted expression like an ornate mirror.
“One mage in the Kingdom of Beasts? Sorry to break it to you, but yes, you are his property. So as long as she’s here, nobody lays a finger on her, understood?”
Glancing to each person, either of them ease their apprehension, the bewildered Jisung next to you stifling a breath, Hyunjin rolling his eyes with a loud huff.
Baiting seconds pass, and in that period of time do you realize you never caught his name. Specifically, the guard’s name.
“Excuse m-“
“Seo Changbin,” Han interjects. “His name is Seo Changbin.”
Ah. Right.
Now on the roster of least-likely to kill you, Jeongin, Changbin, Felix, and Han.
Filled with a need to evade, you stand merely as a spectator as each horridly red hue snaps to stare at you, your heart spiking an alarming rate. 
The King’s Advisor’s fingers tighten to the point you’re sure he’s blocking blood flow.   
“You need to leave. Jisung, get in contact with Seungmin and see when the salve is done,” Changbin instructs, already shoving Hyunjin away.
Salve. What salve?
Failing to give you any explanation, you’re dragged off, boisterously complaining before the highly annoyed man abruptly pauses, finger nudging your forehead irritably.  
“You smell.”
Then he leaves, and you’re left to wonder if you’re still in primary school or the Kingdom of Beasts.
You smell? What’s that supposed to mean?
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First thing in the morning, you’re torn from your slumber with a blazing sun scorching your eyes.
Your canopy beds silken drapes doing little to block the attack, you whine to an apologetic Jisung who merely sighs in return.
“Sorry sleeping beauty, but we have an appointment to attend this morning. Can you handle getting dressed on your own?”
You roll your eyes, groggily pulling yourself upright. “I was an heiress, not helpless.” 
To which he cracks a miniature grin and slips out the door, allowing you to hurriedly strip off your chemise and messily arrange your stays and petticoats.
Out of all things you’d been deprived of, a part of the L/N Clan unable to be divided was your garments.  
Somewhere, in the midst of fabric and citrus scented soap, you swear you can still smell bits and pieces of home.
What this appointment entailed you failed to ask, gingerly hustled down winding hallways barely illuminated with sunlight. 
The Kings Advisor expertly winds further and further down, georgian architecture littered in symmetrical golden portraits and decorum, casement glass windows twinkling as you walked past. 
Having reached a dead end, you’re pleasantly surprised to watch Han jar a brass doorknob open, paving a breathtaking view of the garden ahead. 
Garden had to be an understatement. This amount of foliage was nothing short of a forest. 
Flowers of all kind surround your walk to a shrouded greenhouse, abnormally brick relative to it’s stone-castle counterpart. Its walls are overgrown in slithering vines, door nearly invisible without proper inspection.
Jisung, having noticed your amazed expression, chuckles.
Granted, it’s been years since you’d seen any form of green vegetation, your astonishment felt justified. 
“We’ve arrived.”
Oh how you wish to stay here forever. Not captive by the Beast Clan, no, but in this garden, hidden.
And if the last door took effort to pry open, this was a new challenge entirely. Through thickets of dense hedge and tangled branches, Jisung had to quite literally ram himself into the chittering wood for entry.
“Knock next time would you?” A voice projects from inside, belonging to a man clad in rounded spectacles, a slightly hooked nose, and cleanly hair parted to the side. 
The Kings Advisor, apparently having known him, beams his prize-winning smile upon seeing the man.
“Seungminnnn—“ Han drawls out, excitedly waddling over to wrap him in a crushing hug. Stiffly, Seungmin pats his back, an action you fondly watch from afar. 
“Ah!” The more ebullient of the two springs up, turning to you. “This is Seungmin, he runs the apothecary here.” 
Nodding stiffly, Seungmin ushers you to one of the many mahogany chairs circling a gateleg table; a vase—likely jade with its pale green hue—filled with indigo hydrangea presides in the center.
“And,” Han’s outburst cuts off your awe. “He’s practically my little brother.”
Now you’re in awe again, but for a different reason. And by the evident frown on Seungmin’s face, he can tell.
“Shocking, right?”
Yes, shocking for certain.
Though, before you can reply, Han slaps his hands on either of the man’s shoulders, expression transformed into one of seriousness. 
“About time I left then, yeah?” Was spoken while his form hurriedly retreated out the door, leaving you with more questions than answers to what just occurred.
“..He forgot something again.”
Biting back your laugh, you finally take a seat, given ample time as Seungmin shuffles off to the side to acknowledge your everything to its fullest extent. 
Matching the plant-infested interior, verdant drawers scatter the corners, a lone, looming medicinal cabinet left ajar as the chemist poured over a variety of assorted concoctions. 
Air stained with a damp smell of earth, you notice, much to your curiosity, the longevity of such a place.
This apothecary, though inside the castle, feels like an entirely new settlement of its own. An establishment existing before the war, rebuilt (inefficiently) enough to where it was only required to stand stable.
From first sighting you’d grown an attachment to it, but this newfound understanding, these newfound details setting the apothecary apart from your predicament let you imagine yourself anywhere else, back to a nostalgia you longed for.
A short term fix.
“This.” You’re handed a phial from overhead. It’s a slightly green substance, thicker in texture that rests heavy in your hand. “Is for you.”
Slipping across from you, he surveys your analyzing, arms crossed over a deep brown waistcoat.
“And this is..?” You inquire, looking up from the cork-sealed glass.
“A salve. You had better not waste it, material is low as is and I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.”
Well that didn’t answer your question. You’ve heard conversation about a specific salve for days on end, but no genuine explanation caved in—
‘I’ve been waiting years for this winter to end already.’
Repeatedly mulling over the words, you can practically feel your heart palpitating, head beginning to spin. 
..End already? The endless winter.. ending?
“So you’re saying,” You murmur, placing down this special salve in order to truly regard him.
“There’s a way to end the Endless Winter?”
His brows crease critically, seemingly sarcastic.
“There’s an end to everything sweetheart. Life, death. Start, finish. War,” He meets your eyes with a conniving grin, a face you hadn’t seen on the man before.
“Peace.”
Automatically, you roll your eyes. 
Peace? Peace when there was no peace left to be made, no kingdom remaining to make peace with?
“And how do you think the nonexistent Mage will make peace with Beasts?”
Seungmin grins.
“Well there is a Mage left,” He scornfully states, flicking your forehead whilst you palm the sting, frown evident. 
“And as far as making peace goes, marriage.”
Marriage. 
What.
“Wait- so you’re telling me big bad King Bahng could’ve just hooked up with a Mage and called it a day and everything would be fine?”
Seungmin clears his throat.
“One, Bahng doesn’t ‘hook up’. Two, it’s not as easy as that.”
Of course it’s not as easy as that. Why would it be?
You wish to claw your eyes out of your head, anticipating his explanation. 
“Because if you weren’t aware before, marriage ties between Mage and Beast are very difficult to establish. Bahng is picky on everything, and even pickier when it comes to mates.”
But before you can argue there were thousands of suitors roaming the L/N Kingdom for him to pick from, Seungmin interrupts. 
“Plus, if anyone else were King I’m sure we would’ve had peace decades ago. You’re lucky you’re in the castle right now, otherwise you would be eaten alive.”
Your face scrunching worriedly, he rakes an exasperated hand through his hair, plopping down on the vanity’s chair.
“Your scent.”
Again, you’re reminded of Han’s ‘you smell’ comment. Why is it showing up a second time?
He groans frustratedly, wordlessly praying you understand.
You don’t.
“Mage have specific scents. You can’t smell it since you’re not Beast. But let me tell you, you smell fucking delightful.”
Oh.
That’s what he meant by eaten alive, and the entire ‘you smell’ conundrum.
Seungmin, rather entertained with the shock written on your face, shrugs his shoulders, nonplussed by the crassness of his earlier statement.
“Now you get the use of the salve, right? And why you’re not allowed to leave the castle?” 
Your mouth feels dry of response, beckoned toward the exit without so much as a peep passing through your lips.
However, right as the you’re halfway gone, he stops you, brows cocked.
“Do us all a favor and marry him, will you?”
And like that, the apothecary’s door thumps closed behind you.
If only the “him” he was referring to wasn’t King Bahng, you might’ve agreed.
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Marriage in the L/N Kingdom had been a sacred event.
An event you’d been prepared for since childhood, fed daydreams of a day you would be married to a prince-like man with perfect features and a perfect personality, every element fabricated from a young age.
Truly, you loved it. Loved visualizing a life shared with your loved one, whoever that man would be.
Little did you know he might just be King of the Beast Clan.
No. You refused. Marrying a murderer, the murderer of your family, was the last thing you would oblige to. 
He sent the command, he led the attack, and you’d rather die than give him the satisfaction of marriage.
Although, one problem. Similar to life back at the L/N Kingdom, supplies only lasted for some time before shipments became low, and pretty soon (according to Seungmin) the salve you were given would run dry. 
Meaning, your meager chance of protection lay completely exposed, susceptible to any Beast daring enough to try something.
Two sides of a coin remained. Heads, you marry the murderer of a King and spring returns, or tails, you abstain and are eventually left vulnerable.
You’ve always been the person to confront a difficulty head-on, but, in this case, a different, defensive approach crossed your mind.
Run away. 
Despite Seungmin’s sensible reminder to not leave the castle, what other option sounded suitable? 
Die physically or mentally, pick your poison. 
Or maybe, never drink the poison in the first place. Evade.
Three days have passed since you received the salve, and after applying it behind your ears and between your elbows at dawn, you were free to do as you pleased—within the castle walls. 
Yet, tomorrow’s dawn would be divergent. Tomorrow, you would be days away from the Beast Clan. 
Sneakily roaming around, you managed to find certain outlets to your disposal. Nearby the chambers you’d been kept in was a moth eaten, hooded cloak seemingly unworn for quite awhile. Ideal for an anonymous escape.
Furthermore, amongst the colloquy during a dinner with Changbin and Felix in the Great Hall, you distinctly recall overhearing information about the stables.
If you were to flee, you needed a horse, and thanks to the guard, you knew right where to find one.
Unable to sleep the night before, your dry eyes blink through the dense darkness, sweeping the candlestick from your side table for a minimal source of vision.
Lathering a copious amount of salve all over your skin, you slip down the winding stairwell, grateful for the shadowed moonlight gazing down upon the Throne Room as you venture.
Bingo. There’s the cloak.
Sweeping the fabric over your shoulders, you slip the hood over your head, creeping down the steep steps leading into a surrounding ward.
On your left, across the butcher’s vendors. 
Blindly searching, the whinny of a mare alerts your close distance, carefully winding through lead ropes and linked fences to the first horse in sight. 
You have to be fast, the sun will rise at any moment it pleases, and it’s impertinent you’re gone by then.
Hoisting a mere saddle pad over the back, you deem the saddle too noisy, slipping the reins overheard and adjusting their length accordingly. 
Jogging forwards, you’re brisk to gain a running leap atop the horse prior to the thunder of hooves charging forward.
Closer to the gatehouse you near, a luckily open drawbridge allowing easy passage across. 
Faster, faster. You can’t afford to slow down. Daylight is beginning to peer above the horizon, warming your back with rays of sunlight amongst a snowy landscape.
And when the kingdom wakes up, it’ll be as if you were never there. 
But, an undecided factor stayed. Where would you go? There was no kingdom left for you, no home to go to.
For now, you needed to prioritize finding a hiding spot, if only for a night, that supplies warmth.
Given the opportunity, too long out here and you or your horse will indefinitely succumb to the frigid conditions.
Veering off sharply, you sidle beneath a barren magnolia tree, its thick trunk barely blocking the unforgiving wind. Pretty soon you’ll have to keep on, but for now, you’ll savor the temporary peace.
Blue skies indicate it must be nearing morning, and you assume the castle will be slowly waking up. By now, King Bahng would likely be awake as well, you’ve been told he doesn’t sleep well anyway. 
Scouts. He’ll send scouts most likely. Knights like Minho or Hyunjin.
Ugh, the mere thought of Hyunjin finding you a second time makes you nauseous. 
Except, the longer you consider it, King Bahng is the worst case scenario.  
I could break you any time I wanted, Mage. So behave.
Those words send an entourage of chills slithering up your spine, and not from the cold.
Because while Hyunjin is a type of spiteful strong you want to avoid primarily due to how annoying it is, King Bahng is a quiet strong, the kind that wouldn’t confess his anger, but have you witness it firsthand instead.
Enough thinking. You have to go. 
Using the bumpy roots below you for leverage, you wind a leg around the horse’s back, aiming to reach the edge of the territory before midday.
That was the goal, until you’re pummeling to the ground.
The moment is instantaneous, your horse releasing a shriek as it’s swiped right off its feet, slipping onto hard, icy ground and simultaneously crushing you in its descent. 
Almost like vomit you feel the screech of pain building in your throat, a numbness in your right leg along with the warmth of blood soaking your clothing doing little to sustain level breathing.
Then, in the midst of your hysterics, you look upon the visible side of your horse, a pair of claw marks scratched right across its stomach.
Scrambling out to the best of your abilities, you bite your tongue, praying this is one of Hyunjin’s sick, sadistic games and not an obvious ambush.
You refuse to die like this. You’ve survived once and you’ll be damned to give up now.
“I’m impressed. You’re not as weak as I thought.”
A sneering tone speaks from behind you. According to the claw marks, Beast, but not one you remember. And with your current state—being unable to rise to your feet—you’re utterly incapable of ascertaining an identity.
Instantly, your hand reaches up to trace the alcove beneath your ear and neck, any ounce of hope disappearing upon feeling for the salve. 
Gone.
“Now, care to tell me what a Mage is doing in Beast territory?”
He’s hiding behind you on purpose, drawing you into a sensory overload, a panicked frenzy of adrenaline and fear. 
Deer caught in headlights. 
A curved claw unlike those in the Kingdom of Beasts winds your head back, staring straight into the face of something you can hardly deem Beast, more like wolf.
He has this terrifying look in his eyes, and breath that stenches of metal and flesh.
This man is the kind of Beast you’d grown up believing in. Violent, merciless.
Minho, Hyunjin, hell, anyone. Please. 
As if second instinct, you assess everything around you, snatching the closest stick to you and jarring the sharp end through the bottom of his chin with all your might.
A gagged, sort of howling sound emits from above you, putrid-smelling blood spraying all over your face. 
In split seconds does another form appear in your peripheral, your dread heightening before ultramarine stills the horror in its tracks.
King Bahng. 
He’s quiet, expertly slicing the back of the neck, the attacker dropping to the ground motionlessly.
“I could’ve handled it myself.”
It’s a lie. He doesn’t respond.
If the first Beast hadn’t killed you, he certainly would. He said it himself, whenever he pleased, he could break you.
So when King Bahng’s arms extend toward your position on the ground, you prepare for the worst, crawling backwards as quickly as possible.
Surprisingly, he kneels down in front of you, and, as your vision clears, you notice the concern written on his face. 
Weird, the feeling compiling in your gut as he looks at you like that. The way your eyes build with tears, lungs finally hacking for as much non-congested air available without a single word said.
Just by his expression alone, you’re a fit of blood and tears, the aftershock hardly helping ease the experience. 
Crying, in the middle of a forest, with King Bahng as a witness.
“I know, I know,” Is all he whispers, and you barely recognize when he hoists you into his arms, the searing sting of your leg your only indication of movement. 
Smoothly maneuvering you again his chest, he cradles your body close, one hand directing his horse as you ride back to what you assume to be the Kingdom. 
Through the aching pain, you can’t even be upset about returning, merely focusing on the subtle warmth of his body and the strength willing you to say something. 
“You speak nothing of this moment,” You murmur, the King’s body erupting into a tremor of laughter. 
“I speak whatever I like whenever I like, sweetness. No one touches what’s mine, yeah?”
Mine. You hate the effect he has on you. 
Yet, your snarky remarks are depleting in tandem with your energy; the soothing, shushing sound he’s making and the repetitive thump of hooves doing little to keep you from sleeps tempting beckon. 
Eyes drifting closed, his tightened grip pulls you closer, your cheek smushed into the fabric of his coat whilst lost in slumber.
“Hold on a bit longer for me, we’ll be there in no time.”
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Recovery, to your luck, is swift. Either that, or Kim Seungmin is secretly a Mage, because within a week spent off your leg, you’re back to normal. 
A little sensitive to weight, but overall, healed.
Initially, despite the agony blazing through your body, you were thankful you barely recalled seeing anyone, swept into the apothecary immediately. 
The last thing you wanted to see after returning would be the faces. Plus, what about your friends? Jeongin, Felix, Han? You’re sure they looked destroyed. 
Except, it’s all fake. A feign kindness given to you only by sympathy. What do the faces matter anyway? 
You gorge that question to the very back of your throat when said Cook walks through the apothecary’s door, utmost apprehension apparent. He grabs your face, brows knit—but not in an angry sort of way, more like staving-down-tears. 
“Don’t you ever do something like that ever again.”
Past him, you can’t help but smile seeing Seungmin’s softened expression watching Felix, adoring his preciousness just as you are. 
“I promise.”
Nodding curtly, he turns around, leaving you to view the many ingredients scattered across his apron. 
He rushed here, cute.
“I’ll bring breakfast down here.”
Craning, you can barely make out his deep voice, lowered to a nearly inaudible decibel. Ears flushed pink, you’re filled with a worrisome amount of happiness seeing Felix’s embarrassment trying to maintain an upset facade.
“Hm? What was that?”
Ah, at this point you’re picking fun.
“I said I’ll bring breakfast down here.” 
Precipitously slipping outside, both you and Seungmin are left to stifle your bubbling laughter, graced with the most appetizing platter you’ve had the pleasure of eating a few minutes later.
However merciful those first few days were, dissipated. And in a short amount of time, you could feel the eyes boring into your back, the questions resting on the tip of tongues.
All the same, nobody mentioned it. And if anything, that made the paranoia grow. 
It was gradual. The subtle shadow you swore you saw in corners, the terror stopping your heart in your chest when you swear someone breathed down your neck. 
Your body may be healed, but your mind certainly isn’t.
To a degree that two weeks later, you’ve found sleep nearly impossible, lingering in the kitchen in the wee hours of morning, teetering on your wits end.
Some occasions it’s Felix who you see first, wiping the sleep from his eyes, loading coal into the furnaces to heat the kitchen for the day. Other days it’s handmaids, shuffling around busily, carrying goods to and fro.
This time, Minho arrives first, for once wearing regular clothing opposed to his usual armor, steaming saucer in clutch. 
Perhaps this is an opportunity, he is a knight after all.
“Hey Minho?”
Tired eyes sweep to your figure on the table, the rim of his cup held to his lips.
“I’m too paranoid and at this point I might die of sleep deprivation,” You huff, referring to his raging, bed-headed self . “…Could you teach me how to use a sword?”
He’s staring at you like you‘ve grown two heads, pulling a chair back to settle in, arms crossed over his chest. 
No sentences need to be said aloud, merely spectating the gears turning in his head enough to set your nerves on edge. 
Yet, in the midst of your waiting, you note a peculiar bruise peeking from his collarbone, another lingering a tad bit lower. 
“And you think a sword is going to protect you?”
The question is genuine, lacking the bemused nature you were expecting.
Another thing you’ve noted throughout your sleepless nights was the continuous amount of times you’d watch the King’s Advisor sneak into his quarters, a realization keeping your response baited.
Seems his love life isn’t a concern.
“Hey, those marks on your neck and shoulder, are those from Ha—“
“When do you want to train.”
All lightheartedness vanishing, you have to chew your lip to avoid ticking him off further by giggling.
“Tomorrow?”
Pushing in his chair with an agreeable hum, you merely whisper a hurried “Thank you” he grunts at, rushing off to who knows where and giving you leeway to recover from the hilarity of it all.
Tomorrow, however, came far too early, not anticipating to be woken up at the crack of dawn, grumpy enough the prospect of blackmailing the King’s Advisor became dangerously tempting. 
Yeah, good luck. He’s not budging until you’re on your feet. 
Seems you underestimated Han Jisung’s stubbornness.
Rushed into a loose gown, you’re led to the Inner Ward, an open sector in the middle of the castle. 
Upon being met with a too-smug Minho, you can practically see the word “payback” hovering above his head, busying himself with fetching supplies.
Perhaps this is karma coming back to bite you.
Ouch.
Except, you’re puzzled. You’re being taught how to deul, yet your teacher isn’t adorning armor nor gear of any kind.  
At your confusion, the knight chokes a cocky guffaw.
“First, we learn how to properly move.” He hands you a wooden sword. “If I so much as leave a scratch on you I’m as good as dead.”
Again, he may appear snarky, but his tone is nothing short of serious. Minho is hard to read.
Wait.
Seeing past your panic, the Beast seems to answer your unspoken question.
“King Bahng is visiting the villages today, he won’t be back till the evening.”
A wave of relief grounds your bones, standing rather pathetically while Minho aids in critiquing your position, instinctively shifting into his own in front of you.
“Now, there are a lot of things to consider when dueling. I’ll narrow things down. Don’t overestimate or underestimate your opponent, trust your gut, be aware of everything, and lastly, do not be afraid to deceive.”
Promptly, he’s lashing out before you can even process his advice, wooden weapon drawn above his head as your grip tightens, attempting to block the strike only for his foot to press into your stomach, sending you falling right onto the ground instead. 
“Isn’t that unfai—“
“Like I said, deception is your greatest weapon. In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.”
He reaches a hand out for you to take, helping you back up again only to both fall back into your stances. 
“Keep in mind, your sword isn’t your only weapon.”
Minding his instruction, you continue onward, sparring heartily till the beating afternoon sun becomes too hot to bask in any longer. Amongst the four hours you had been consumed in training, you’ve snagged certain valuable points.
Calmness is crucial. Your mind streams clearer when you parried, void to the opponent’s increasing frustration—given an advantage of both agility and focus. 
Two, unpredictability is a gift. Minho is especially good at being unpredictable. 
Whether he charges headfirst or aims the forte of his sword toward particularly weak points, you begin to mimic his performance, growing closer and closer to conquering those signature tactics.
Of course, your enjoyment can only last for a bit before it spoils. 
Spoiling as in, Hwang Hyunjin’s random appearance, sauntering into the area as if he’s King himself.
“Well look at this, didn’t think I’d see our runaway and Minho here.”
There’s an air between Minho and Hyunjin, one that forbids Hyunjin from egging his superior on, just like when you were first brought to the Kingdom. Lucky for you, you could be degraded as much as he approved of.  
Feigning a dramatic gasp, he gestures to either wooden sword held in raw palms.
“No way, you’re learning how to deul?! Don’t tell me you’ve never learned basic attacks? Oh right, you never had to fight, huh, princess?”
You bite the skin of your cheek, minding your composure.
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know enough.”
Now he’s asking for it. 
“Say,” He sneers. “Let’s duel.”
Keeping Minho from intervening, you apologetically nod to his disproving expression. He knows it’s stupid, even while fetching his armor and adjusting the metal plating to your body, and you do too, but you can’t afford to back down, you won’t.
Testing your abilities carrying a legitimate sword this time, Minho grants Hyunjin a terse scowl, their own wordless agreement to tone down on anything too harmful.
Somehow, it grates your nerves further.
Straight away, he charges his right foot forward, the metal colliding with a loud ring, narrowing your body to shield your unprotected side.
Hyunjin, though skillful in his wrist mobility, clearly uses his size compared to you as an advantage, carelessly throwing around his jabs whilst relying on form alone.
You shuffle back and forth continuously, the commotion of metal rifle drawing the attention of Beasts alike throughout the castle, stopping their movements to survey.
Lurching himself forward once more, you will your legs to support you, balancing the crushing force of his pushing ascent with as much strength as possible.
“If you win, you get whatever sensible award you want,” He grits, using pure weight alone to gain higher vantage. “But if I win, you marry King Bahng.”
Suddenly, interrupting your stunned reaction to his proposal, Minho’s reminder breaches your eardrums.
Deception is your greatest weapon.
Honestly, you’re bewildered Hyunjin hadn’t played petty thus far, and you have no doubt he will any moment now. 
You can’t afford to waste the opportunity.
Maintaining your gaze targeted on his face, you steal the chance, slipping your sword right beneath his feet, hooking the guard just fast enough to cause his legs to buckle. 
The tip of your sword centimeters from his neck, you cock your brows, finding satisfaction in the glare he’s boring into your skin from his spot on the ground.
In a game of swords, it doesn’t matter how dirty it’s won, it matters who won.
“If King Bahng wishes to marry me, he will deul me himself. That decision isn’t up to you.”
Stalling his immediate laughter upon nudging the sharp point right up against his pulse point, you chuckle.
“I might have to do this more often, you’re not bad when you shut your mouth for once.”
Dropping your sword, you reach out a customary hand he rejects, either of you following Minho to the side stalls to return his armory before a haunting voice stops you in your tracks.
“One more match?”
You’d been ignorant to the Kingdom’s sudden burst of energy, the trembling chains of the drawbridge dropping onto cobblestone ground, the gates shifting open. 
Having appeared through thin air stands King Bahng, constantly arriving at the worst of timing. 
He’s clad in traditional armor, though his has fancier plating, cleaner sheen, azure hues hidden within the gorget.
Your stomach ties itself into a knot, piecing together the details.  
“If this is about the deal, I don’t think I-“
“Oh please princess, this was never up to you. We did this for the sake of the Kingdom, you think we ever considered your say in this?” Hyunjin interjects, quickly escorted away by a frowning Minho and an additional guard you don’t recognize.
Huh?
What… What is he talking about? For the Kingdom? What does he mean for the sake of the Kingdom?
Do us all a favor and marry him, will you? Seungmin’s words ricochet in your skull, the parts assembling perfectly into place.
But if I win, you marry King Bahng.
Marriage. 
They knew all along. They knew you were set to marry him and yet, no one told you.
If your betrayal had been violently inflicted, you would look like a rag doll. All this time, these moments you thought were glee-filled, hopeful.
Lies.
Tearing the King’s chance to speak from his fingertips, you pick up your sword, denying your shaky, white knuckles and replacing those broken feelings with rage instead.
No, you can’t afford to show weakness. You must replace these feelings as quickly as possible. 
No weakness, no mercy. 
“Fine, let’s duel.”
“But-“
“Pick. Up. Your. Sword. And fight me.”
Releasing a sigh, he cautiously pulls his own sword from its sheath, waiting to be counted off unlike Hyunjin.
However skillful you’d been before had completely vanished. Though, you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt, this fight meant your future, meant the minuscule bit of freedom you’d gotten to experience here.
The last thing you wished was to realize you had been lied to, but even more so to realize you’ve been lied to in front of the entire Kingdom, curious faces peering from the castle’s allures.
Your swings sloppy, you credit the severity of the blows as you attack and defend, evidently dueling with fatal intent.
You’ve lost this battle, you know it. Your senses are too overwhelmed to assess spatial awareness, and every muscle in your arm cries out for relief. 
Swept off of your feet in a repeated cycle to earlier, you accept, sitting below the tip of King Bahng’s sword, your defeat.
Almost automatically, the pieces of pride you’d attained after your victory against Hyunjin amounted to nothing. 
You may beat everyone else, but you will never beat this man, now matter how hard you try. The odds will always soar in his favor, and you will suffer the results of it.
This is not a game you’ll win. Because from the beginning, you existed as a marionette, enjoying such naivety till the comprehension as to who controlled the play hit you.
This theatre was particularly unforgiving.
He won.
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If your insomnia before was grueling, this was an entirely new extreme. 
Averaging a meager two hours per night, you’re positive you’ve memorized the guest list by heart, staring blankly at the crinkled parchment, unblinking.
In a matter of days, the congratulatory ball will be held. 
You’ll be attending said ball as the bride.
Weeks ago, the guest list had simply been a past time, a mandatory errand for the King’s Advisor, a ball you weren’t aware, and wouldn’t be aware, was meant for you.
Your chest feels.. sad? Empty? 
Yes. Empty is the word. An emptiness gutting you from the inside, the ugly drawback of exhausted options and worthless optimism.
There’s a lot of things to ponder on as well, factors you have to analyze, ensure it wasn’t another stage for an audience you so foolishly performed.
No escape. 
Tuesday, two days before the ball, Jeongin drops by your door, carrying a package under his arm and that effortlessly adorable smile gracing picture-perfect features.
“This is for you, from.. um..” The anxious boy stammers, placing the binded package on your room’s veneer. 
“You can say his name, Jeongin, I’m not mad.”
He exhales audible relief, slender fingers wrapping around your hand before you can bid him farewell.
“He— The King, he’s a good person.”
You force a tight grimace, agreeing despite your contradicting expression.
Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore.
Slipping from bed once the young boy’s footsteps fade in the distance, you gingerly unwind crimson ribbon, allowing the leather exterior to unfold. 
Inside lies a gown.  
A gown that, investigating how breathtaking it is, should be considered nothing short of a ball gown the longer you stare.
Designed as a mantua, the white fabrics paired with lace neck frill and engageantes add an elegance you’ve never seen before. Light, subtle blue hides beneath ruffles of the skirt, further accented by equally blue lace strings fastening the back together and outlining the seam of your square-cut stays.
You can only marvel at the gift given by your future husband, wishing so terribly you could simply run into his arms and pretend everything was well. 
If only it was under better terms, as if nothing had happened. If King Bahng was another man, it’d be possible.
And Wednesday night, the root of your problems bares his face, knocking at your door while you were under the impression it was Han instead.
Acting as if you didn’t care was much easier around everyone but him, especially when you were halfway into tying the laces of your dress, the dress he had purchased for you.
What awful circumstances.
“Don’t touch me,” You hiss, regarding the man across from you with a frown.
Lifting either hand in the air, he seemingly invites you to figure out the impossible strings yourself, cueing a very aggravated, very futile attempt at tightening the ties of your ball gown before (hesitantly) allowing the man to slip behind you.
Of course you had to choose now to try it on.
His touch irritably careful, he ensures the fabric is snug fitting but breathable, each woven thread in its coordinating pattern.
Where he learned this you have no idea, only aware of how horrific this close proximity is, your restlessness growing unbearable.
Running his tongue over his top teeth, he backs up slightly, taking you in with apparent speechlessness.
He clears his throat.
“I won’t apologize because I know it means nothing to you, but please, let me explain. I intended to tell you, I just-“
He sounds timid, like a child.
A sour, bitter fury froths like bile in your throat. You want to explode. 
“No. No. I didn’t want this! I won’t!” You wind around, pointing an accusing finger to his chest. “You killed them all, my family, my loved ones, children. I hate you. I hate you!” Your voice breaks, a gravelly, disgusting drawl raking your throat raw. Salty, burning tears drip down your collarbones.
Grievance. An innumerable stage of sadness you hadn’t reached before now, overflowing.
As he tries calming you down, you only grow angrier, pushing from your path to the door, ripping the handle awry.
Instantly, his arms wrap around your middle, hauling you back as you kick and scream, fingernails digging into any available skin, dress puffing as your legs flail.
Catastrophic.
“No- No!”
You’re certain the entire kingdom can hear you, but that’s the last concern occupying your headspace, too focused on escaping, far off as you had done earlier, anywhere but here.
“Stop crying,” He commands, either hand on your wrist pinning your back to the bed, expression morphed pitifully. His calloused hand swipes the storming rivulets from your cheeks. 
“Please, Y/n, please stop crying. It hurts.” 
Your response shortens into a simple sob, aching.
“It hurts..?” You murmur, eyes shifting over his face. “…You hurt?”
Incessant crying causing your skin to burn, he only blinks at you.
A fit of anger forms just as fast as it disappeared in the pit of your stomach.
“You’re hurting? You’re the sick son of a bitch that killed my family and took everything I’ve ever loved away, you don’t deserve to hurt!”
Sucking in a necessary inhale, you angrily flail, wrinkling your nose at the careful tilt of his head, the distance of his face from yours, every scar, every pore close enough to see.
What happened to the King who threatened to break you? Why is he pitying you, looking at you with such kindness?
Longing to bring up how useless the deal was, how the benefits of the marriage aren’t your responsibility, you simply glare, emotions a whirlwind you can’t explain, can’t say aloud. 
And all he does is stare. Staring like you’ve said nothing at all. 
You want to cry out, want to curse him for all eternity, curse those blue eyes that seem to pave a pathway through your soul.
But you don’t. He beats you to it.
“..Do you know why my eyes are blue?”
What?
“Because I’m not fully Beast. My mother was a Mage. She turned against my father after I was born, left us, and vowed to do everything in her power to destroy Beasts.” 
Your face contorts nonsensically, his tight hold on your wrists loosening the longer he speaks.
“And I assume,” He redirects your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact. 
Rearing deja-vú reminds you of your first encounter. 
“No one ever told you Mage’s started the war.”
You scoff.  
“Or that the Mage planned to cut off all trade supply simply out of spite. And so, I did what I had to—“
“You did what you wanted to. You killed helpless people because of your own problems, my family had nothing to do with it!” Vocal cords throbbing the louder you scream, you try kicking your legs to no avail. 
“Your family, Mage, had everything to do with it. My people would have died-“
“Mine already did. So now what?”
A minuscule pinch occupies his brows.
“You weren’t supposed to be alive.”
“But I am, so you might as well let me join them.” 
He sighs, a stray, obsidian strand of hair hanging over his forehead.
“You know I can’t do that.”
You test the words on your tongue, wedging your hand out to grab his face, feeling the dip of his jaw as he sucks in a breath.
When you first met, he had told you he’d break you. This change of heart confuses you, grates more anger in your chest.
“And why is that?”
Opening his mouth, he momentarily closes it, then opens again, contemplating the statement with caution.
He’s right, in some way. 
You’re not supposed to be alive, not supposed to be saddened. You were meant to be in the ground with them, be one of the many bodies littering the L/N Kingdom, granted an eternal sleep. 
Yet, you aren’t. 
You survived, and you despise this man with every fiber of your being for that.
But things cannot change. You can’t bring them back, and his situation is just as painful as yours. 
You both lost people, or, would’ve lost people.
An explanation or an apology, as he said, isn’t necessary.
So you’ll get what you want, tangibly.
Forcefully grabbing his chin and jutting him closer to you on the bed, your voice drips with venom, noses mere breadth apart.
“Then end this winter and marry me, Your Highness.”
For a split second you swear his gaze drifts to your lips, but you shake the thought away, his sharp canines glinting off the mirrors reflection. 
“Aren’t I supposed to be the one to propose?”
“You killed my family, no need for formalities.”
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“Care to remind me why you agreed to marry him? Weren’t you planning to kill him?” Felix piques, apron woven around his thin waist, skillfully measuring flour that’s dusted over his nose.
You needed to get your anger out, then devise a plan. Show King Bahng you weren’t going to succumb to his charms, tricks. Ever.
You hum from your spot on the counter, conversing just as you’d done back in your kingdom with Ms. Maewether. 
Technically, he was your new Ms. Maewether.
“Oh no, I still plan on killing him, I just want something first.”
Except, you didn’t talk about murder in front of Ms. Maewether. That was new.
He raises an eyebrow.
“And what would that be?”
Snapping your fingers, you cheerily tap your heels against the cabinets below.
“I want to see spring again.”
Silence overcoming the kitchen, it takes Felix a full minute to understand your preposition before bursting into unadulterated laughter. Well, until he realizes. Then he pouts.
“Aw, I was really looking forward to seeing Chris rejected at the altar.” The smaller Beast whines, popping a piece of sugary sweet dough his mouth and handing another to you.
“Hey, now that’s just cruel,” You mumble, muffled by the delicacy you’re currently chewing on.
“According to you yesterday, not really.”
Ah. Right.
“We just… have a lot to talk about.”
The phrase sounds stupid, but it’s true. Logically, emotionally it’s true. There is a lot in need of discussing.
For now, you’re indifferent.
“I’ve always thought you two were similar.”
The cook’s outburst catches you off guard.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve always wanted to protect what mattered to you most, and maybe, one day, you can understand why he did what he did.”
Leave it to Felix to be your reasonable opinion.
Nevertheless, an invisible barrier rests between you two. A lie. His lie. The Kingdom’s lie.
“Felix, I will never understand why he did it,” You humorlessly chuckle, hopping from your spot. “So tell me, why did you lie?”
All morning you debated the right time to confront him. Tonight was the night, the congratulatory ball, the wedding. Why wait? 
Freezing with his back turned to you, he stops mid-slice, dropping the knife atop the cutting board and gradually facing you. 
Oh Felix.
His nose flushed pink, lips quivering, you allow him to race forward and hug you, head tucked into your shoulder while you stand there, motionless.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It was decided from the start, but we were told not to tell you, not until King Bahng told you himself.”
You want to tell him it’s okay, make some jokes, act like things are normal. Though your arms stay glued to your side.
“I guess Hyunjin beat him to it, huh?” 
His arms tighten around you and, with a sigh, you pat his back, gently nudging him off of you where you can hold that sweet face of his.
“But don’t worry about me, alright? I can handle this, and I forgive you, so let’s move on from this, Lix.” Tenderly rubbing the skin of his cheek, he meekly smiles, an action you can’t help but feel relieved seeing.
You’re strong. You have to be strong. For Felix, for Han, for Jeongin, for your friends throughout the Beast Clan, you’ll be strong. You’ll enjoy wearing the gown regardless of who bought it for you, cherish the wedding no matter the man you’re wedded to.
If you’re going to have to live like this forever, you might as well make the most of it.
On today’s occasion, you’re dressed by a hand maid sent to your quarters, polished and puffed to perfection by the time five o’clock arrives and the banquet officially begins.
And when you see yourself in the mirror, you’re not exactly sure who stares back at you. 
She’s pretty, yes, but she isn’t Y/N. She’s a Queen, the Queen of the Beast Clan.
Your stomach wrenches.
By tomorrow, you’ll be married. Married to King Bahng. You will be a wife, the wife of a King just as the L/N Kingdom intended. 
The thought continues to plague your mind, sucking more and more oxygen from your lungs that as you’re escorted to the ball room.
You can hardly inhale and exhale normally as Changbin, whom you appreciate enormously, walks you down the aisle, past an abundance of people you’ve never seen before. Beasts, business men, acquaintances alike.
Sensing your panic, your linked arms allow him to spare you a meager glance you anxiously return.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine. 
All previous calmness long dissipated, when you finally redirect your attention from your feet and take in King Bahng waiting at the altar, your rampaging anxiousness increases tenfold.
As the audience claps and either of you turn with your backs facing the crowd, you scorn your lack of a poker face when the King rests a hand on your back.
“Breathe,” He utters, only a whisper you heard. 
Wishing to thank him, you bite your tongue, considering the man you’re referring to in the first place prior to replying.
A sharp nod of your head is enough.
Stifling an exhale, you spin on your heel, both bowing to the public before facing each other and holding hands, an action that shouldn’t cause goosebumps to swarm your arms, but does anyway.
“You plan to smash my face in at our wedding?” He murmurs below the customary vows, acknowledging your fingernails digging into his hand.
“Keep giving me ideas and I migh-“
The retort vanishes when he presses his lips to yours, doubling back in shock before his palm on your back keeps you close.
Granting you breathing room if only for an instant, a slow grin tugs at the edge of his lips. 
“Then before I die, let me have this first.”
And he dives right back in again, kiss surprisingly tender compared to what you’d expected. Something bruising, dominating.
Instead, the King was soft. Soft as he held your cheek in a hand, soft when pulling you in by the waist.
Separating if only for a fraction of a second, you reach to hold his face, every instinct beckoning you to push him away dissipating into nothing but the nullified drone of your head and the insistent racing of your heartbeat.
“Are you that nervous, pretty? Your heart is-“
You pull him to your lips once more, hating how easy it is to forget, how his lips numb your thoughts—though unable to get enough.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
The guests hollering in your peripheral the lone sound breaching your eardrums, you can’t help thinking. 
He did this for his people just as you would’ve done. As for the Mage instigating the war, some secrets shall remain hidden, unable to be answered. You have to accept that among many things. 
The King has done nothing but care for you, and as much as you resent him for it, you respect him, if only a tiny bit, as well.
He’s irritable, and not to mention annoyingly handsome. His sympathy-filled eyes might be the death of you, and those dimples of his are stupidly lovable.
But he’s your husband, and somehow, strangely enough, you don’t find yourself hating the thought as much anymore.
Not when he holds you, and especially not when he kisses you as if it’s your last.
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After the many hours spent celebrating, you couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about returning to your quarters.
Joined by King Bahng, you find traversing as easy as ever with the help of the (half) Beast behind you, helping navigate past multitudes of people, oddly comforting touch on your back guiding you through the hallways.  
Arriving at your room, he pauses, awkwardly shifting his weight on his heels, bewitching gaze flitting left and right, uncharacteristic to his usually smug attitude.
“…Was the kiss too much?”
King Bahng, asking if his kiss was too much?
You wanted to photograph this moment in your mind forever, debating on whether you should tease him about it, egg the normally stoic King on. 
However, you tip his chin down, pressing a chaste, soft peck to his lips, amusedly observing him freeze before melting into your touch.
“Could be better.” 
He huffs a sigh in response, and you’re left wondering if this is the same man who threatened to break you, the one who now looks like a pouty toddler.
Although, just as you slip by, he takes ahold of your wrist. 
“Goodnight Y/N.”
You crack a smile.
“Good night Chris.”
And, suppressing your chuckle, you close the door behind you.
Hastily undressing into nightwear and slipping into bed, you stare up at the ceiling, hours passing from the ticking of a clock in the corner, echoing around the room. 
Then, abruptly, your door creaks open.
“My gods, what are you doing here?” You whisper into the darkness, the door creaking behind his crouched form, King Bahng’s crouched form.
“I needed to see you.”
Ah. Don’t say things like that. 
Pulling the covers further over yourself, you squint accusingly at the man as he enters, silencing your urge to reprimand he saw you mere hours earlier, presumptuously sitting opposite to you. 
He scans what’s visible, fixating on your hand for a moment.
“You kept the ring on?”
Noting the gleaming jewel on your ring finger, you can’t help but feel slightly bashful. It’s not like you’re really married, but the thought sends a sort of satisfaction spreading throughout your chest. 
“If I take it off, will it become winter again?”
He grins, giggling childishly. 
“Is that the only reason?”
Debating on your response, you wet your lips, looking back up at his barely distinguishable face shrouded in darkness.
You have no doubt he’s thriving off your hesitance. 
Oh how badly you wish to wipe that look clean, but in reality, keeping the ring on feels as if a part of you from your own kingdom is with you, similar to your old clothing.
The part of you that, if not invaded, would belong to someone loved, newly wedded.
“No,” You mutter, though the phrase is barely audible.
He perks up.
“Hm?”
You regret saying that. But he’s already heard, there’s no use lying aimlessly.
“I said no, that’s not the only reason.”
“Care to tell me the other reason?” 
Rapidly averting your attention to your hand, you discover speaking is easier when not looking at him. 
“Keeping it on makes me feel like I’m really in love. I like imagining that, being married.”
You miss the sad lilt crossing his face.
“We are married.”
Without missing a beat, you meet his stare.
“Are we?” 
Unlike before, there’s no waver to your voice, no caution. 
Winding around to your side of the bed, he settles beside your feet. 
You clear your throat.
“I wanted to see spring again, and to you, I’m simply a present. A playtoy to your disposal. This isn’t marriage, not how I was taught, this is just a business arrangement.”
Nevertheless, the hurt leaks into your voice. So long to a resilient tone. 
“Y/N, don’t do this to me.”
Come to think of it, it’s the first time he’s ever called you by your name apart from last night. 
Having had enough of his nonsense, you spring for his collar, dragging him below you on the bed. Opposite to earlier, you’re on top this time, you’re in control.
“You don’t deny it.”
A silence passes.
“I would deny it a thousand times, but you wouldn’t believe me. And I don’t blame you for that.” 
He sucks in a breath.
“I only ask you don’t doubt this marriage. This isn’t a business arrangement, and I will treat you with as much respect and love as possible, even if you don’t want me too. That is what marriage is, how I was taught.”
It’s your turn to inhale, lost within the confines of this dark space. 
“Chris, do you love me?”
You both have people you love, people you want to protect, wanted to protect. It wasn’t his intention to hurt you, not when he found you after you ran away, not when ordering a salve to keep you safe, nor now, as you lean above him. 
Like he told you. You weren’t meant to survive. You were supposed to be peacefully asleep, forever. 
This man, this Mage, this Beast, is as much a murderer as your savior. You choose how to condemn him. 
“I do, more than you could ever imagine.”
How can you stay mad at a guilty man, a man who kept you alive when you were on the brink of death? Who now professes to loving you, wanting to give you a marriage you’d been cheated of, give you everything you’ve been cheated of with everything in his power. 
Hovering right by his lips to the point your chests touch, you place a miniature kiss there.
“I hate you, so much.” 
Then another kiss.
His arms, wrapped around your more elevated form, drag you down in an embrace. One hand presses your face to his shoulder, another rubbing circles on your back. 
“And I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, sorry.”
Raising up, you can’t contain the tremor of your lip, the way your eyes shakily close shut as you steal a third kiss from his lips, a kiss he returns, hands carefully holding each side of your face.
“Chris?” You manage, currently straddling his lap, his body resting against the headboard. 
Kindly, he keeps a palm against your lower back, helping you balance.
“Can you show me what it means to be loved?”
You never understood how a person could melt until this moment. He wears that look again, like in the forest. The look that makes you cry.
What love looks like for Christopher Bahng, you don’t know. You have no doubt there will be ugly moments, moments you’ll reconsider, rethink. 
You’re both hurt, some wounds still hurting. But for him, for you, you’re willing to take that chance.
“I’d be honored.”
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FIC TAGLIST. @stayceebs97 @duhgirl @yourgirljanvi @readr1221 @spearbinnie0327 @hyunjinsartpeice @cheesytangerine @palindrome969 @luminouskalopsia @kiaralynn3838 @chrizztopher97 @starlost-andfound @weeping-angel-in-the-tard1s @zaggprincess2
sunboki, may 2022 ©
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violet-eng · 6 months
Text
Neuvillette and his arranged marriage with fem!reader - NSFW
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Summary: so... Furina is such a gossipy and she's kinda boring so she wants Neuvillette to marry to some random girl that can be a challenge for him... would he like this traveler?
TW: smut. Has a plot. Kinda angst? p i v. Breeding kink, praising. Unprotected sex with this daddy judge. I think that's all... MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE JUST KEEP SCROLLING.
🎨: @zlidbhypy/@zljdbhypy
💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦💦
The judge had lived long enough to be carried away by appearances, his image in society was expected of a man with his profession, with his knowledge and his stature. However, in the eyes of Lady Furina, as much a lover of spectacle and scandal as possible, the great judge needed a slightly more modern image to present to the citizens of Fontaine-and perhaps to bring a little gossip as well.
The idea had consumed her so much that at the moment she met you she could think of nothing else but arranging an engagement with Monsieur Neuvillette. You were the living image of what she was looking for: a young woman of society, a foreigner with a wide knowledge of the vast continent and above all, ambitious. 
There was a flash that Lady Furina highlighted in you, a furious soul difficult to tame, a challenge for the great judge. How fun it would be to see that: the distinguished gentleman try to control the disdain of his future wife, lover of saucers with spicy mixes, so friendly to those with vision Pyro... almost as contrary to him.
You met Neuvillette a day before the wedding, when Lady Furina had given him the wonderful news that he would marry you. He could not refuse, not the Archon, and she was aware of that-that made the matter more fun.
Neuvillette looked serene during the announcement, did not give the Archon the joy of a grimace of disgust... of course not, he was not like that...
On the wedding day rain fell so much as to drown the neighboring nations, tormenting those present of the ceremony. Monsieur Neuvillette was outside the compound, admiring the horizon, yearning for the freedom he possessed years before. To this had its existence been reduced? To be a puppet for the entertainment of the Archon? To tie himself for life to a woman he didn’t even know? If only he could return to his old form... spread his wings and get out of that place...
"The rain is wonderful," you exclaimed beside him, tearing from his chest an impression he managed to hide. "I hope the tears of the Hydro dragon are of happiness for the wedding and not of misery".
"They’re just legends, stories for children," he said, though an inch of him, deep down, was delighted by the idea that unlike the rest of Fontaine’s inhabitants, you didn’t dislike the rain... the one he was provoking...
"All legends have some truth in them," you whispered, giving him a sincere smile.
The ceremony had been short because of the rain, yet your happiness was overflowing. Your dress was drenched, your hair was alike... Everything was ruined, Lady Furina kept saying it, and yet you seemed to be living the best day of your life. Neuvillette could not look away from you at any moment, you had bewitched him, a single phrase had sufficed to achieve that...
The room was spacious, exquisitely decorated, illuminated to depth, the details and finishes seemed measured with hard effort... very much like the great judge. You had been unwise to ask if you had separate rooms, that had upset him for a moment... You certainly didn’t seem to have the same scruples as him.
You opened the window of the room, resting your elbows on the frame and sucking the dew that the rain brought with it. Neuvillette stood still in his place, looking at your figure, analyzing every detail of your silhouette, trying to perceive your essence, your energy... There was definitely something special about you.
"Can I come out?" you asked, were you asking permission?
"You must not ask for my consent to be free in the place" actually, he did not think it proper from you to ask permission for something… he perceived you from the first instant as a free being in tune with nature.
"It’s my way of asking you to go out with me to enjoy the rain," you said, approaching him and extending your hand. 
The thick drops of water hit the roofs, the fountain of the courtyard was about to overflow with water, the surface covered of the leaves that the wind had brought with it. You got rid of your coat and your shoes, went into the fountain and sat in the middle, above the water level, your legs dipping, you picked up the dress on your knees. The fabric was thin, almost transparent now that you were soaked and uncovered. Neuvillette scanned the surroundings, hoping no one would look at you, you were his wife... was he jealous? No, it was a simple sense of duty now that he was a married man...
"Come closer" you said from your position, pointing your finger at the place in front of you. Neuvillette, almost hypnotized by your loud attitude, dragged his feet towards your spot, sitting across from you, likewise, his legs underwater. The familiarity of the rain on the current that had formed under his feet was pleasant, almost satisfactory, so much so that it incited him to move his hands on the surface of the water, forming figures that allowed his hydro vision. You smiled at the small spectacle he displayed for you, admiring the sublime movement of his hands, the way his fingers flexed on the leaves and the drops of water ran down his hands.
You leaned toward him, taking him by surprise, joining your lips with his. He did not turn away, but, on the contrary, he dropped his hand against your neck, drawing you closer to him, tasting the nectar of your lips and your tongue.
"I want something to be clear" you dictated separating yourself from him, "we’ll have children... not because the charlatan Archon wants it for her entertainment, no... we will have children because we both want it, it was clear?".
For all the Archons... those words coming out of your mouth, pure poison, so hostile to the Archon, calling her in a way that he could never, with your face framed by your soaked locks and your lips swollen by the kiss... There was nothing he could want but a woman like you. 
The matter of your affinity for the falling flood, added to your folly of calling the archon such a derogatory name... you were an interesting, exceptional creature whose behavior went beyond his control and knowledge. You were a challenge... his challenge... and his enthusiasm grew in his chest as well as in his pants.
You had both returned to the room in sultry form, between kisses and gasps, getting rid of your clothes on the way. He cornered you on the wall of the entrance, his hand in fist resting above your head, his forehead against yours, the other hand holding your chin, joining his eyes. Neuvillette’s chest rose strongly, seeking air, bewildered by the growing ecstasy, the desire among you that was born. 
Taking you by the waist, he turned you against the wall, your face crashing against the cold marble and your palms resting at your sides. You felt his breathing on your neck, his chest against your back, his hands sliding over your curves, right to your hips, over your panties. You let out a soft moan as you felt the fabric slip under your legs and fall to your ankles.
"Monsieur..." you whispered trembling as the cold pouring through the room brushed your thighs and bare ass. 
"You don’t look as bold as you did a few minutes ago," he whispered... low, almost growling, you swore he was smiling, you sensed it in his voice.
"It’s... just... ah~" you cut the phrase in half when you felt him slip into you, separating your folds, forcing you to suck it. Your hands in fist, your hips rising, trying to avoid its passage inside you, your shoulders gathering at the sensation that flooded your center, your sex. 
"Monsieur~" you moaned, your forehead wet against the marble, your hands scratching the wall looking for something to soothe the burning between your legs, the feeling of its length between your damp walls.
You didn’t think the judge would be so vocal. When he slipped into you, he grunted, so pleasantly your legs seemed to melt. You felt the breath of his groan in your ear, your name coming from his lips.
"So soft" he whispered, resting his hands on yours, his forehead on your shoulder, "so tight..." continued advancing, rising to the bottom, "so mine"...
Neuvillette fucked you against that wall as if he was in heat-and perhaps he was-as if you were going to escape at any time from his grip, though you couldn’t. 
The moans and gasps were embarrassing, thanks to the rain they did not cross the walls, the sound of wet skin crashing during each penetration was burning, lustful. The words that came out of the judge’s mouth every time you girded your limb were a sea of incongruities, just as the phrases that your mouth dropped when he caressed your clitoris, that little lump had become his favorite toy.
The onslaught was strong, your breasts pounding against the wall every time he burst into you, rubbing against your delicate interior, which seemed made for him.
"You take me so well," he groaned, as he continued his beat against you, your breasts rising and falling down the wall. You were trapped between the wall and the monster of pleasure the judge had become.
"I will fill you with my seed, I swear..." he gasped again, his voice raspy, with flashes of hunger and lust.
"Neuvillette~" you let out a high-pitched moan, had touched your point, that felt so fucking good, the way he arched to hit that gummy dot on your cervix. He kept going, and kept going, you didn’t want him to stop. Fuck, he was so good at it, who’d say a gentleman of his countenance could be taking you like an animal in heat.
He kept hitting that delicious spot inside you, stroking your sensitive organ, one, two... three times, you suddenly felt a knot forming in your belly.
"Oh my~... don’t stop Neuvillette~..." you begged, eyes closed, lips separated by groans. The sound of his gasps flooding your eardrum... you both were close…
His onslaught lost rhythm, the intensity was almost unbearable, he came out one last time to get into you, fucking you so hard that you felt your orgasm burst and you let out a scream. He would not take long to reach his climax similarly, unloading all his seed inside you
The bed was warm, you needed it after what happened... Neuvillette lay beside you, caressing your cheek, watching the way you fell asleep. 
He looked out the window, the rain had stopped. He was completely happy... so long ago that he did not feel the fullness he had at the time... 
He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, curling your head in his chest, feeling the warmth of your gentle breathing. He closed his eyes, falling asleep beside you, yearning to tell you one day about his identity... someday…
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taiyaki-o · 1 month
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HI NEIGHBOR!
synopsis: your new next door neighbors are…interesting, to say the least.
gojo x gn!reader, non curse AU
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You live next door to a strange pair.
Not strange in a bad way, but strange as in they seemed more like brothers or distant cousins rather than father and son. Their attitudes and personalities were polar opposites, not to mention they looked nothing alike.
You’d met Gojo Satoru and Fushiguro Megumi the day they’d moved in, your doorway having been blocked by a couple boxes belonging to your new neighbors.
“Um, excuse me?” You tap the white haired man on the shoulder as he’s rummaging through a box, his back turned to you. He whips his head around, peering up at you over his round sunglasses with a questioning look on his face. You chuckle awkwardly. “Sorry, could you just move these out of the way? They’re yours, right?” You point to the boxes.
A look of slight embarrassment crosses his face and he laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, they’re ours. Sorry about that, uh…”
You figure that he’s pausing for your name, and you give it to him with a smile.
He extends a hand out with a smile of his own. “Gojo. Gojo Satoru,” he says, and you shake his hand. “Here, let me get these out of your way.”
You try to help as he starts moving boxes, only to be met with what you could only assume to be an entire set of Olympic weightlifting equipment with how unbelievably heavy it is.
“Jeez, what do you have in here?” You ask in a slightly incredulous tone. “And how are you picking that up so easily?”
Gojo laughs at your bemused expression.
“Been going to the gym recently. Guess it’s paid off,” he says with a confident smirk.
As he opens his mouth to speak again, a small, monotone voice interrupts him.
“Did you get my books yet?”
You turn around to see a spiky haired kid with a slight scowl standing in the doorway. Gojo jumps as he’s startled, before quickly clearing his throat and recollecting himself with a laugh.
“Just wait a bit longer, Megumi. I’ll get them as soon as these boxes aren’t blocking the nice person’s door,” he smiles, but the kid continues to scowl at him.
Megumi then looks at you: his face doesn’t soften, but you can see in his eyes that he simply doesn’t know how to talk to new people, especially adults. You greet him with a smile and a polite wave.
“Say hi, Megumi. Be nice,” Gojo scolds him lightly. Megumi bows his head, averting his eyes.
“Hi,” he finally says softly.
“Hi Megumi,” you smile at the boy softly. “You like reading?”
The boy nods shyly after a moment.
“Well, I’ve got some books you could borrow if you want. What kind of genres do you read?” You squat down to his eye level as Gojo continues moving boxes.
“…I like science books. And history.” Megumi twiddles his fingers, still not making eye contact.
“That’s so cool! You must be really smart,” you chuckle. His cheeks flush a little. “Wait right here,” you say, disappearing into your apartment before returning with a stack of National Geographic magazines, science books, and a number of other genres that Megumi hadn’t mentioned. You catch the way his eyes light up a bit at the stack, and you smile.
Gojo lets out a relieved huff, having moved the final box into the apartment and away from your door. He walks back out, but the scene in front of him makes him freeze, his jaw going slightly slack.
You and Megumi are sitting on the floor, open books scattered around the two of you, a gentle breeze from the still open door gently stirring the pages. Megumi’s expression shows the most emotion Gojo’s seen since meeting the boy, as his eyes widen in amazement as he reads over the words on the books. His gaze eventually lands on you, and he swears time stops.
The sun hits your face at just the right angle, the glow of your skin damn near angelic as he basks in the light and warmth of your soft smile. He thought you were pretty when he first saw you, but here? You laugh, and all he hears is a choir of the gentlest bells and the sweetest music. He could look at this forever, he thinks.
“Gojo! You’re back!” You notice him standing farther down in the entryway. He snaps out of his trance, the tips of his ears turning a shade darker.
“Y-yeah. Um- what are you- what’s going on?” God, he hates how you’ve reduced him to this. You haven’t even done anything!
“Megumi likes reading, so I thought I could let him borrow some of my books!”
“Really? Cool, yeah, very cool-“ Come on, Satoru, get it together!
You bid farewell to Gojo and Megumi eventually, and Megumi clutches his new hoard of texts as he watches you go back inside your own apartment. He waddles away, dumping the books on the recently set up couch and burying his nose in “A History of Greek Sculpture”. Gojo lingers at the door.
Was that your perfume he smelled? Or was it just the flowers blooming outside? What’s your favorite color? Your favorite food? What do you do in your spare time? What are your hobbies? Are you single? Can he be your boyfr-
“Oi. Grandpa.”
Gojo whips his head around incredulously. “Who’re you calling grandpa, you little brat?!”
Megumi, stoic as ever, looks at Gojo dead in his eyes. “Close the door. You’re letting bugs in.”
Gojo shuts his mouth and then the door.
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pt 2?
as of 3/23: pt 2 here!
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sxmmer-cherry · 20 days
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❝ あなたの愛を味わわせてください。 ❞
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⊱ OVERTURE — desperation does not fit suitably to their robust personalities, but even the most patient men can lose their calm should they be faced by a siren. but what exactly happened for them to be loosing their calm like this?
⊱ FEATURING — all genshin men.
⊱ NOTES — nothing, just me, my men, and my silly writing style of making even the most dirtiest things seem innocent🤭
🍷—masterlist. —the author. —leave a note. —navigate.
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⊱ GENSHIN MEN WHO DON'T THINK YOU LOOK AT THEM ENOUGH. who could identify you solely by touch should they ever be blinded someday because of the way they stare at you whenever they can— they study every dip, every dimple, mark and imperfection on your features and body alike and can't get over how beautiful you are. who think that you don't stare at them the same way and complain to you about it one day, looking akin to a little child complaining to his mother about why she wouldn't kiss him to sleep.
— men who cock a brow, hiding their shyness when you laugh at their words and shake your head, as though you simply can't believe they think that. who agree with a smirk when you challenge them— both of you try to put eyeliner on your eyes in the style of the others.
— men who apply your eyeliner perfectly on their eyes but mix up the colours a bit— the blue a bit dull and lighter. who simply are left awestruck when you mix the perfect shades and apply it just as smoothly on your eyelids, the colour suiting your soft skin and bright eyes. who can't help but stare with their jaw hanging at you when you smile at them knowingly.
— men who get so turned on they just can't help themselves from pressing kisses all over your shoulders and leave marks where they deem just perfectly visible, but stop themselves from seeing the act till the end— knowing that your tears would erase the perfect artwork and wait patiently till the night, filled with lust and desire; immediately pouncing on you behind closed doors while you can just laugh and tease them, ruffling their hair with an affectionate kiss.
AL HAITHAM, NEUVILLETTE, WANDERER, ZHONGLI, KAZUHA
⊱ GENSHIN MEN WHO HAVEN'T TOUCHED YOU FOR WEEKS. who have been crazy busy with work and the endless paperwork that comes with their post. who suddenly find their success in their job more a hindrance in between the two of you rather than a star on their immaculate reputation. who get even more impatient when they are suddenly posted to another nation entirely for a few weeks.
— men who try to postpone the program by a day or two and spend some spare time with you but fail when it's revealed it's a work of great importance. who would like to cave someone's face in when it's revealed that a diplomat had messed up and unnecessary complications had risen and any delay would be fatal for their inter-nation ties.
— men who get disappointed when you deny them intimacy in the bed, telling them that they need rest to be able to leave in the early morning. who try to pull you back but simply can't deny your command when you push them back to bed, pulling the covers over them and sleeping in the guest room, realizing they will definitely try to start something if you sleep next to them. who send letters to you the entire time they are outside, unable to function properly without your touch and kisses.
— men who get all over you as soon as they return. who control themselves from looking at you too much lest another unholy thought invade their mind and they have to excuse themselves. who love the passion with which you kiss them back as soon as they have you all to themselves— who genuinely can't engage in foreplay out of desperation and make sure to cover your mouth this time, lest you put another restriction of morality or people on them.
AETHER, AYATO, CHILDE, XIAO, CAPITANO, GOROU
⊱ GENSHIN MEN WHO LOVE YOUR WITTY BANTERS. who are born assholes and love annoying you to no end— and are obsessed with the way you answer them right back in the same tone. who love the glint of annoyance in your eyes when they talk non-stop about the most idiotic things or mutter nonsense in your ear as you're trying to do something but manage to say nothing for at least half an hour, hoping they'll grow tired and leave.
— men who love that warning side-eye you pass after a while, visibly fuming with anger. who talk louder after that and reply quickly with an annoying comeback when you say something. who laugh at your tired look. who genuinely want to tuck your hair behind your ears but know you will snap their finger should they try.
— men who expect you to give another clever little comeback just so that they can say more nonsense and piss you off, just to rile you up a little more— but when you take none of their shit and pin them down on the ground, hands circling their neck and knee parting their legs, they are shaded a deeper shade of crimson, pretending as though this is not what they had been secretly fantasizing since the past five days. who lose it when you are about to do them undone but leave halfway, that devilish smirk on your features as you wink at them and leave, fully aware they can't bring themselves pleasure the way you do.
ITTO, HEIZOU, KAVEH, LYNEY, VENTI
⊱ GENSHIN MEN WHO CAN'T HELP BUT TURN TO LOOK AT YOU. who think they are a genius for having picked out that particular piece for you, and then deciding that if it were in shades of green and pink it would look prettier. who then passed by a jewellery shop and spotted that diamond choker necklace and fantasized about you in it—twisting and turning with flittering mischief as you often do; the diamond's shine enhanced by your glittering smile. who then pick out that earring from a remote box in the corner and ask you to wear it.
— men who don't mean to make you that red and shy but who genuinely can't stop complimenting you. who stare at you from head to toe and then back from toe to head. who now feel jealousy over all the other people who get to stare at your beautiful self and thirst over you because that right is only theirs. who press you back down against the dressing table and make out with you before you can apply the lipstick and you have to push them back, laughing when their hands start reaching for your chest.
— men who glare at anyone who looks at your way for more than a minute. who lick their lips and try not to let their thoughts show on their body. who hold themselves back from letting any image of the wild night in store for you today solidify in their head. who smile knowingly when you make direct eye contact with them and you have to look away, covering your ears.
— men who tie you to the bed post as soon as the moment is perfect, their lips on your pulse, your nape, your shoulders—their lips everywhere as they slowly strip every clothing off of you all but your necklace and earrings, teasingly slow until you beg them to go quicker and they compensate for it in their thrusts, their desire overwhelming your senses until you're left crying their name out unintelligibly.
DILUC, WRIOTHESLEY, PANTALONE, DAINSLEIF, BAIZHU
⊱ GENSHIN MEN WHO THINK YOU'VE BEEN TEASING THEM the whole day. who ignore it when you kiss them right on the lips and accidentally brush your chest against their hand. who also ignore it when you bow down right in their face to pick up a pillow. who also ignore it when you sit on their lap, almost grinding against their thigh. but who really can't ignore it when you smile suggestively at them and they can't contemplate it anymore, simply smirk back in return.
— men who know how to hold themselves back and tease you. who kiss you at that one spot near your shoulder blade that has you squirming every time. who trap you when you're washing the utensils and brush against you, leaving you to contemplate their act. who have no problem giving you what you want— but where's the fun if you don't have to beg for it?
— men who watch your actions the whole day, laughing when you pout slightly at them. who kiss you and maintain eye contact expectantly and you get them right away, and with great shame, beg them to touch you. and then all of a sudden— a switch flips and they pin you down, one hand on your waist, and the other pinning your wrists down, ensuring you don't move. who hungrily devour you and you take it, equally desirous of the taste of lust.
— who go agonizingly slow initially, forcing you into silence as they remind you of all the occasions in the day you tried to seduce them— and make you admit it, that yes, i did and i'm sorry for it. who smirk then, and suddenly increase their pace, making you scream in pleasure as you hold on to their arms for support. men who are just as generous with their aftercare, teasingly dragging their fingertips across your sensitive skin, something that almost always leads to a second round. not that you can complain when they please you that well though.
ALBEDO, KAEYA, CYNO, TIGHNARI, DOTTORE
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genshinology · 1 year
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AN INFLUENTIAL MAN’S COMPANION (OR IS IT MORE?!)
(alternatively, how they are dropping hints left and right that you are more than just a friend.)
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— PAIRINGS ; alhaitham, ayato & childe x gn!reader (separate)
— CONTENT ; oblivious!reader, may contain a spoiler from sumeru's story quest on alhaitham's, mentions of childe's real name (ajax), reader is addressed as “little bug” in childe's (please, it's just a poorly written joke, i swear).
— NOTES ; don't care what everyone says but a man that has the power and money is definitely a man that i want. wrote this on a whim so 'm sorry for the horrible writing and the lack of details in this.
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☆ — ALHAITHAM
"why are you so dense?" alhaitham's question caught you off guard, considering the fact that you were so immersed with yet another history book of teyvat in the akademiya's house of daena.
his sudden question made you unknowingly gazed at him with annoyance (it wasn't your fault though, not when he actually interrupted your reading of the fourth chapter), and you quickly bookmarked the page you had last read before actually paying full attention to the scribe across you.
"dense is not really a word to describe me. i think i catch on things around me quite fast," you huffed out, exaggeratedly bumping your forehead onto the desk. a silent thud was heard afterwards, not necessarily loud enough for other people to hear, but alhaitham definitely caught on the hint you mentally saying that you were bored and the fact that he took away the only form of your entertainment by taking away the thick book from you made you squinted your eyes at him.
your eyes prying at his action. he was an unpredictable man, so you couldn't question what he did. especially when the question of, "do you know what is the context of this book?" suddenly came out from his mouth.
"uhm.. yes?" you stopped thinking too deep when alhaitham's gaze zeroed straight into you, signalling that you should be answering his question more precisely. "a book about teyvat; the seven nations, the archon war, the history, the irminsul, the heavenly principles, the fatui, the abyss—
"ah yes, sounds like classified information, isn't it?" alhaitham cut you off, showing the old cover page with a knowing look that you couldn't really decipher. "you do realise that this book comes from the restricted repository room?" alhaitham was questioning you, slightly smiled when he saw how the gears in your brains were slowly turning and you finally understood what he was trying to point out.
"wait. you are right. it makes sense now, how incomplete certain details are since the book itself covers forbidden knowledge.." you put your right palm underneath your jaw, still in disbelief at the fact that the book in his hold was a restricted material for general use to the scholars and the public.
"not really the brightest mind," he paused. "that's why i said you are, indeed, a slow-witted person," he shook his head, his own work was slowly forgotten amidst the conversation he accidentally forced you into.
"that is just saying 'stupid' in a more formal manner. i am truly offended," you sighed, noting the way alhaitham seemed taken aback at the last sentence you gave to him.
alhaitham could only put down the book in front of you. "..and i am offended as well. you don't even think that i am using my authority to give you access to this one book you have been super interested in these days, haven't you?"
he turned away after seconds of eye contact, especially when your eyes widened and you felt how your cheeks were hurting due to the shock. "you.. did this for me? not exactly the first thing i would think of, especially if it's from the scribe of the akademiya."
you smiled, way too wide and alhaitham thought he was holding his breath for a moment. "thank you, you're so kind."
'kind' wasn't what he really expected you to say, specifically when he, himself, wasn't filled with kindness and tenderness alike. the you that he knew would be instantly flustered if you ever knew the true meaning of his intention when he first directed you with those questions.
he could only laughed heartlessly at your statement, thinking that you must have never received this much attention from someone, or that you really treated him as a true friend.
"i do not do this for some mere scholars, just so you know that you are exceptional."
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☆ — AYATO
"my lord," you bowed down, giving ayato the respectable approach that he deserved. "is there something you would like me to help?"
ayato was a diligent and a busy man, that was the first thing you had noticed when he first took you right under his wing. his smile specifically was something you swore would be your death one day, he was too charming for your own good.
"come here," his bright face made you ten times more nervous than ever. "also, please, drop the formalities. we are hidden from the public view."
the last sentence was way too intimate, but you decided that it must have been his figure of speech.
"yes, my lord—i mean, ayato," you slightly cringed at the way his name rolled off your tongue not-so-eloquently. something about calling him by his name, even without his family name, felt super uncivil to you.
he had done so much for you, so to hear his request of doing what you had been accustomed to was hard.
so you could only stumble forward awkwardly, hands clasping together to stop yourself from shaking a little bit too much. why did he always bring out the nervousness within you in private? did he really had these effects?
"here, sit down," ayato's calligraphy pen halted its movement, and it didn't help to calm you down when he patted the sit beside his chair.
"i'm sorry, my lord," the title accidentally slipped away nonetheless, and you decided to ignore the look in his eyes—as if he was hurting by the fact that you didn't address his name, but he possibly couldn't be that childish, it was the commissioner after all—as he quickly regained his composure. "you need my help to assort these paperworks?"
"it is fine, y/n," oh, the fact that he didn't address your first name made you knew he did feel slightly dejected.
you quickly made up your action by swiftly gliding onto the chair he already pulled out underneath his study. for a moment, you were stunned at the act of a gentleman he usually did to you. he was so kind, and you knew that you were super lucky to have him as your employer.
"i don't want you to do anything today. you can rest up until tomorrow," he said, slightly rummaging some precious items he kept in the drawer. you knew those items in there were far more important to him, especially when it also had his late father's will that was neatly preserved in the sakura-scented letter he and ayaka made a long time ago. it was honestly a cute activity for them now that you reminisced the memory.
"is there any occasion? or you will be away?" you asked him, and you could see his eyes lightened up at the way his hand reached out to yours, and you were left baffled.
his hand was warm, that was the first thing you noted. besides when you felt something smooth in your palm, you questioned the foreign thing in your hand.
it was a necklace, with a lighter hue of blue as its pendant. your intrusive thought won you over as you saw how the pendant resembled ayato's hydro vision to an extent. it was ethereal, at least in your eyes.
by the feel of it, you already knew this necklace's worth had already exceeded your wage.
"ayato?"
"it is for you. i was buying one for ayaka when i was reminded of you, y/n," he warmly explained, his sincere eyes were too much for you as you avoided his eye contact.
your beating heart felt dangerous as ever. his hands were still engulfing yours, as if to keep you from shying away.
"take it. it would mean a lot to me."
"thank you, sir-ayato," you corrected yourself, and ayato thought it was adorable of you to stutter around him.
his heart was content when you thanked him over and over again.
if giving the necklace was a metaphor to his love letter, then he would be overjoyed when he saw you roaming around his estate with the necklace on you the next day.
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☆ — CHILDE
"today's a really nice day," childe sighed happily, as he picked you up from the ground, and you repeatedly punched his back, flailing in his arms to put you down.
"ajax!" you gasped, who wouldn't be in shock, when you were literally caught off guard by his attack and then your feet weren't touching the snowy path anymore. "put me down."
"ehem, manners, please," he faked a cough.
you could only kick around, although none of your actions would actually affect him physically. "i am almost going to swear at you, you know?"
"put me down, please," you tried to whisper into his ear, so that he would feel ticklish by the air that escaped from you.
"gross," he commented, and before you knew it, he already let you go from his somewhat soothing hold onto your body. "need to disinfect my ear after this."
you slapped his arm after hearing his bad joke, roughly enough to get his focus onto you. "let me do it with the bug spray i have at home. i hope it'll cleanse your whole soul too."
"touché," childe cracked a smile at hearing you almost choked on your breath. "aren't you my little bug?"
"don't you have a cuter nickname for me? seriously, bug? out of all lovelier things on this world?" at this point, you had already clinging onto childe's side, hyper aware at some people who had been watching the playful fight between you two for some time now.
childe noticed the way you practically glued to him, your hand fisting the sweater he wore, and childe could only thought that your ministration would only bring a misunderstanding, especially that one which people always commented on when they saw both of you.
"look at you two."
childe could only smile at the old lady that passed by him. "couple fights are normal, until the old days. i hope you're having a great time," the old lady patted your back, and when you were about to clear the misunderstanding he had always loved, the old lady left.
"w-what?" you turned to childe whom somehow looked at you fondly, and you could only voiced out your opinion on the cold day. "that old lady is not making any sense."
"—and you, ajax," you continued when you caught childe slacking from paying his full focus attentively to you, as he only shrugged his shoulder. "...are you really going to leave again?"
"hm?" he hummed, and thought to himself that you were so adorable in his spare sweater, fighting against the chilly wind and hesitating to actually say that you would miss him if he went to liyue for his work again.
"of course. it is my duty for the tsaritsa, and no, you won't be going to join me this time. have you forgotten when you almost got hit by the fatui because they were belittling you?" childe quickly cut you off when he saw how your lips twitching at his words, knowing too well that you would suggest the idea of venturing to liyue with him. the last time he accepted your idea, he almost blamed himself fully if one of his subordinates hurt you. he could only thank the archons that nothing too severe happened on you.
"b-but—
"and, our date for today went exceptionally well, wasn't it? you won't miss me like you have always did before," he winked, and you almost threw your fist at his face if you could. "i am going there for a week. i'll be back before you know it."
"right. let's stop now before your teasing goes too far ahead of yourself," you rolled your eyes, and only did you notice that you were still holding him dearly.
you quickly pulled your hand, and childe swore he had already missed the way you stayed close by his side. he was definitely smitten, he knew it.
"thank me later for wasting my money on you," childe laughed at the way you tried to run away from his grasp.
if he could, he would voice out loud that he really didn't care about his money, as long as you were happy with him, and it frustrated him a little bit that you really thanked him for that when all he wanted to say was that he loved you too.
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wileys-russo · 5 months
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like a dumb rom com II k.cooney-cross x catley!reader
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like a dumb rom com II k.cooney-cross x catley!reader
you bopped your head along to the music which was blasting from the speaker on your bedside table, for once home alone and able to have it up as loud as you wanted.
your textbooks lay open and spread around you on your bed as you scrolled through a gruelingly long article on your laptop, sticky notes plastered all over your legs as you tried your hardest to retain what you were attempting to study.
you sighed looking at your calendar on the wall, another flurry of color coded sticky notes mapping our your schedule for the rest of the month. people could call you a lot of things but you were anything but disorganized, you simply couldn't be in order to juggle your studies and have a full time professional football career.
you'd loved football from the moment you were old enough to kick a ball, following quickly in your siblings footsteps as your poor parents lives quickly became encapsulated by all three of your routines.
different teams and matches to watch every weekend, travelling back and forward to games and tournaments, weeks full of multiple training's and commitments, food crumbs in cars where dinners and snacks were smashed in the back seat from destination a to b.
you almost felt like they deserved the peace and quiet of an empty house once you'd all moved out, your brother no longer playing having viewed it as more of a hobby than a career once he got older.
but no matter the driving and the games and the fees they were always your proudest supporters. especially when both you and your sister had made your national team debuts, first as junior matildas and then into the senior teams, you always following a few steps behind steph.
when she'd moved over to london to sign with arsenal and you'd stayed at melbourne victory you'd missed her, but you were confident that a little bit of distance in your football careers would be a good thing for the both of you to grow as players.
then a couple of years later after your olympic debut had come your own offers from overseas, european and super league teams alike all reaching out to your agent eager to offer you your first international professional contract.
it was overwhelming to look at sums and salaries and contracts you could have only ever dreamed of in your youth, your deadline to make a decision coming in hard and fast you weren't any closer to making the final call.
thats when your national team mates had stepped in and suddenly you were getting calls of encouragement and gentle attempts at persuading to join them at their various clubs once it started to leak out just who had made you offers.
the least gentle of all though was of course from your older sister, who all but chewed your ear off that you were even thinking about accepting any clubs beside the one she'd called her home for a couple of years now, caitlin and lydia both quick to back her up.
you'd been the most hesitant at arsenals offer and once you were honest with steph about your reasons why her approach softened significantly. she was fast to assure you that she'd had nothing to do with it at all and had only overheard the coaching staff discussing potential new signings that afternoon.
then came the assurance that she wanted you there with her, and that despite your own insecurities she'd never ever seen it as you copying her or riding her coat tails. her heart broke a little that you could be so dismissive of your own skills and talent that had lead to all of the multitude of offers in the first place.
knowing this was a decision that ultimately you needed to make, and with a quiet reminder from dean that the tighter she held on the further you'd pull away, she left you to make the call of your own accord, doing her very best to ignore the temptation to call you and check in daily about if you were any closer to pulling the trigger.
then a few days later came the video from melbourne victory, the signing post from arsenal and your own bitter sweet goodbye to your home country and the team you'd called family for the last three seasons.
at both your mum and sisters insistence you'd moved in with steph and dean so your sister could first hand make sure you were settling in, and so your mum could sleep at night knowing you had family looking out for you in a foreign country.
you'd settled in quickly and comfortably of course. just like steph you'd always been outgoing and bubbly, never shying away from making a new friend or striking up a conversation, and suddenly you were adopted right into the team as if you'd been there for years, your football family expanding.
back to present day and you were reveling in a rare night in to yourself, steph and dean having gone out for a nice meal together as you dedicated your evening to your studies.
it was peak exam season and mid wsl season which meant you were battling your way through, mostly on top of everything thanks to your calendar and onslaught of sticky notes.
but given your loud music what you failed to hear were the taps at your window over and over, too engrossed in your studies and mumbling along the lyrics to the 1975 song in your ear, a band both you and your sister harbored quite a shared love for.
steph had gotten you tickets for your twenty first birthday earlier this year and the next day at training both of you had been teased relentlessly for your distinct lack of voice from spending the evening screaming along to all of your favourite songs.
failing to hear the gentle taps at your window, you also missed the creak of it being thrown all the way open and the gentle thump of feet falling to your carpet.
"jesus christ babe are you deaf?" you certainly heard that.
you let out a strangled scream at the sudden unexpected voice, spinning around and falling backwards off your bed, hitting the floor with a loud groan as your girlfriends eyes widened and she hurried to help you up.
"what the fuck is wrong with you? why the fuck would you do that?" you shouted angrily after she helped you up, pushing harshly at her chest and sending her stumbling as she just caught her footing.
"i was tossing rocks at your window and you ignored me, i thought you might have been asleep!" kyra defended holding her hands up as you went at her again but thought better of it, your heart beat starting to gently slow down as you recovered from your shock.
"so your reaction to me being asleep was to..break in?" you scoffed, smacking her leg as she whined and pulled a face, mumbling how she was just trying to be romantic.
"why didn't you just message me or come to the front door? i'm home alone you idiot i thought you were a murderer or something!" you shot her an unimpressed glare as the girl gave you a sheepish smile.
"i thought it would be more romantic this way! like those dumb rom coms we love." she pouted and from that moment you could no longer be properly mad at her.
"just lucky you live a few feet off the ground, bit worried i'd fall and break my neck if i had to scale a drain pipe to get to your window." the midfielder grinned as you couldn't help but bite back a small smile at her adorable dimples.
"next time warn me ky instead of giving me a heart attack. i could have hurt you!" you warned, making the girl send you an amused smile, taking a seat on the corner of your bed as you started to tidy up your mess of study materials on the bed.
"and how exactly would you have done that babe? hit me with a book? stabbed me with a pencil? assaulted me with your tiny little baby hands." the girl grinned teasingly, poking at you as you smacked her away with a huff.
"they are not tiny! they're normal sized and they're barely smaller than yours." you glared at her, standing to move your books and laptop over to the desk you should have been studying at in the first place.
"helloo!" the girl sung out, suddenly stood in front of you as you turned, arms now free she wasted no time pulling you into a hug, your chins resting on one anothers shoulders as you relished in the feel of your skin finally in contact with hers.
"i missed you today." you sighed having had to take the day off training to complete an exam, though you were studying online you still needed to go into the distance education office to take your exams which was located in camden.
"missed you more book worm." you might have rolled your eyes but really it was the cheeky comments and consistent flirty banter between the two of you that had caused you to fall for her alluringly mischievous charm in the first place.
having kissed on a night out when you both played for melbourne victory you'd danced around your feelings for far too long, mutually chalking it up to a drunk mistake.
but it seemed you just couldn't keep away from one another and with each moment apart the two of you either on the phone or texting, a few more sober kisses shared now, you'd made it official during prep camp for the world cup, over the moon to both be selected in the final squad.
a few of your close friends knew not long after you'd made it official, having been by both of your sides during the in denial but hopelessly pining over one another stage.
you were quick to tell ellie who was always your roommate on national duties, the blonde practically tackling you to the floor with a sigh of relief she no longer needed to watch the 'slow lovesick burn'.
then kyra of course told her own little football family, charlie first and then katrina who'd given you both a shovel talk about the importance of treating one another with respect and how she wouldn't hesitate to smack either of you into line.
but beyond that you kept it mostly to yourselves, the two of you had always been close so no one thought much of how touchy and affectionate you were, having been that way long before you were anything more than friends no one thought differently.
then when kyra had joined arsenal after the world cup everything seemed to fall into place, the two of you finally able to give your relationship a proper go without hours of time difference and thousands of kilometers of distance between you to be a barrier anymore.
there was just one glaringly unspoken issue and that was that both of you were far too terrified to make your relationship common knowledge, which really was only because you were even more terrified of what your older sisters reaction might be.
a few of the arsenal girls like teyah and gio who you'd been close with since your signing had caught on quite quickly, but promised to keep it hushed.
being on the younger side of the squad had meant you'd gained a whole handful of older sisters alongside steph and again it hadn't taken long before again they'd picked up on your change in mood now kyra was around, but most had kept their observations to themselves.
unlike leah who cornered you after training, your vice captain getting the truth out of you in record time with a stern look and a few well worded questions, and of course she couldn't keep the information away from lia or beth.
so as the list of your team mates who knew the truth about you and kyra grew, so did your plaguing anxieties that someone would slip up and alert steph.
despite knowing you easily the best out of everyone it amazed you that somehow she herself hadn't caught on, you and kyra having made a few clumsy mistakes where she could have easily put the pieces together.
after your first major argument with kyra over something so stupid you could hardly remember what it was even about, you'd turned up on caitlins front door step with tear stained cheeks both for comfort and some advice knowing there wasn't a chance you could speak with steph who was always your go to person.
you knew you needed to come clean and the longer you put it off the more strain it put on your relationship with kyra and the worse you worried for steph's reaction given how long you'd kept her in the dark for.
"i really should study for another hour ky." you hummed, reaching out for your laptop as kyra tutted, moving you away from your desk with her body still wrapped around yours. "lets go look at your schedule babe." she ordered as you moved toward your calendar.
"kyra!" you exclaimed in surprise, seeing a few new sticky notes replace your old ones. "oh look, give kyra a cuddle? check." she wiggled her body against yours where it clung to the back of you making you smile.
"give kyra a kiss." she craned her head around and pressed her lips sweetly to yours as you shook your head but gave in, indulging her for a moment. "what's next? study? mmm don't see that on here for tonight." kyra hummed, finger reaching out to trail down your new list as you sighed.
"when did you even change this? you've been here for like five seconds." you laughed in disbelief at how fast she could be. "i didn't change anything!" she gasped in mock offence.
"oh look! watch movies and make kyra her favourite snack. guess we have to do that then babe, you do live by your schedule!" kyra grinned cheekily, letting go of you and making a beeline for your door, holding out her hand expectantly.
"you are unbelievably sneaky sometimes cooney cross." you smiled, crossing your arms and staring her down. "who, me? never!" she beamed, wiggling her fingers for you to take her hand as you did so with a dramatic sigh as if it was a chore, causing her to attack your face with kisses and pull you out of your room.
having followed through with your 'schedule' you'd made both of your favourite snacks and settled into the living room to watch a movie, kyra's choice of course given you knew if she wasn't into the movie there wasn't a chance she'd sit still through it.
"hey where's calvy?" your girlfriend realised suddenly, pulling her head out of your lap and looking around with a frown. "its taken you this long to realise he isn't here? he's normally jumping on you in seconds ky!" you laughed as kyra rolled her eyes.
"he's with steph and dean they found some dog friendly outdoor bistro they could take him with them for dinner, you know what steph's like with her son." you smiled in amusement, the four legged canine loved and looked at more like your nephew than a dog.
"aw and they left you here all alone." kyra cooed, reaching up to squish your cheeks as her head settled back in its previous place in your lap. "please! its a rare blessing." you mumbled as well as you could given the way your face was being poked and pulled at by the brunette.
"shut up and watch your silly kids movie." you wrenched her hands away from your face and placed them by her sides before tangling yours in her hair again, massaging her scalp gently as she sighed contentedly, tucking one of her hands up your top to rest dormant on your abs, determined to have at least some of her skin on yours at all times.
"it is not a kids movie. it's a comedy film!" kyra defended, eyes glued to the screen as you only hummed with an amused smile, melting into the sofa cushions wrapped up in your little bubble of comfort.
it wasn't long until both your attention spans wavered and you found your lips locked with kyra's, both your hands roaming one anothers bodies. the air was filled with your giggles and sweet nothings as you once again fell head over heels for the girls effortless charm, throwing your head back with a laugh at a particularly cheesy pick up line mumbled into your neck.
that giddy little love bubble burst the moment you heard the jingle of keys and australian accents which didn't belong to you or kyra invading the space, and the pitter patter of paws hurtling toward you as you both quickly broke apart.
you'd just settled with a decent gap between you as calvin arrived, launching himself on top of you with a few licks hello, jumping across to greet kyra before dean called him away.
"oh hi ky!" steph greeted with a warm smile as she appeared next, kyra quick to her feet to hug her hello. "see kyra hugs me hello. she's got manners!" your sister teased as you blew her a sarcastic kiss, unmoving from your position on the couch.
"i see you every day stephanie i hardly feel the need to hug you hello when you've been gone a few hours!" you laughed with a roll of your eyes. "i've technically not seen you all day." she countered, taking a seat in between you and kyra.
"how did your exam go peanut?" the defender questioned with a concerned look, not having spoke with you since you'd left for camden this morning a nervous wreck.
"steph what have i said about calling me that!" you ignored her question with an annoyed groan, throwing your head back and shooting kyra a glare over your sisters shoulder as she laughed at your expense.
"that you hate it and not to call you it but i will always call you it because you're my little peanut!" the blonde cooed, pinching your cheeks and shaking your head side to side, with almost eight years between you she'd always babied you in a sense and though sometimes it was welcomed most of the times you despised it.
"i wish i was adopted." you grimaced, smacking her hands away with a roll of your eyes. "not too late. i'm sure we can find a nice family willing to take in a moody twenty one year old who can't cook, can't clean, whinges and moans about everything, doesn't do her own laundry, eats her salary in groceries-" steph started to list things off on her fingers as your eyes widened and you kicked her.
"none of that is true!" you scoffed with a scowl, once again sending your girlfriend an unimpressed glare as she clutched at her stomach with laughter. "see even your best mate agrees, you're a grub!" steph ruffled your hair and stood to her feet.
"i'm a grub? have you met the six foot three toddler we live with?" you pointed toward the kitchen, referencing your sisters fiance and soon to be brother in law.
"oi! don't throw me under the bus to cover your own ass." dean yelled back, the two of you always having gotten on like a house on fire which was one of the many reasons steph was so in love with him.
"did you drive here ky?" the older catley questioned with an amused smile, kyra getting the unsung hint it was time to head home as you sent her a look to assure she could stay, but there wasn't a use.
"yeah, i'll head off now." the midfielder smiled warmly, again hugging your sister as you were quick to your feet now to walk her out, kyra yelling goodbye to dean before you both stepped out the front door.
"do you want a lift tomorrow? we could get brekky and a coffee?" you offered hopefully, the two of you lingering just out of sight, kyra eagerly agreeing already looking forward to getting you alone for even just a half an hour.
"coast?" the brunette questioned as you peered subtly around the corner, not seeing either steph or dean in the kitchen through the window. "clear." you grinned, barely able to get the word out before her lips were on yours and your back was pressed against the cool brick of the side of the house.
"okay okay, easy tiger!" you laughed quietly, pulling away as her tongue slipped into your mouth, well aware that the two of you could be caught at any moment. "few more." kyra smiled cheekily, pecking your lips repeatedly as her hands gripped your hips.
"i'll get you round nine?" your hands settled on her cheeks, thumbs stroking her jawline, training not starting until eleven thirty given tomorrow was a double session. "make it eight and we can smooch for an hour? teyah has early rehab." kyra countered with a charming grin as you nodded your agreement.
"i hate when you say smooch." you laughed against her lips, kissing her one final time before pushing her off, knowing the longer you hung about outside the larger the chance grew steph would come to check what was going on.
"which is exactly why i say it. goodnight lover!" the girl bowed to you making you gag. "i hate that more! goodnight you dickhead. text me when you get home yeah?" you frowned, kyra quick to promise you she would before she dissapeared into the night.
returning inside you weren't surprised to find your sister and her fiance curled up together on the sofa, not dissimilarly to how you and kyra had been prior to their arrival, calvin asleep in his bed on the floor.
"you gonna watch with us?" steph craned her head back to look at you, i'm a celebrity loaded on the television. "are the two of you going to make out like horny teenagers?" you questioned, knowing exactly how they could be after their little date nights.
"probably." dean grinned in response as you gagged and steph hit him lightly with a smile. "hey you never answered me before! how did your exam go chicken?" steph called out before you could leave, again an eye roll greeting her choice of nickname.
"good i think? i finished before the timer and i remembered most of my arguments. one more and i'm done! then a five week fucking break." you moaned happily, stretching your hands behind your head.
"excuse me are those mine?" your sisters eyes narrowed, pointing to the peter alexander pyjama shorts you currently had on. "noo." you smiled guiltily, grateful she couldn't see you also had on the matching shirt beneath your hoodie.
"you are such a menace." steph sighed with a shake of her head, normally she'd be on top of you in seconds demanding you give back whatever you'd stolen, but knowing she'd actually worn one of your favourite pair of trainers out to dinner and you hadn't yet noticed she decided against that course of action.
"love you steffy!" you grinned, dipping off to the kitchen to fill your water bottle, pulling a face of horror as you returned to find the two of them attempting to eat one anothers face.
"god can you at least wait until i've left the room?" you gagged in disgust as they pulled apart. "can you hurry?" steph smirked making you pull another face and whistle for calvin to follow you.
"no leave him!" your sister attempted but the fluff ball was already padding happily after you toward your room. "i'm saving him years of therapy from having to watch his parents go at it. goodnight sickos!" you saluted sarcastically, your door closing with a thud as calvin made himself comfortable on the end of your bed.
doing your nightly routine you returned to bed with your skin soft and your teeth brushed, smiling at the text from kyra that she was home safe, clicking the facetime icon beside her contact, the two of you normally falling asleep together.
you smiled happily as she accepted, propping her phone up as she brushed her teeth and the two of you chattered away, blissfully unaware of what was to greet you in the week to come.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
part two
780 notes · View notes
woniverse-writes · 7 months
Note
Hey so I’ve been a huge fan of all your works with Bada and I was wondering if you could do a request for me with bada.
So reader is in BEBE and is born in 1997 which makes her the 2nd oldest in the group but she tends to be almost like the maknae ,always laughing (obviously very serious when it comes to dancing) smiling (not always acting cute it annoys me 🙃) and like how Bada, Lusher, Tatter, Kyma, Minha, Cheche, and Soweon always look at her in like adoration.
Obviously you can change it/interpret how you want too.
And I’m very sorry if it doesn’t make sense
Thanks ☺️
“Sweet Bebe”
bada lee x teammate!reader
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summary: being one of the oldest members of your crew typically meant you were supposed to look out for the younger members, which you still do! except everyone seems to be looking out for you more due to your clumsy and energetic personality.
word count: 3.3k
warnings: the first 600-ish words have like- nothing to do with Bada and it's all backstory i'm so sorry lmao, i don't really like how this turned out but i hope you do, not proofread
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Typically being one of the oldest members of any team or crew meant you had to carry some sort of authority or responsibility… that was not the case for Y/n. being the second oldest member of the dance crew Bebe, meant absolutely nothing to her on most days. She did happen to take on the motherly role a lot of the time, but more so in a fun, cutely caring for her members type of way. It was almost as if she took care of her members by letting them take care of her. The youngest teammates specifically liked to baby her, getting a kick out of their cute older sister.
Even before it had been decided that the crew would come together for Street Woman Fighter season 2, the girl had been just as lively and attentive to her friends, always making sure to have a positive energy and smile on her face when in the studio.
Y/n and Bada had known each other since the younger was in college. She had begun training under SM in her last year of middle school, focusing on becoming a vocalist at the time, but transitioned into focusing on dance in her second year of high school. Y/n was a part of SM Rookie and had almost debuted with Red Velvet at the same time as Yeri, but ultimately the company decided they only wanted to add one member and thought Yeri was a better fit. When she entered university, she stopped training to be an idol but decided to stick with dance, majoring in performance and choreography. By the time she was 19 she was already choreographing for some big groups. 
Y/n’s first step into the kpop industry was when she worked with Lia Kim on Twice’s “TT”, coming up with the iconic hand gesture herself, but many don’t associate her with the dance since she wasn’t credited at first as a rookie choreographer. By the time she did receive credit, people already knew the choreography as solely Lia Kim’s. But the younger girl wasn’t phased, seeing as she was invited back a little less than a year later to choreograph Twice’s “signal” all by herself.
The young choreographer began to gain even more recognition after working on “Likey”, coming up with three different versions of the dance break and eventually posting all three to her social media accounts. She continued working with Twice and choreographed for “Heart Shaker”, “Candy Pop”, “What is Love”, “Dance the Night Away”, and “Yes or Yes. She secured a position as an in-house choreographer for JYP, specifically Twice at such a young age, and national and international supporters alike were impressed were her skills. What many people didn’t know was that she was invited to choreograph “Red Flavor” by Red Velvet and initially agreed, and choreographed the routine, but SM ended up not using her choreography. The poor girl was really starting to think they had some hidden agenda against her.
Y/n’s popularity was on a gradual upward incline and suddenly boomed when “Fancy” was released, seeing as the song was a turning point for the group. It was also the first time she took on a director position instead of just a choreographer. Y/n was offered the role of creative director on top of main choreographer. Things only continued to get better for her career after she produced the moves and creative brief for “breakthrough”, which caused people to realize the girl was capable of doing more than just cute dances. As soon as “Feel Special” was released, y/n was getting calls left and right, especially from SM.
They offered her the main choreographer position for Red Velvet’s next comeback, “Psycho”. She was skeptical at first due to their lackadaisical behavior when working with her but ultimately agreed since she had nothing else at the time. Y/n submitted her dance, expecting to not hear back after that and be left to assume they went with another choreographer. So when she got a phone call a couple of days later asking her if she’d be able to begin teaching the choreography the following day, the girl just about died on the spot. “Psycho” was released and everyone was OBSESSED with the choreography.
This was about the time when Bada and Y/n first met. At the end of 2019, SM was having its annual end-of-the-year celebration, inviting all of its artists and staff, including any choreographer who worked in-house or was brought in specifically at any point. Y/n originally intended on not going but ultimately decided she would after realizing it could be a good networking opportunity. 
Y/n wasn’t cocky by any means, but she was confident. The girl was bubbly and charming, so naturally she attracted people, including Bada Lee. the tall dancer approached the younger girl and professionally introduced herself. 
“You’re Y/n L/n, correct?” to which the younger smiled even wider and nodded enthusiastically. Bada couldn’t help but giggle at the girl’s bright energy, liking how it stuck out against the blandness that typically came with business parties. 
“I really love your work. It’s so refreshing, and even your more mature choreographies have this energizing quality to them…” the tall dancer complimented and y/n could feel her face heat up, eyes widening, and mouth falling open. She stammered for a moment, overjoyed with the compliment.
“Thank you so much- I- you don’t understand how much that means to me. Truly, thank you.” her smile was so huge that Bada thought if it got any bigger the poor girl’s face would split open, but the older of the two was simply endeared. They stuck by each other’s sides practically the whole night after that… and they haven’t parted since.
“My sweet angel dearest… can you please sit down?” the Bebe leader jokingly requested as she and her teammates observed their second eldest member bouncing around the room at lightning speed. They all stifled giggles and wore smiles of adoration as they continued to watch Y/n smile and explore their new team space. The girls loved how energetic and bubbly she was, thinking of it as a strength since the rest of them were more chill and reserved. Having y/n around kept the team’s morale high, since she’s always the one to check up on everyone, always first to cheer someone up, and always making sure everyone is taken care of before and after they start practice.
“Unnie- you know I can’t just sit and do nothing while we wait. This is all too exciting!!” which caused Bada to just smile and shake her head. The leader loved all of her crew members but had a specific soft spot for Y/n seeing as she’d known her the longest out of all of the others (and the girl may or may not make her heart flutter).
The monitor lit up and an announcement popped up on the screen. The girls all made a noise of shock, and Y/n quickly ran to seat herself in the empty space left between Bada and Tatter
“Our baby” the blonde patted the older girl’s head endearingly, causing her to giggle
“Noooo, you’re MY baby, hmph” she retorted, wrapping her arms around the other and squeezing her gently while fake pouting. The screen told them they were now allowed to head down to the fight zone and Y/n sprung back up with a small noise of excitement. She and Bada were the first two to lead the group down, the older one smiling softly at her slightly younger teammate who looked around with wide sparkly eyes. Once they were in the center of the dance floor a video began playing.
“Their team was just formed within the last year…they can’t have very good chemistry”
“People only know Bada and Y/n”
“Bada is more popular than her talents”
“Y/n won’t be able to keep up… she’s a good choreographer but she’s too soft for a competition like this” Y/n laughed loudly at this one, not being able to take anyone seriously, especially Mina Myoung who found an issue with everyone. Bada on the other hand was far from amused. The leader glared at the screen until the video ended, then scoffed as she began heading over to their team’s designated seats.
“Unnie, don’t get so worked up- they’re obviously just trying to get a reaction and it’s clearly working, so don’t let them see it…” the second oldest gently comforted the leader with a hand on her shoulder. Y/n had taken her seat right next to Bada, which had become the usual for them. No matter where they went, whether it was just the two of them, all of team Bebe, or even them and some other people; Y/n always found her place next to Bada. Y/n and Bada had become practically inseparable since that night they met.
Bada grabbed the hand that was on her shoulder and gently began stroking the back of it with her thumb, and Y/n’s immediate response was to plop her head down as a replacement. The leader couldn’t help the chuckle that left her at the girl’s reaction, she could practically see her tail wagging if she had one. The other Bebe members loved to call Y/n “baby-unnie” or just “baby” because of how soft and cute she was, but they often called her “puppy” as well due to her energetic and bright personality. It was typically the younger members who called her this, but occasionally Bada would take part in the teasing, loving how flushed the girl’s face got when she specifically called her by those names.
The other crews arrived and of course, Bebe held up their chill, cool-girl image. Even y/n looked intimidating with how pretty she was and how relaxed her smile had become. After all the other videos were played, the teams changed into more relaxed clothing, preparing for the no-respect battles. When they returned the leaders of each crew handed out the ‘no-respect’ stickers to each dancer. While most of Bebe didn’t have any Bada and Y/n were the only two who did, with the leader having two and the second oldest having five.
“I still can’t believe you got that many votes…” Kyma mumbled in astonishment as she watched Lusher and Tatter place the stickers all over their member. Y/n just laughed and shrugged.
“They don’t think I can battle, that’s why- but it’s okay cuz now I get to show everyone how wrong they were…” she calmly and cooly explained, patting Kyma on the head as the other two members finished with the stickers. The battles began and the first dancer called was Redy from 1 Million.
Redy chose Bada as her no-respect dancer due to some personal issue that occurred between the two at some point. The younger dancer did put up a pretty good fight, but Bada was practically untouchable. Y/n was jumping up and down and screaming as loud as possible at her leader, the smile on her face almost painful at this point. 
When Bada finished she cooly headed back over to her team and Y/n pounced on her, wrapping her arms around the older girl's neck. The leader laughed and loosely wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist, the two staying like that for a few moments until the applause died down. Once it was time to announce the results, Bada headed back to the center while her crew waited patiently behind her. When the judges announced her as the winner of the battle, Y/n was jumping seven feet in the air, rushing to cling to Bada again.
A few more battles went by before Y/n was called for her first one, the challenger being Gooseul from Deep n Dap. The Bebe dancer was a bit shocked, not knowing much of her or the crew besides Mina Myoung. The battle started with the pink-haired dancer- she wasn’t bad, but still very obviously an amateur. Her 40 seconds went back and it was Y/n’s turn. “One Dance” by Drake started playing and the girl immediately got into the vibe. She sensually grooved to the rhythm and naturally hit every beat, creating a dynamic performance. Her facials were completely different than usual- eyes taking on the look of a siren instead of the angel Y/n usually appeared to be. 
“Oh my god- her face totally changed…”
“I knew I was gonna regret picking her…”
“Bebe is really just a team full of dancers that know how to attract women-”
Bada smirked picking up all the little comments she was hearing from around the arena, but ultimately focusing on her girl tearing up the stage in front of her. The battle ended and as soon as she was done dancing, Y/n blinked and was back to her sweet self. Sparkly eyes and a bright smile taking over, the second-oldest Bebe member turned to her members who all embraced her in a giant hug, squeezing her and squishing her face, cooing and awing at her.
“Unnie- how dare you dance like that! You’re just a baby!” Minah joked while holding Y/n’s face in her hands, causing the rest of the team to laugh and tease her. The winner was announced, and when the judges all held up team Bebe’s blue card, the members stormed the stage and cheered on their member once again. When Y/n had to go over to Deep and Dap and place the loser plaque on their board, she made sure to thank Gooseul and shake her hand. She returned to her team and they all made sure to pat her on the head or shoulder, showing their final bits of appreciation for their baby-unnie.
“Isn’t Y/n one of the oldest?” JJ turned to Mina after watching Bebe act affectionately toward her.
“Yeah- it goes Bada then her then the others… why?” the DnD leader questioned.
“She just seems so young… and they all treat her like their baby- I would’ve guessed she was the maknae” the expressive girl seriously remarked in an entertaining matter, genuinely surprised at how old the other dancer actually was.
When Bada and Redlic faced against each other, Y/n was interested to see how it would turn out seeing as Redlic didn’t really seem to be on her game today. The second oldest Bebe member was used to the blonde being a pretty good dancer and decent at improv, so her performances today were really disappointing and confusing. Y/n lost interest after Redlic’s second spin around, but then got all up in Bada’s face putting her hands all over the tall dancer, getting more of a reaction out of her team member than her.
“What was that…” Y/n and Lusher were side-eyeing each other, not liking the interaction at all. the younger of the two being the only one to know about the leader’s and second oldest’s true feelings for each other, was a huge supporter of them- even though everyone else thought she was delusional.
“Unnie how are you not losing your shit right now…” Lusher mumbled, eyes trained on the blonde dancer still all up on Bada. when she didn’t get any response, the younger member looked over and was immediately shocked by the expression Y/n had. An icy glare and condescending smirk took over her features, hinting at the slightest bit of disgust. When Redlic’s turn was over Bada’s music started playing and her body immediately reacted to the beat. She walked around a bit to really get into it, turning to meet her teammates’ gazes briefly. She makes eye contact with Y/n, who has a very serious (and lowkey scary) expression
“Eat her up… or I’ll kill you” The other members struggled not to react to the out-of-character comment and keep up their hype, but Bada was completely unphased. While others only saw the refreshing side of Y/n, Bada got to experience just how serious and sometimes vicious the girl can get (especially when threatened). So instead of having an internal panic like the others, she just smirked slightly and continued to get in the groove.
Bada began dancing hitting every mark and beat, facials on point, and truly getting into the rhythm of the song. It was like the music was inside her with how easily she reacted. Her team’s screams and cheers carried her through the rest of the performance and the second her music ended she circled back around to her team, stopping at Y/n who stood with a satisfied smile. They all stood together as they awaited the results, the leader standing tall and relaxed with her arm draped over the second-oldest member’s shoulders. Y/n stood intimidatingly with her arms crossed, glaring at the other team until Bebe was once again announced as the winner. Her eyes quickly lit up and her smile returned, turning in Bada’s hold to wrap her arms around the older girl’s waist.
“I wasn’t worried at all, but I really hated watching her dance…” she mumbled into the leader’s chest, who just laughed loudly and patted her head before squeezing her tightly. Bada placed the loser plaque onto Mannequeen’s board and calmly strutted back over to her team. She took her place next to Y/n who leaned into her side with a pout, causing the older to roll her eyes and chuckle before wrapping her arm around the younger girl again.
“You’re never this pouty- what’s up?” the leader whispered gently, playing with the ends of the other girl’s hair
“I just don’t like watching people dance with you like that… it’s annoying” Y/n mumbled, still pouting with arms slightly crossed. Bada tried to stifle her laugh and avoid teasing her teammate, but she honestly couldn’t pass up the opportunity. 
“Ayyyye… are you jealous?” the leader tried to tease and get a reaction out of her, hoping to see the younger dancer blush
“Yes! I didn’t like that…” Y/n admitted, not meeting the older girl’s eyes which were now boring into the side of her head. Bada tilted her head, a bit shocked at the statement and how open the younger was being. She was used to Y/n’s honesty, relying on it often, but the girl was never really open about her own feelings. She looked after the team with a gentle, motherly aura, allowing the girls to tease her and baby her in order to feel more relaxed. Y/n never seemed tired or upset when practices were harder than usual, so in all honesty, it was rare to see the girl in a mood like this. Bada knew the pout was mostly for show, but she could tell how serious Y/n was about being jealous. 
“Don’t worry, you’re my only baby…” She squeezed her shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head before looking back toward the next set of dancers who were preparing to battle. Y/n’s eyes went slightly wide as she glanced over to the leader and her pout was broken after seeing the light blush on Bada’s face. She huffed out a soft laugh and snuggled back into the leader’s side, the rest of her team sitting behind them smiling with love and adoration at the two.
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permanent taglist: @uwulyn @luvjanexx @randomhoex @1luvkarina
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idkfitememate · 4 months
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I must say that the best way I can describe tiger creator it would be just this image
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Plus I wanna know how tighnari would react to the large killer cat acting like a kitten tehe~
“So you’re telling me… you were working one day… turned around… and just. Found a completely tame Risboland Tiger behind you. And your first thought, was not to run oh no of course not, but to PUSH IT DOWN AND SLEEP WITH IT????”
Kaveh winced at Tighnari’s tone.
“In my defense… I was tired.”
“YOU WERE TIRED?!?!” Tighnari screeched.
He had seen a lot in his day. He had seen so many stupid people in his time as a ranger. Eating mushrooms they couldn’t and touching flowers they shouldn’t. But to be hearing this out of someone who he considered a pretty decent person? Maybe even a friend (if he strained the term)?
Was absolutely ridiculous!
His gaze was then sent to the Tiger in question who was… reading a book? It’s claw tracing gently down the page as if not to ruin it??
His confused gaze must’ve been noticed by Kaveh because the man then looked in that same direction.
“Oh yeah… they like reading. They’ve even begun to write!”
THEY CAN READ???? THEY CAN WRITE??????? A RISHBOLAND TIGER??????????
Tighnari looked incredulously at his friend(?), jaw hanging open. His entire body was shaking in disbelief at the wild peice of information the blonde in front of him had dropped. This animal that has shown nothing but hostility to humans and hybrids alike… WAS READING AND WRITING???
“Oh and if you think thats neat they can even cook and clean!”
Kaveh was going to be the death of Tighnari.
“They even cooked a fourteen course dinner with one dish and one dessert from even nation because I had finally gotten a commission! Isn’t that just so nice of them?”
Yep. Tighnari had to be dead.
I hope I did the ask Justice and also the image is hilarious. Tighnari’s pulling out his hair as you and Kaveh cuddle it up! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ᰔ
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irisintheafterglow · 9 months
Text
End Game (volleyball captain!gojo x you)
summary: the captain of the boys' volleyball team has only one victory on his mind, and it isn't Nationals.
word count: 1.4k
cw/tags: mild language, jjk volleyball au, mostly just crack
note: hiiii so i think this will be the first of a series of drabbles about volleyball captain satoru because he's just mmmm. i don't really wanna call it a chaptered series just yet because i'm still working on plot or whatever, so i think for now it'll just be drabbles within the volleyball au itself. hope you like it!
likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated <3
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He was infuriating, to say the least. 
The way he walked around with his long, lanky limbs, flashing a grin that could only be found on a pompous asshole; the way he winked a mesmerizing blue eye at any girls passing by, mouthing call me over his shoulder; the way he knew he was hot and that’s how he could get away with being such a prick; and you had to deal with all of it, five days a week, over six months for the past three years. 
“Do they ever end up calling you?” You ask him one day as you walk together to the gym. His bright white hair glints in the afternoon sun as he strolls beside you, sipping a fruity soda he’d nabbed before he found you. Ever since you were first-years, at the end of the school day, he always ended up coming to your last class to bother you, much to the entertainment of your classmates. 
“Your boyfriend’s here,” they teased, sticking out their tongues as his face appeared in the doorway. They swooned when he gave them a polite nod, whispering among themselves while you slung your bag over your shoulder. “Have fun, you two,” they sang, exclaiming how beautiful your children would be when you were out of earshot. It made you cringe, your mouth curling in disgust. Satoru was your friend, yes, but imagining a relationship with him was a line you never dared to cross. 
It became routine after you became a manager for the boys' volleyball team during your second year, Satoru coming to annoy you as you walked to the gym to open it for practice. Sometimes, before he met you at your classroom, he’d hurry to the vending machines and grab some sugary drinks, which you reluctantly accepted as you told him it wasn’t healthy for him to consume so much sugar before practice. You weren’t sure how he always managed to figure out where your last class was; you had a theory that Shoko was secretly supplying him with your schedule. With both of you in your third year, you came to expect the melodic call of your name down the hallway when the bell rang. 
“Who?”
“Those girls that you wink at and tell them to call you. Do they actually contact you?” He glances down at you with a look you can’t read and shrugs indifferently. 
“Nah. It’s more fun to flirt,” he drawls, tilting his head to the side with a lopsided grin and taking another sip of his soda. 
You laugh in disbelief. In all the years that you’d known Satoru, you knew that he’d never had a girlfriend. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get one; he had the whole school practically crawling over each other just to get his attention, guys and girls alike. You figured he liked the attention, and came to be one of the only people who could tolerate his constant shenanigans. “You’re a menace.” 
“You know you love it,” he quips nonchalantly. He watches you climb the steps to the gym with a satisfied look on his face. 
“I really don’t,” you smile over your shoulder as you flick through the keys for the gym door. “Go change, I need your help re-tying the net before the rest of the team gets here.” You finally get the door open, but Satoru doesn’t move from behind you. He stands there at the bottom of the steps, looking at you expectantly. You groan. He really was infuriating. “No.” 
He pouts, sharp eyebrows furrowing and bottom lip jutting out. “Oh, c’mon–”
You laugh him off, shaking your head. Three years, you’ve known him, and three years, he’s acted like he was still five. “I’ve told you this for weeks; I’m not doing it.”
“I’m just gonna keep asking then.” Your eyes find his, and you school your face to look as lifeless and irritated as possible. It doesn’t faze him. “Just once? Please?” You watch him unwaveringly as he turns on all his charm, flashing you another cocky smile. He sticks his hands into the pockets of his uniform, slowly walking up the steps to close the distance between you two. “I’ll stop asking if you do it.” His voice is enticing and manipulative, and you’d long since stopped wondering how he manages to get anything he wants. 
You exhale. There was no winning with him. “Fine.” 
Lightning-blue eyes light up like Christmas lights at your response. “Fine?”
“Yes, fine. I’ll make you a bet.” It was his turn to groan, and he threw his head back like a toddler during a tantrum, angrily following you into the gym. He runs a large hand over his face, careful not to smudge his sunglasses. “I will refer to you as captain if you make it to Nationals.” You let the words hang in the air, challenging him. It was a good bet, but it had a very likely chance of you winning. The school hadn’t gone to Nationals in decades despite being a former volleyball powerhouse. The trophy cases lining the halls and extensive frames of past teams were enough to explain the school’s long-gone glory. You knew there was potential this year, especially with how well the team worked together, but Satoru’s lax attitude as captain tended to negate any productivity during practices. 
He was silent for a moment, a determined look washing over his features as his eyes narrowed onto yours and appeared more serious than you’d seen in a while. “Easy. I’ll lead this team on a win-streak all the way to the top.” He’s close on your heels as you approach the net, inspecting the loosening cables. 
“Mhmm, I bet you will.” Reaching up, your fingers fiddle with the fraying ends but their height makes it difficult for you to create a strong knot. You huff, shaking out your arms in an attempt to try again. To your annoyance, Satoru’s arms easily extend over yours and tie the knot with nimble fingers. You silently curse him and his setter hands, unconsciously taking note of how close his body is to yours. He looks down at you, and you stare back, unfazed. He really was still trying to win a response out of you. 
“I’m the strongest, after all.” 
You nod patronizingly, ducking past him to grab the ball cart from the supply closet. “Mhmm, I know you are.” 
An indignant stamp of Satoru’s foot makes a chuckle slip past your lips. “Stop ignoring me!” 
“Get changed, Satoru.” Your hands wrap around the cool metal of the ball cart as you roll it to the side of the net. 
“You just want to see me with my shirt off,” he murmurs from behind you, and without a second thought, you lob a ball at his face. He yelps in surprise, forearm curling upward to protect his sunglasses before you fire a second ball, striking him squarely in the chest. He doubles over, moaning but still trying to flirt through the pain. 
“What’d he do this time?” Suguru’s voice calls from the doorway of the gym as he takes in the melodrama of his captain amusedly. He was Satoru’s best friend and his #1 partner in striking; when the team held practice matches, you couldn’t help but marvel at how well they understood each other during games. Satoru’s precision in setting and Suguru’s strength in striking formed a solid base for the rest of the team to support. Their sheer power and aptitude made them a dangerous duo during tournaments, if Satoru’s stupidity didn’t sabotage them in the process. 
“Exist,” you reply, scooping up the balls from where they’d bounced after successfully wounding Satoru. 
Suguru clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Gotta stop doing that, captain.” 
Satoru ignores the first part of Suguru’s suggestion, instead whirling on you boastfully. “See! Even Suguru calls me captain!” A long, elegant finger points at his best friend, who shakes his head tiredly. “Our esteemed manager won’t call me captain unless we make it to Nationals,” he reports, and you cross your arms over your chest at his accusatory tone. 
“That’s fair,” Suguru says, unconcerned, stretching a muscular arm over his head. Dark eyes scan over Satoru, still dressed in his school uniform. “Shouldn’t you be changed?” he asks, casually switching arms. You stifle a laugh with a hand over your mouth at Suguru effectively dismissing the captain. 
Satoru’s mouth drops in fake-astonishment. “Neither of you love me.” 
“You’re correct.”
“It took you this long to figure it out?”
“Just you wait,” Satoru declares as he finally makes his way to the door. Fierce blue eyes zero in on yours, and a shiver runs through your body. “I’m gonna win.” 
And somehow, you don’t think he’s only talking about Nationals.
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illmother · 1 month
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ೀ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ⎯ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝖕𝐚𝐫𝐚deisos 𝓼𝗰𝘂𝗺.
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A/N: rewatched the rain burst event AGAIN and fell in love with rahu all over again, i now declare myself vice president of rahu nation. (if you will 🙏) i’ve been reading “On A leash” again and got inspired, so soldier x doctor it is
⏜ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ݁ Rahu x Paradeisos!Doctor!Reader
cw: a bit suggestive
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Resilience, strength, obedience. Those words could very well describe Rahu as a whole, a headstrong, dependable soldier who wouldn’t hesitate to kill in order to pave the way to victory. Being part of the FAC elite division, she has faced many dangers alike, big and small. But regardless of this fact, it’s not uncommon for her to get injured despite also being a sinner with immense power, which brings Rahu to this predicament quite often.
The doors of the infirmary opens, and in walks the tall sinner. Immediately upon arrival, Rahu was hit with a nauseating scent, which in turn made her brows furrow. “That habit will kill you one day.” She sneered through her mask, walking up the source of that wretched smell that kept assaulting her senses, smoke and cheap cologne. Rahu’s expression remained stoic and stern, as she came up to the root of her irritation, and more notably—desires. Yet, only a small laugh could be heard, a sound so empty, so hallow, it made Rahu tense. Damn, that women, that damned doctor that claims she’s only here to treat patients, but rahu knew better than to trust paradeisos scum. Her eyes narrowed at the figure in front of her, draped in a white coat, head tilted away from her, she seemed to be paying to mind to the sinner.
“You say that yet, you come back to me all tattered up weekly.” You countered with a smile, leaning against the crisp, white wall of the infirmary, with a cigarette in hand. Finally, for the first time since Rahu’s arrival, you turned to face her, before your eyes trailed down to the state she was in. You noticed a rather large wound right on her abdomen—not deep, but enough for it to cause pain and discomfort, alongside other smaller injuries, and a visible frown formed on your delicate features. But for some strange reason, some stupid reason, seeing that change on your usually serious face was…weirdly intoxicating to Rahu. But just as fast as it came, it was gone, she was intrigued, she needed to see it again, see that look on your face, see what other expressions that stern face can morph into. “Really, who’s actually going to die first?” You asked with mild irritation and a hint of—concern? in your tone, snapping Rahu out of whatever trance she was in. You heaved a sigh of frustration before putting the cigarette out and throwing the bud in the ashtray.
“Come, let’s get you fixed up.” You gestured for her to come sit on a hospital bed with a nod of your head, and she complied, not that she had a choice if she wanted back on the frontlines as soon as humanly possible. You stared Rahu down, hands in your coat pockets, and she instinctively gripped the sheets, your stare was intense, and she needed stability. There was silence between the two of you, and you raised your eyebrow. “Undress.” You ordered sternly, to which her expression faltered, she let out a small sound of surprise. “What?” Rahu questioned, her hands gripping the sheets tighter, as her brows furrowed. You only looked at her with that same deadpan expression on your face, it only made her more irritated.
“Do you want to get treated, or no? your pick.” You gave her an ultimatum, either get treated or die in battle, her choice. Though, in all honesty, you were going to treat her either way, and you were well aware how suggestive you sounded when you told her to undress, but you couldn’t help but find every reaction of hers…quite endearing. A smug smirk was plastered on your face, as she begrudgingly started rid herself of her dark coat, leaving her in her white now blood soaked button down—if you were feeling optimistic, you’d think the blood wasn’t hers, but in this case you knew it was. Once again, there was silence, a deafening silence, one you would deem peaceful if it wasn’t for the sinner glaring holes through your skull. You sighed, before getting on your knees, kneeling down. Rahu watched your every move, from the way you gently lifted up her shirt to inspect her wounds, to the way you eyebrows furrowed when you were deep in thought. She seemed all too focused on your expression, your face, your lips—
Rahu instinctively shoved you away, when she felt you unbuttoning her shirt, her hand situated in your hair. You stare up at her, her face was covered by her oni mask, yet the tips of her ears were red, how…cute. Coming from someone like her. “What—what the hell are you doing?” Rahu stammered out, her grip firm on your hair, yet you didn’t move, didn’t even flinch. “How else am i going to treat you?” You countered, but still let go of her bloodied shirt, crossing your arms in mock irritation. “You should have just asked, i’ll do it myself.” She says simply with mild annoyance, before her large, calloused hands let go of your hair, and moved up to unbutton her shirt. “Rather skittish today, aren’t we?” You teased, before getting to work, cleaning and fixing her wounds up, before she inevitably gets injured again or exerts herself too much, so much so her wounds reopened. It happened more than once, more times than you can count, or even remember.
As you treated her wounds, occasionally hearing pained groans above you, it amused you to no end if you were, truly, being honest. Seeing her pale hands, covered in countless scars that had built up over the years grip the sheets until her knuckles turned white, it was beyond amusing to you, but even despite focusing on treating her, you could practically feel her eyes on you, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you shiver.
“Alright, you’re all fixed up.” You stated calmly, before standing up and straightening yourself out. “As always, i insist you stay here and recover. Going back to the frontlines in this condition would—” You expected her to just fix her appearance up, and walk out without another word, but to your surprise she only responded “I’ll stay.” Rahu stated firmly, before crossing her arms, you almost let out an laugh at how unexpected this behavior was, especially coming from her. “Have you gotten yourself so beat up, you’re finally listening to me?” You teased, before eyeing the bloodied shirt she had on. “It’ll do me some good if you get rid of that, it’s gonna reek up my infirmary. I’m sure the FAC will provide you with another in due time.” You hummed, gesturing to her shirt, to which she reluctantly complied and took it off. What a strange change of pace, not that you were complaining, she was much more tolerable, but somewhere, deep down, you knew why she was so hostile towards you. You were from Paradeisos, it was natural for her to be on guard, you really couldn’t hold it against her.
“You’re making that expression again.” Rahu commented, which makes your gaze shift from her discarded shirt to her face, and your eyes shine with a hint of attraction at seeing her exposed, toned stomach, your eyes trailed higher until they settled on her chest, and collarbone—you quickly snapped out of the daze you were in, and stared her in the eyes. “Do you enjoy looking at my face that much, you even notice the smallest of changes?” You teased with a grin, to which you noticed her eyebrow twitched, just the tiniest bit.
“You’re free to stare as much as you want.”
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maopll · 1 year
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Hiya! Hope I'm not bothering you! I'd like to go by 🪼 anon please.
Could I... request headcanons of Diluc, Zhongli, Thoma, Childe, Itto and Kaveh with a quiet s/o telling them, in a loving tone, how much she loves them for the first time?
For eternities I shall love you
| genshin impact !
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⌗:, a/n: class is going on and I'm in no mood to deal with that gradient bs. have this I wrote in whatever time I had. anyways I love puppy crushes or love at first sight <3 kavehs a bit long...I've got things to say...
⌗:, warning: none
⌗:, pairings: diluc, zhongli, thoma, childe, itto & kaveh w/ gn!reader (separately)
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✧ ˚  ·    . ✧ ˚  ·    . ✧ ˚  ·    . ✧ ˚  ·   
,,you and this man had been seeing eachother for a long time and surely enough you developed feelings for him. gathering courage enough for a person as quite as yourself you finally told him how much you love him...
DILUC
He felt as if everything around you two stopped. no longer were the winds blowing, neither were the serene lulls of the crickets chirping could he be heard. you poured your heartfelt affection into what you said. it was true. you loved him a lot and want to stay with him for the rest of your life. you were scared that he might reject you but the feelings these days were too much to bear. so you told him. he was having such rapid heartbeats that he thought he would just have an heartattack. his face turned the colour of his hair and you thought he caught a fever or something. he cleared his throat and covered his mouth as he spoke the same to you in a gentle tone, very rarely heard of by others. but it was a familiar tone to you, he had been more gentle, more loving around you than anyone else. he found solace with your company. he felt like he could breath again, shoveling the idea of eliminating the abyss and fatui. all are gone. his mind would as clear as daylight whenever with you. So...how can he let this opportunity slip by? so he accepted your proposal and sealed it with a kiss befitting a gentleman such as himself.
ZHONGLI
He was a god of contracts with a heart skin to stone cold feelings. Love, warmth, joy, were all devoid. only the thrill of war and emotions alike were felt by him. but he has found a piece of emotions which defines his human self best. adoration for you. as he found himself under the moonlit night near the waterbody of nantianmen. He listened intently, the way you spoke those words and he even observed how your lips slowly curled and there were blooms in your cheeks. you spoke in the the most loving tone how much you loved him. serenity of the surroundings were perfectly synced with your sudden proposal. perhaps you thought of it beforehand? nevertheless how can he reject such a heartfelt affection to Zhongli and a unadulterated devotion to Morax? he accepted your affection for him and he will accept those throughout eternities.
THOMA
Fell in love with you at first sight when you were in dire need of help with taking some stuff to your house. you looked so lovely in that yukata you were wearing. he has served the kamisatos for many years and he vowed to always show his unshakable service to them. though he would wish that he himself had s lover of his own, he would soon push those thoughts away as he would be reminded of the work that needed to be taken care of the next day. but did he hear you right? did you just confess to him or is it another one of those dreams where you and him were living happily? nope it's definitely reality where you had this sickeningly sweet tone telling him how much you love him. he smiled so brightly and hugged you as close as he could. he loved you so much and he had been waiting for this moment ever since he was a teenager having wild dreams. so dreams do become reality huh?
CHILDE
He was a fighter who swore his loyalty to the Tsaritsa and his nation. he had only one family to love and thought that there would be no one who would be able to win his affection. he is a harbinger who lives off of fighting. so how did he find such an angel as sweet as yourself telling him in the most pure voice how much you love him? he is a harbinger and you must be in the right mind to actually fall for him. at first he thought it was a farce and you were just trying to entertain him but a part of him also told him to accept it. there's no way you would lie after you found your true feelings for him. you seemed determined to have him fall in love with you and date you. he may seem crazy because be accepted your request only because he wants you for himself only but he also cares for you deeply. he squeeled like a two year old and had this huge shit earing grin on his face as he happily told you "I love you too!"
ITTO
Nobody liked him. only grandma oni and his gang members could tolerate his behaviour of a three year old. even he realises how much of an annoyance he could be to other people but you, you were different. you loved his outgoing personality. he was a literal ball of sunshine. so you told him in the most normal yet sugary tone how much you loved him. it was your first time confessing and his first time hearing a confession. he felt overwhelmed with emotions as he finally found someone who loves him for who he is. but he needs to show how strong he is to you. he can't have himself crying but...he was litreally crying tears of joy. he had loved you so much and hearing that you love him equally sounds surreal. he only had daydreams of you telling him that you love him but it's true! you do actually love him! he thinks he will melt away because of how warm he feels after your proposal. he likes you so so much that he is ready to fight the world.
KAVEH
He knows of his ups and downs. even if he is a genius and liked by some women throughout sumeru, but some still back away thinking that he is a broke yet genius architect. he always feels envious of his roommate, who is good from all sides. but when you two started interacting more because of both your research works, he wanted to have you all to himself. he didn't want you talking with alhaitham and then contemplating the worth both your and kaveh's friendship, but you never looked at alhaitham differently. Instead, you always had feelings for kaveh. you loved him for his kindness towards the people of sumeru and his passion towards his works. and now here you were. near Chatrakam cave, telling him in a saccharine voice how much you love him. he didn't hesitate. all he needed to confirm his feelings for you were just simple "I love you"s, and he is now tackling to the ground, saying that he has been waiting for so long. he looked like a high schooler but with the body of an adult with the way he was acting, and you just adored it when he does this. he peppered your faces with kisses, and he had this noticeable huge blush on his cheeks evident of the way he was feeling right now. he loves you to the moon and back <3
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sunboki · 1 month
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— ENDLESS WINTER. TEASER a Christopher Bahng fiction
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Christopher Bahng x fem. reader
TROPE. Beast! au, Mage! au, enemies to lovers (she wants to kill him), marriage au, angst
WARNINGS. violence, kidnapping, mention of a past war, descriptions of murder, reader is injured, hyunjin is a bit of a pain, hinted minsung (hehe), blood, kissing (dubcon), cursing
WORD COUNT. estimated around 12k
AUG'S NOTES. me and my inner thoughts… as a fic 😭 i cannot believe this is my longest writing yet!!! hopefully you enjoy!
SYNOPSIS. As heiress of the Magus, otherwise, Mage Clan, you find your position ripped from your fingertips when the Beast Clan conducts a raid. Left the only survivor, you make it your priory to stay alive in a ravaged Kingdom. That is, before you’re captured.
alternatively :
Starvation becomes the least of your problems when you meet King Bahng.
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Hiding in the kitchen’s cupboard was definitely not your intention.
Neither was the Kingdom getting raided by the Beast Clan or being the (presumably) lone survivor in the castle, but fate would have its way, whether you liked it or not — this one just a bit more severe than usual.
Your mother once told you of the Beast Clan, of their ferocity and inability to handle things diplomatically. In her opinion, Beast were barely able to be considered Human.
Well, these words came after the Mage-Beast War; a grueling, disgustingly brutal dispute that caused what was referred to as the “Endless Winter”, a curse put upon the nation by a Magus overseer bidding every day of every year with, well, “endless winter”.
She told you how the ground used to be a wondrous green. Soft beneath your fingertips like feathers. Now, blankets of snow stretched as far as the eye could see, killing off any remaining expanse of foliage.
Although years had passed since then, your Kingdom was still recovering, still navigating importing routes in order to supply necessary goods.
Yet, everything was rapidly adapting, whether that was the snow-shoe rabbits roaming your vast tundra or the unexpected growth of fur on the bottom of the horse’s hooves.
Growing, learning.
Magus, though a lineage of magic practitioners, had begun to dull over the centuries. There was no need to learn with peace eminent, and the more aged those wielding supernatural abilities became, the less said abilities progressed into your generations.
However, Magus is the hearth of your Kingdom, and for as long as you live, the title shall reign supreme.
A title that, used by enemies and allies alike, had modernized from its ancient form Magus, to Mage.
Dinner held in the customary hall began that night, seat upon seat homing each member of the family adorned in their extravagant clothing.
Your father occupied the upmost chair, his plate stacked full of greasy lamb and pork bones. You, on the other hand, had had your fill chatting the cook’s ear off, slipping sweet potato wedges here and there as you talked.
Ms. Maewether was her name, a sad soul who carried her love in her cherished dishes. A love reserved for her late husband, a Beast himself, who unfortunately passed in The War.
Back then you asked her questions to the moon, about what they looked like specifically — if they really had eight inch claws like all the other children gossiped, if they could feel.
The last one was important, because everything Ms. Maewether told you you believed without a doubt, and the number one thing she pressed was that Beasts can feel, so very deeply. Just like humans.
The War changed that, and tension rose tenfold, especially as each Kingdom recovered from their countless casualties.
Luckily, your life had been peaceful, having been born young enough you could hardly remember.
Had been peaceful.
A scream from outside redirects the table’s conversation, relatives and siblings alike turning their head to gaze out the window.
Your blood runs cold.
Beasts, left and right, are slaughtering. Their clothing stained in blood that certainly isn’t their own, blades in clutch.
Immediately, panic ensues. People are trampling over each other to get out, disregarding every instinct but to stay alive. It’s chaos.
Dodging flailing bodies, you anchor yourself in a secluded cupboard below the countertops, shrinking as close to the wall as possible.
A few moments after everyone evacuates the Dining Hall do you hear cries. Yelling, gargled sounds. You cringe back imagining, stifling your breathing as much as possible.
Suddenly, a thought comes to mind, a thought that might just be responsible for saving your life.
Smell.
Ms. Maewether warned you a Beast’s smell is like no other, like a dogs. Twenty times as heightened as a persons.
So slowly, silently, you fish your hand into the small bit of darkness in front of you, locating a small bottle of cooking grease you wince upon finding — forcing the awful smelling concoction over your body, masking your scent.
Right after sitting down the container does the door creak open, heavy footsteps belonging to none other than a Beast. You can hear it in their sniffing, the clicking of their claws. Chills scatter your arms.
Another enters as the second door creaks, muttering something incomprehensible to its companion. At this point you’re pressed to the other side of the cupboard, both hands covering your mouth.
Your heart thunders in your chest, beating unbearably loud the longer you huddle.
Walking past where you lie, a Beast stops, body ducking down close enough you can hear its labored panting. You wait, waiting for the door to be flung open and for your death to await.
It doesn’t. And you thank whomever above for the echo of its presence fading away into the distance, barely relaxing against the highly uncomfortable hiding spot.
Instead, a blood curdling screech rips through the atmosphere, comparably close to where you hide. Abruptly, it stops, the thump of a body against the floor making you staunch the nausea building like bile in your throat.
It takes three days for you to finally peer out of the cupboard, the entirety of the Kingdom completely void of a soul.
Taking your first few steps around do you notice a woman, obviously slain by the puddle of blood surrounding her and the putrid stench. Her mouth hangs open—horror-stricken, frozen in place. You vomit in the sink.
For about a week do you roam the murder-house of a castle, finding purchase in a non-blood-bathed room and the many, thought to be endless amount of food.
You won’t leave, simple.
As long as the Beast Clan believes they’ve killed everyone, you’re safe.
That reminder was assuring, until your food supply dropped exponentially and a new problem situated itself on your platter.
Worst case scenario you die of starvation, the likelihood high if you stay here. Solution? Hunting.
Granted, you’re not the most skillful hunter, but you’re also not horrendous with a bow. Except, it’s not your aiming abilities you stress, it’s the chance someone sees you, the enemy sees you.
Four weeks in and you’re left with no other choice than to bundle yourself in layers upon layers of clothing and heed the feeble weaponry available.
Blizzard frost permeates your vision, wobbling steps making your hunger evident the more you roam. A horse would’ve been effortlessly useful, but selling yourself into that fantasy had been futile upon realizing they either took or killed all escapades.
A hare catches your eye, pale fur barely divisible from the terrain below. Carefully, you crouch down, elbow stretching the arrow back as far as possible whilst maintaining a solid grip. Steady. Steady.
Shoot!
The arrow flies, puncturing the animal in its chest enough to where it thankfully doesn’t suffer, flopping over rather pathetically instead.
However, your success is short-lived.
Stalking forward to snatch the creature quickly, a shadow looming overhead halts your footsteps. Behind you.
Before you can think to run, you wind back, meager arrow in hand providing little defense against the attacker.
First thing you take in is how huge they are. At least six feet tall if not taller, brilliantly ruby eyes revealing its true identity.
Beast.
With ease the man has your efforts pinned, curiousity overflowing as the animal looks at you. Yet, he doesn’t look like an animal, and apart from those eyes of his, no other factors would’ve revealed him to you but that.
This Beast has a fox-like face. A younger stature and smaller, slanted features.
“Hyung, what is this?” He asks, lifting your petrified frame like you were the rabbit you’d killed earlier.
His older counterpart glances over, and any hope of getting released plummets upon those wild crimson hues focusing in on you—knowledgeable as to what you were.
The cooking grease had long worn off, and your identity was likely as apparent as can be.
Mage.
Older Beast easily roaming through the snow, his fingers tangle into your hair, drawing out a cry when he jerks his hand up, forcing your gaze to meet his through the searing sting of your scalp. The younger grimaces.
His long, nearly white hair is tied into a ponytail, sharp cheekbones and calculating stare beyond intimidating. Beneath his left eye you note a small, distinct mole.
“One remained, huh.”
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
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amostnobleyandere · 1 year
Text
Yandere! Scaramouche x GN! Reader
summary: reader lives in a small town and hates it, scara drops by, and then they get kidnapped.
A/N: tiny-whiny, teeny-weeny lil ficlet!
!!! do not read if you are not comfortable with yandere content !!!
warning(s): YANDERE, yandere content, kidnapping, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship, forced affection, forced marriage, scara has a bad temper and is irritated af literally all the time, mention of blood and gore for two seconds
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people in your little village had always told you that your reckless behavior would lead to something dangerous. something that you wouldn’t be able to handle. the warnings had been thrown at you throughout the years, but never seemed to have any effect on your behavior.
in fact, they had warned you about him before you had even met. the second he came into town, actually. he was the fatui harbinger that walked across nations like he owned them, looked at people as if they were weeds at his feet, and spit burning words with an acid coated tongue. he was shrewd and had an explosive temper that matched his arrogant personality. he spilt blood without care, laying battlefields in rivers of crimson. he was not merciful, not kind, and you were certain there were no traits that could have possibly redeemed him as a man, much less a human, now that you knew he was made from clay and paint rather than flesh and blood.
it was just a way to have a little fun; that’s how it had started, and that’s how you had rationalized it. for once in your life, you were flirtatious, bold with reckless abandon, and charmingly lovely with a man, doing your best to grab his attention. the only appeal of trying to form a relationship with him came from the fact that he was a harbinger and had seen the world, something that you had always dreamed about; it mattered little to you that he was cross and sarcastic, as long as there was a possibility that he would let you see the world outside of the quaint huts and humble farmland that you grew up in
you did recognize that you were practically walking to your death; you really did. you weren’t so stupid to think that pestering a harbinger, someone so desensitized to human suffering, blood and gore alike, would leave you with no consequences.
but, you had lived in a small town in the secluded countryside, with homely people and an itch to see the unknown. your life felt repetitive, stuck, and it nearly drove you mad. so yes, when one of the harbingers of the Tsarita, a god among mortals, suddenly lodged himself into the boring domesticity of some random no-name town on secret business, you became a little overexcited. for once, something big was making waves in your life, with the violet haired man at the center of it all. the rush went to your head quickly, and you found yourself playing a game that had dire consequences if (when) you lost.
you were friendly at best, and coy at worst. you vied for his attention. you greeted him cheerfully when he obviously did not want to be greeted. you smiled when his temper went off and he snapped at you with that vile mouth, all cruel words and biting remarks.
worst of all, you talked with him. you spent time with him, walked and made conversation, not noticing how he almost relaxed around you. looking back on it, you think that was what had put the nail in your coffin.
there was no sign that he was attached to you, and you were content with your rocky companionship in the end.
one day even, he said he had never met someone so forward, but he spoke the words with a sneer that revealed his displeasure at your persistence.
you took that sneer as a sign that he wanted nothing to do with you, however persistent you may have been. that he would simply use you as a source of entertainment, and then leave, leave your little town, like you so desperately ached to.
and you told him this, too. you told him about your dreams, your hopes, one day with a sad smile and a bitter laugh. perhaps it had just been the fact that you were talking with someone who might sympathize with you, or at least, consider your words of traveling the world and treat them as if they could actually become reality.
on this day, his eyes did soften. he looked at you not with irritation or annoyance, but with a placid and neutral expression. he did not speak. his eyes only looked through you, meeting your gaze and not turning away. his silence quickly began to make you uncomfortable, and you changed to subject with a forced laugh, excusing yourself to go back home, as the sun went down behind the hills and the glow began to dim from your skin.
he left the next day. that was all you expected to see of him in the end. you returned back to your daily life easily. you were not happy, but remorsefully indifferent towards the fact that the last bit of something new you would probably ever see had left forever; you tried to be.
one day, however, when night had come over your village and all was silent, there was a knock at your door. you got up, not expecting to see the harbinger standing there with his arms crossed, that same placid expression on his face.
you watched his eyes narrow. he dismissed your reasoning with a wave of his hand. he dragged you outside.
that was the last you saw of your little town.
you travel now. You have to, with him being your husband. but, you never got to see the world. you could not take a step outside of the little bubble he had formed for you. the only joy that came of the never ending travel that was now your life happened when he allowed you to come and walk by his side to explore, letting you gawk and flitter around until he dragged you back with into your little bubble, his hand on your wrist.
you are draped in riches, silks chosen by his hand, and are given every luxury you could ever need.
most importantly, you are his spouse, first and foremost, and are expected to act as such. you entertain yourself at home while hes gone, and greet him when he comes back. it was an easy routine to follow. almost as easy as the one you had back in your old town, which now whenever you thought back to it brought tears to your eyes. at least your life had belonged to you solely, back then. now you are the spouse of a fatui harbinger.
you had stopped trying to get him to let you go, after your last attempt to protest him ripping you from your ordinary life only got you a dismissive wave of his hand and a disinterested glare. never mind that this isn’t what you had meant when you said you wanted to travel the world; he was making it happen. it was better than being stuck in that quaint village for the rest of your mortal life, right?
hadn’t he given you what you wanted? the only price was to stay here, with him, with everything you could ever need at your feet. the only price was your freedom.
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