#- its his sole motivator
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k-yujin · 1 year ago
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read the tags !! // officially quit
#⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ​⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀#ok first of all why am i writing in tags you may ask#well i find it less awkward to express in my tags rather in the actual post it self since im one hell of an awkward piece of shit hihi#ANYWAY TO THE TOPIC OF ME QUITING#this has been very long due#like i mean everyone has to have seen it coming#specially since i dont post as frequently and j lost most of my motivation#one. because school is my current priority#two. is my personal life !!! i’ve been vry vry busy keeping up with irl frends and also my family#but the main reason had to be my lack of motivation as in its non existent#next topic !!!#i will be deleting most of my asks and random posts soem of which are memorable to me will be rbloged to my personal acc !#ah and yes will i be coming back?#probably will be lurking time to time but who knows i might actually come back on joshuas bday solely to post a joshua mb HAHAHAHA#ilovemyman frr#I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS ON THE DAY JOSHUA ACTUALLY POSTED ON HIS IG#ok im getting sooooo off topic#but like hooray my last theme is actually jjong toram HAHAH#i actually quited before november like the end of oct but i was too lazy to make a post about it hehehe#but luvi knew ofc :>#anyway if were close moots frel free to add me in discord not like im actually really active#@stariaz. 🤓#who knows i might actually take this back if suddenly the little devil inside me decides to revive itself#anyway this is user k-yujin offically(?) signing off 🤓🤓#ALSOOO DOESNT MEAN I QUITED PPLCAN USE MY STUFF W/O GIVING CREDS !!! (ehem ehem my dividers 👁)#please give creds or i will literally come alive#i still have someone who acts as my eyes here even though j wont post no more#guys i have to wake up at 5 am gud night 🤩#also i cut my hair 😶#thabks for 3.4k though 🫵🫵
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an-obligatory-blog · 2 months ago
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Is.
Is this a safe space for me to say that I don't like the trope of "Infinite thought his squad was killed by Shadow but in actuality it's a deception by Eggman"?
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ujellys · 1 year ago
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still a massive hater for the fandom misinterpretation that roxas is constantly miserable and aggressive and rude and hates everyone and everything. he reacts understandably upset in the situations he’s put in a few times and suddenly he’s a suicidal angry dude
i also hate the weird idea fandom has that he hates or somewhat loathes sora? i guess it’s because he always reacted angrily when sora was repeatedly brought up in the kh2 intro but it’s fair because he had no clue what was going on and no one was giving him answers. did we forget the ddd scene and the kh3 scenes. he clearly respects and admires sora and understands why sora has the role he does. theres definitely some hurt he feels because of it but never straight up hate
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dullahandyke · 3 months ago
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i need to replay kh1 and also play the rest of the kh games so i can think thoughts about yuriverse!rikai
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sweet-milky-tea705 · 6 months ago
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Raphael's line in front of thorm's mausoleum about him practicing his lines "until they were perfect" is honestly my favorite scene with him. Its just one of the most surprisingly honest lines in the game i think.
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trentcrimminallybeautiful · 2 years ago
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your superhero AU has broken my heart 💔💔💔 protective Ted is so important to me
thank you!! ive been enjoying playing with it. and yeah!! like. i just. protective, pining ted and trent's like i am NOT a damsel!! (<- in this instance, is, in fact, a damsel. he will make an exception for one (1) person)
and like more seriously just. the trust it's about the trust!!! trent doesn't rely on anyone and he gets himself out of bad situations and he's lowkey terrified of this hero who's got him cornered and he's been in this horrible situation for so long but then it's ted and he immediately relaxes. and ted--you know ted realized they had trent and immediately panicked and was ready to just bust in there and it was only beard holding him back and making him be practical about it that didnt have him just bursting through the walls ten minutes after realizing. and him realizing trent trusts him.... holding him and being like oh. i can protect him this way and i can comfort him this way and it's working... augh
anyway im glad you like it 😩
#listen. im a simple man. sometimes i want to write my blorbo being battered and scared getting rescued#but it doesnt always make sense for whatever fandom it is so. hence. elaborate au#admittedly that wasn't my sole motivation for writing it or anything but it was up there.#ANYWAY can you blame him?#trents like im a reporter and a damn good one villains literally hate kidnapping me because im the worst hostage and heroes hate rescuing m#bc i am no fucking damsel.#and then ted 'tenderly holds him as he rescues him and asks him so so softly if hes okay with big warm brown eyes' lasso comes along#and its like. okay so i can get out on my own or i can let my crush simply cradle me in his beefy arms and carry me home. hmm#(im being silly ofc but it also has a lot more to do with like. the actual circumstances. but i think that if trent got kidnapped in the re#regular way where hes just rolling his eyes bc this is How The Game Goes ted would show up and he'd be like#oh nooooo look ive been tied up.... (glances down then sticks hands back in ropes) oh nooooo#and the villains like what the h--#please actually now a crack version of this au where trent just lets himself get kidnapped so ted can rescue him and they're the world's mo#most obnoxious couple. villains stop kidnapping him entirely bc then that one hero just shows up and they banter--totally ignoring the vill#villain--for like ten whole minutes while beard quietly dismantles the villain's shit behind them#ANYWAY IM SORRY IVE GOTTEN OFF TRACK#askbox#anonymous#superhero au
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rubys-domain · 1 year ago
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i might be terrible for feeling like this. but the sheer amount of schadenfreude i have after finding out that freminet is likely going to be a shit unit is through the roof lmao
#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo,ide yo !!#> from watching the zajef prerelease video on him#so i main chongyun right? that means (despite me trying to minmax even though i know my f2p damage will never measure up to spenders)#i generally don't care if the numbers are bad if a unit feels fun to play#hell even if the character is op i would be 90% less likely to use them if i didn't have fun using them (looking at you kuki)#but his kit looks like i'm not gonna enjoy it too#which leaves me with zero motivation to pull on the childe/zhongli banner now#now to watch zajef's lyney video and see if i get tempted to pull for him or if my primos will be safely stashed away for future banners#yknow. i kinda wish i mained a meta dps. or was inclined to main any of the meta dps's#quite frankly all the meta dps's gameplay bore me to death#i'm not saying this because i'm starting to dislike chongyun#i fully intend to be the most obsessive whale solely to optimize this exorcist boy far beyond the boundaries of reason#(that day is not coming anytime soon but you get the picture right? i'm still very much a ride or die for this lil guy)#i'm just tired of people calling him a shit unit. even on r/popsiclemains ppl call him suboptimal or subpar#i know all of those things are true#but it's not surprising that hearing it basically every single time he's mentioned is going to take its toll eventually either,is it?#this is why i just don't bother trying to be part of any community. with any kind of media,i'm someone whom ppl would say has “bad taste”#i just wish chongyun had a niche but still decent playstyle that he's unarguably the best at#being the best shatter dps is not it since shatter's numbers are basically terrible no matter what you do#if they somehow buff shatter in fontaine (since freminet's kit wants to shatter) then maybe i'll make it my main playstyle. but yeah...#the only times i bring out my shatter team are when fighting against pyro/electro enemies,or farming mushrooms#i guess it'd be nice to have zhongli since layla does disrupt reactions that i want chong to be the one proccing#but i just don't feel like breaking my back for yet another 5 star after how long it took to get kokomi#and he's basically guaranteed a rerun in natlan anyway so yeah...#i'm gonna be honest. now that i have kokomi,my motivation to pull for anyone else is almost nonexistent#maybe nilou so i can use kokomi as a driver. but other than her... unless natlan characters are really fucking cool#besides albedo and venti,i don't think i'll ever pull for a new 5 star ever again#after those three i'd only be pulling for vertical investment#or begrudgingly pulling for utility like zhongli
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theloopcrew · 2 years ago
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the thing is is that i'm really not a monogamous shipper at all im just really obsessed with the motives that sort of carry luzeni. like Jigen and or Fujiko with Lupin etc are absolutely a thing that's just fact but when it comes to Lupin and Zenigata it's like Well they're not one thing or another but their relationship is so utterly revealing and grotesque and it eats away at them because they're both terrified of Forever finally ending. so terrified that they will go to the very extent of simulating it all ending over and over. And even moreso they're terrified of the other dying because if one dies than truly, truly the other one does too. And both of them can't exist without the other, not fully, not in the way they could now, there needs to be the chase and the capture and the cycle and the defeat and the victory because it's what's defines them. Anyway do you guys think Jigen and Lupin got shotgun married in Vegas while blackout drunk
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feyburner · 5 months ago
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I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app
*
Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.
“No?” he says.
“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”
“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”
He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.
And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.
“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”
“Lightyears beyond, actually.”
“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”
He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.
“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”
“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.
“Exactly.”
“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”
Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”
Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”
“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”
“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”
There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.
“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”
“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”
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arilevenatz · 16 days ago
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Royally Bound
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Pairing: Prince!Seonghwa x reader
Genre: Arranged marriage au, fluff (omg so much of it)
Word count: 10k
Warnings: none :)
AN: Get ready to be bombarded with the most gentleman of gentleman Seonghwa. Omg he is so sweet to mc. I wrote this solely because I had a thought of ONE scene from this and I wrote an entire fic based on it. And don't forget to like and reblog pls it motivates me to write more!!!
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In the heart of the flourishing kingdom of Eryndor stood a grand castle, its towering spires reaching toward the heavens as if to touch the very stars. Within its walls resided the royal family: King Park, a wise and benevolent ruler; Queen Park, a graceful and compassionate woman; and their only son, Crown Prince Park Seonghwa.
Prince Seonghwa was the embodiment of strength and discipline. His cold, straightforward demeanor had earned him a reputation as a strict and unyielding leader. While some whispered of his severity, the majority of Eryndor’s people revered him. For though his words were sharp and his judgments firm, his actions always spoke of his deep love for the kingdom.
Each morning, as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the castle windows, Seonghwa would rise, his mind already set on the day’s duties. From overseeing military drills to attending council meetings, his meticulous nature allowed no room for error. He walked the castle halls with a commanding presence, his dark eyes scanning every corner, every detail, ensuring that everything was in its rightful place.
Despite his stern exterior, Seonghwa’s heart was one of quiet devotion. He spent hours in the castle library studying the histories of past kings and queens, seeking wisdom to guide his future rule. He visited the kingdom's towns and villages, speaking to the people not with flowery words but with a genuine desire to understand their struggles.
Even in the grand halls of the castle, where the kingdom’s most influential figures gathered for meetings and important events, Crown Prince Seonghwa was a figure of quiet authority. Draped in royal attire that reflected his status, he sat at the long, ornate table, his posture impeccable, his expression unreadable.
Unlike many who sought to fill the air with their voices, Seonghwa remained silent, his sharp eyes observing every gesture, every word exchanged. He spoke only when addressed directly, and even then, his responses were concise and precise, like arrows hitting their mark.
At times, his silence unnerved those around him. Ministers and advisors would glance at him nervously, uncertain of what he might be thinking. Yet, when he did speak, his words carried such weight and clarity that they often silenced the entire room.
During a particularly heated council meeting, where arguments about the kingdom’s trade policies had reached a crescendo, Seonghwa had remained still, his gaze shifting between the quarreling parties. Finally, when the king himself turned to him for his opinion, Seonghwa’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
“Trade benefits the kingdom only when it is fair and sustainable,” he stated coldly. “If you cannot negotiate terms that protect Eryndor’s interests while maintaining alliances, then perhaps someone more capable should handle the matter.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone present. Though his tone was devoid of anger, his bluntness left no room for misinterpretation. The advisors exchanged uneasy glances, while the king nodded, a faint smile of approval gracing his lips.
At royal banquets and celebrations, Seonghwa’s presence was equally commanding, even though he rarely indulged in pleasantries. While others mingled and exchanged smiles, he stood by the sidelines, his watchful eyes scanning the room for anything amiss. When addressed, he responded with the same measured calm, his words carrying a sense of purpose that few could match.
The people of Eryndor often whispered about his reserved nature, some calling it aloofness, others seeing it as strength. But whether feared or admired, there was no denying that Crown Prince Park Seonghwa was a man of unwavering discipline and control, a leader who valued action over words and results over empty promises.
The grand dining hall of the castle was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, its high ceilings adorned with intricate carvings of Eryndor’s storied history. The royal family dined in silence, the clinking of silverware the only sound until Queen Park, with her ever-graceful demeanor, broke the silence.
“Seonghwa,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “your father and I have been discussing a matter of great importance.”
The Crown Prince, seated at the head of the table, set his goblet down with practiced precision. His dark eyes lifted to meet hers, his expression as composed as ever. “Pray, speak your mind, Mother.”
The queen exchanged a brief glance with the king before continuing. “It is time, my son, for you to consider a union. The kingdom requires a future queen, someone to stand by your side and share the burdens of rule.”
Seonghwa leaned back in his chair, his posture unyielding as his gaze shifted between his parents. “Is that so?” His tone was measured, devoid of enthusiasm. “I was under the impression that my duties as Crown Prince were quite sufficient without the added endeavor of courtship.”
King Park sighed, his deep voice resonating through the room. “It is not merely about duty, Seonghwa. A union strengthens alliances, fortifies the kingdom’s position, and, dare I say, may bring you some measure of solace in the years to come.”
“Solace,” Seonghwa repeated, a faint trace of irony in his voice. “How poetic. Yet I see no such necessity. The kingdom flourishes, the council obeys, and the people prosper. What more is required?”
Queen Park’s serene expression faltered ever so slightly. “A ruler cannot stand alone forever. You may not see the need now, but in time, you will.”
For days thereafter, the subject lingered like an unwelcome guest, the queen and king broaching the topic at every opportunity. Seonghwa, however, remained steadfast in his reluctance, deflecting their attempts with a mastery born of his disciplined nature.
But even the most resolute walls crumble under relentless tides. On the morning of the seventh day, Seonghwa finally relented, though his disinterest was plain for all to see.
“Very well,” he said, his voice as cold as the winter wind. “If it shall grant me relief from your incessant nagging, I shall meet this woman you have selected. But let it be known, I do this not out of desire, but out of obligation.”
Queen Park’s face lit up with a hopeful smile, though she knew better than to voice her triumph aloud. “You shall not regret it, my son. We have known the Hwang household for a while now.”
Seonghwa rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and measured. “We shall see, Mother,” he replied, his tone carrying the faintest edge of skepticism. “Though I pray you do not expect me to feign interest where there is none.”
With that, he left the room, his long cloak trailing behind him, the echo of his boots fading into the distance. The queen sighed, her heart a mixture of relief and concern. For while her son had agreed, his heart remained as untouchable as ever.
The Hwang household was one of great renown in the kingdom, its name carrying a legacy of loyalty and service to the royal family. Your grandfather, Hwang Taejin, had been the closest confidant of King Park when he ascended the throne, forging a bond that still tied the two families together.
As the youngest daughter, you were the quiet shadow amidst your lively siblings. Your eldest sister, Hwang Seoyoon, was the pride of the family—a graceful woman of charm and poise, admired by many. Your brothers, Hwang Jinhyuk, Hwang Minseok, and Hwang Daehyun, were no less impressive: boisterous, ambitious, and ever eager to showcase the family’s brilliance to the world.
And then there was you.
While Seoyoon spent hours selecting gowns and jewels, and your brothers busied themselves with their social engagements, you preferred the solace of your room or the quiet corners of the garden. Your straightforward nature often set you apart; you had no patience for flowery words or pointless chatter. When spoken to, you answered with blunt honesty, a trait that earned you both admiration and exasperation in equal measure.
“Honestly, you’re hopeless,” Seoyoon often sighed, fussing over her reflection in a gilded mirror. “How can you expect to make a good match if you refuse to step outside?”
“Who says I expect to make a match at all?” you would reply, your tone calm but unyielding.
Jinhyuk, the eldest of your brothers, was no less persistent. “You’re the youngest. People expect you to be lively and charming, not... whatever this is.” He gestured vaguely in your direction.
“Then people are fools for expecting anything at all,” you would counter, much to his chagrin.
Minseok and Daehyun, the middle brothers, often tried to coax you out of the house with promises of excitement. “Come, little sister,” Minseok would say, his grin infectious. “There’s a festival in the town square. You’ll love it!”
“No,” you replied curtly, not even glancing up from your book.
“Just once,” Daehyun chimed in, leaning against the doorframe. “You’re wasting your youth locked away in here.”
“Better to waste it in peace than to squander it in nonsense,” you retorted.
Your parents, while loving, were equally puzzled by your reluctance to engage in the vibrant social life your family cherished. “You are a Hwang,” your mother reminded you one evening. “With that name comes responsibility. You cannot hide away forever.”
But you didn’t see it as hiding. To you, the world beyond your home was a noisy, chaotic place, and you found no joy in it. The garden, the library, the quiet evenings by the fire—these were your treasures, and you saw no reason to trade them for the fleeting pleasures your siblings pursued.
Unbeknownst to you, however, your life was about to be entangled with the royal family in a way you could never have anticipated.
The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the windows of your room as you sat in your favorite corner, a thick book resting in your lap. The quiet rustle of pages was soothing, a rare moment of peace in a household that was anything but.
Your eldest sister, Seoyoon, had made herself comfortable on the chaise near the window. She was in the midst of a long-winded tale about the latest fashions in court, her voice animated and full of excitement. You, however, barely glanced up, too engrossed in the intricate story unfolding in your book.
“And then Lady Eunhwa had the audacity to wear the same gown twice in one week!” Seoyoon exclaimed, placing a dramatic hand on her chest. When you failed to respond, she huffed, her voice turning teasing. “Are you even listening? Or is that book more interesting than my tales?”
“Far more interesting,” you replied bluntly, not looking up.
She clicked her tongue in exasperation but continued regardless. “Oh, by the way, two of the king’s guards came by today.”
At that, your eyes flickered up from the page, though only briefly. It wasn’t unusual for members of the royal household to visit. After all, the king favored your father greatly, treating him almost like a younger brother. The king, slightly younger than your late grandfather, had become close to your family over the years, especially as your father had grown into a trusted confidant.
“It’s hardly news, unnie,” you said, turning a page. “The king’s guards have been here countless times before.”
“Yes, but they don’t usually come with such a formal air,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I overheard Father speaking with them. It seems they were delivering a message about... well, something rather important.”
You raised an eyebrow, finally giving her your full attention. “Important how?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to spoil the mystery,” she said coyly, though you could tell she was itching to share. “But I will say this—it has something to do with Prince Seonghwa.”
At the mention of the Crown Prince, you frowned. “Why would anything involving him concern us?”
Seoyoon leaned closer, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a secret. “The relationships are a bit tangled, don’t you think? The king was close to Grandfather, but he had Prince Seonghwa later in life. Meanwhile, Father had us all when he was still quite young. It makes the royal family feel less like distant rulers and more like... well, extended relatives.”
“Relatives who happen to rule the kingdom,” you muttered, shutting your book with a quiet thud. “What exactly are you trying to say, unnie?”
She smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “I’m saying, little sister, that perhaps this visit wasn’t as routine as it seemed. Perhaps you should start paying more attention to the world outside your books. You never know what might be coming your way.”
You stared at her for a moment, trying to decipher her meaning. But when she simply rose from her seat with a graceful shrug and left the room, you couldn’t help but feel a nagging sense of unease. Whatever the king’s guards had come for, you had a sinking feeling it would disrupt the quiet life you so fiercely cherished.
When Crown Prince Seonghwa learned of the arrangements his parents had made, he stood in the vast study of the royal palace, his arms crossed behind his back as he gazed out of the towering windows. The distant sound of the bustling kingdom below barely registered in his mind.
“So, it is the youngest daughter of the Hwang household,” he said aloud, his tone carefully neutral, though there was a faint trace of hesitation in his voice.
Queen Park, seated gracefully by the hearth, nodded with a small smile. “Indeed. Youngest of Hwang. A quiet young lady, from what I have gathered. She is much unlike her siblings, preferring solitude to society. A curious match, I admit, but one worth considering.”
Seonghwa turned to face his mother, his expression calm but his thoughts clearly at war. “The connections between our families are... unusual, to put it plainly,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Her grandfather, as you know, he and Father shared a bond that went beyond mere loyalty. But then there’s her father—he’s younger than father, yet he married and had children before he did. My father married late and had me even later. That’s a strange difference in timing and position, don’t you think?”
He sighed, pacing slowly as he spoke, his thoughts almost unraveling as he considered the oddities of the situation. “The generations between us are not just tangled—they’re almost mismatched. It’s a contrast of decisions, timing, and expectations that’s hard to ignore.”
He glanced at his mother, the faintest trace of doubt in his eyes. “I understand the deep affection for the Hwang family, especially given the history with my father and her grandfather. But I wonder if that admiration has made him overlook how strange these connections really are. It’s a lot to consider in something as important as marriage.”
The queen chuckled softly, though her gaze was steady. “You speak as though this is of great consequence. The ties between our families have always been strong. Surely you understand why your father holds them in such high regard.”
Seonghwa exhaled, his brow furrowing slightly. He did understand. The Hwang family had been pillars of loyalty and wisdom for decades, their contributions to the crown invaluable. The late Hwang Taejin had been more than a counselor to King Park—he had been a brother in spirit, if not in blood. And even now, the king's fondness for the Hwang household was evident in every interaction.
Still, the prince could not shake his reservations. “I do not question their loyalty or merit,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “But I see little reason to entangle myself in such matters simply because of sentiment.”
“You agreed to meet her, Seonghwa,” the queen reminded him gently. “It would do you well to approach this with an open mind. Who knows? Perhaps you will find her company agreeable.”
Seonghwa gave a faint, almost imperceptible scoff. “Agreeable,” he echoed. “I have little need for agreeable company, Mother. What I require is a partner of intellect, strength, and understanding. If she possesses these qualities, then perhaps this meeting will not be entirely futile.”
“Fate has a way of surprising us,” the queen said softly, rising to her feet. She placed a hand on her son’s arm, her expression a mixture of hope and fondness. “Give her a chance, Seonghwa. That is all we ask of you.”
The prince nodded curtly, though his mind remained conflicted. He was no stranger to duty, but this arrangement felt... complicated. And yet, as much as he might resist, he could not entirely ignore the deep respect his father held for the Hwang family. If nothing else, he owed it to the king to see this through.
As he returned to his chambers later that evening, Seonghwa allowed himself a rare moment of reflection. Her name lingered in his thoughts, an enigma wrapped in his family’s history. He resolved to meet her with the same quiet strength and scrutiny he approached all things—but he would not let sentiment cloud his judgment.
For a man as steadfast as Seonghwa, the prospect of meeting someone new, especially under such circumstances, was a challenge. But little did he know, the meeting would test him in ways he had never anticipated.
The soft afternoon light filtered through the window beside you, casting warm patterns on the wooden floor. You were curled up in a small nook by the window, a quiet corner of the house that you had claimed as your own. The garden beyond the glass was lush and vibrant, its blooms swaying gently in the breeze. It was a peaceful sight, one you often sought solace in.
The sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence, and you sighed quietly, already bracing yourself for the disruption. Moments later, Seoyoon and Minseok burst into the room, their faces alight with a mixture of excitement and intrigue.
“Y/N,” Seoyoon began, her voice sing-song as she made her way toward you. “Have you heard what Father’s been planning?”
You didn’t look up from your book, your tone flat as you replied, “I’m sure you’ll tell me regardless of whether I have or not.”
Minseok laughed, plopping down onto a nearby chair. “She’s as blunt as ever,” he said, shaking his head. “But you’ll want to hear this, little sister. It’s about the royal family.”
That caught your attention, though you didn’t let it show. Keeping your eyes on the page, you said evenly, “What about them?”
Seoyoon perched herself on the edge of the table, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Apparently, Father has been talking with the king. And do you know what they’ve decided?”
You glanced up at her, your expression unreadable. “I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.”
“They’re planning for you to meet the Crown Prince,” she said, her voice dripping with glee.
You blinked, the words hanging in the air for a moment before you set your book down. “Why?”
Minseok leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? The king and Father have always been close. And with the prince needing a bride, it seems Father thinks you might be a good match.”
Your gaze shifted between your siblings, your mind working to process this sudden revelation. “And no one thought to ask me what I think about this?”
Seoyoon laughed, a melodic sound that made your irritation spike. “Oh, Y/N, you always act as though you have a choice in these matters. This is about duty, about family. You should feel honored.”
“Honored,” you echoed, your tone dry. “To be paraded in front of a man I’ve never met, all for the sake of politics? Forgive me if I fail to see the appeal.”
Minseok held up his hands in mock surrender. “We’re just the messengers, little sister. If you have complaints, take them to Father. But I doubt it’ll change anything.”
You turned your gaze back to the garden, your thoughts swirling. The idea of meeting the Crown Prince—a man whose reputation for coldness preceded him—was far from appealing. But you knew your father well enough to know that his mind was likely already made up.
“Lovely,” you muttered under your breath, picking up your book once more. “This is exactly how I wanted to spend my time.”
Seoyoon grinned, patting your shoulder as she stood. “Cheer up, Y/N. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”
As Seoyoon leaned in closer, her grin widening, you sighed and finally closed your book, resting it on your lap. You turned to her, your tone as dry as ever. “Aren’t you married, Seoyoon? Why are you here, meddling in things that don’t concern you? Shouldn’t you be at your own home, managing your household?”
Seoyoon gasped, placing a hand over her chest as though you’d struck her. “How cruel, Y/N! Is this how you speak to your poor elder sister who only wants the best for you?”
“You’re hardly poor, and your meddling is far from helpful,” you retorted, arching an eyebrow. “Go home, Seoyoon. Surely your husband must be wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”
Seoyoon pouted theatrically, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her amusement. “For your information,” she said, drawing herself up with mock dignity, “my work at home is complete. Everything is running perfectly, and my husband is away on business for a while. So, I’ve decided to grace this house with my presence for a couple of weeks.”
You groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Wonderful,” you muttered under your breath. “Just what we all needed.”
Minseok laughed from his seat, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “You should be glad, Y/N. Seoyoon’s here to keep you company. Isn’t that nice?”
“Thrilling,” you deadpanned, leaning back against the nook. “Exactly what I wanted—unsolicited company and unsolicited plans for my life.”
Seoyoon reached out and ruffled your hair in a way that only an older sibling could get away with. “Oh, come now, Y/N. You’ll thank me someday for my wisdom and guidance. Just wait and see.”
You swatted her hand away, glaring at her half-heartedly. “I highly doubt that.”
As she and Minseok shared another laugh, you sighed and picked up your book again, silently bracing yourself for the chaos her extended stay would undoubtedly bring.
The warm glow of the evening lanterns filled the dining hall as your family gathered for the evening meal. The atmosphere was lively, with Seoyoon chatting away about her plans for the week, Minseok teasing her, and your other brothers laughing at their antics. You sat quietly at your usual spot, focused on your plate, letting the noise of the room wash over you.
As the meal was nearing its end, your father cleared his throat, a sure sign that he had something important to say. The room quieted almost instantly, everyone turning their attention to him.
“I have news to share,” he began, his tone steady but carrying a weight that made your stomach sink slightly. “The king and queen, along with the Crown Prince, will be visiting our household in three days’ time.”
The words hung in the air for a moment before they fully registered. Your siblings exchanged surprised glances, and Seoyoon’s face lit up with excitement. You, however, frowned, your grip tightening on your utensils.
“To what purpose?” you asked, your voice calm but edged with suspicion.
Your father met your gaze, his expression firm yet warm. “They are coming to formally meet you, Y/N, and to discuss the arrangements for your marriage to the Crown Prince.”
The room erupted in chatter—your brothers asking further questions, Seoyoon clapping her hands in delight—but you felt as though the ground had shifted beneath you.
“Marriage?” you repeated, your tone sharper now. “And when, exactly, were you planning to inform me of this?”
Your mother, who had been quiet until now, placed a gentle hand on your father’s arm and smiled at you. “Y/N, we knew you’d react this way, and we didn’t want to burden you with unnecessary worries before everything was set.”
“Unnecessary worries?” you echoed incredulously, setting down your utensils with a clatter. “You’re discussing my marriage—my future—and you didn’t think I should have a say in the matter? Or even be informed before decisions were made?”
Your father waved a hand dismissively, his tone remaining calm but final. “This is not something for you to worry about, Y/N. The king himself has chosen you, and this is a great honor for our family. Everything has been decided with the best intentions for you and for us all.”
“But—” you tried to protest, only for Seoyoon to cut in, her voice bright and eager.
“Oh, Y/N, stop being so dramatic! It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about! What more could you possibly want?”
You shot her a glare but bit back your retort, knowing it would be futile. Looking back at your father, you tried one last time. “I only wish I had been told sooner. Surely I deserve that much.”
“Y/N,” your father said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You are my daughter, and as part of this family, you must trust that we have made the right choice for you. The matter is settled.”
You sank back in your chair, the weight of their words pressing down on you. Around you, the conversation quickly shifted to the preparations for the royal visit, your family buzzing with excitement. But you couldn’t shake the frustration and unease bubbling within you.
You sat quietly, your appetite gone, staring down at your untouched plate as their voices grew distant in your mind. The life you cherished—the quiet, predictable solitude—was slipping away, and no one seemed to care.
The day the royals arrived, the Hwang household was bustling with activity. The servants had been working tirelessly to prepare the house, and your family was dressed in their finest attire. You stood near the back of the receiving room, watching as your parents greeted the king, queen, and the Crown Prince with warm smiles and formal bows.
When they entered, Prince Seonghwa's presence was immediately commanding. Dressed in a perfectly tailored royal suit, his sharp features and cold demeanor matched everything you had heard about him. He was polite but distant, exchanging pleasantries with your father and siblings, his tone measured and precise.
You, however, remained quiet, answering only when directly addressed, and even then, your responses were curt and to the point. The rest of your family, particularly Seoyoon, made up for your lack of enthusiasm with their excitement and chatter.
After a lengthy discussion between your father and the king about the arrangements, your mother approached you with a pointed look and said softly, “Y/N, why don’t you and the prince have a private conversation? Get to know each other.”
You wanted to protest, but before you could, Seoyoon nudged you forward with a teasing smile. Reluctantly, you followed the prince to the garden, where the air was cooler, and the faint scent of blooming flowers lingered.
Seonghwa walked a step ahead of you, his hands clasped behind his back. When you reached the center of the garden, he turned to face you, his dark eyes scanning your face for a moment before he spoke.
“I trust you find this arrangement agreeable?” he asked, his tone formal and detached.
You gave a polite nod. “If it pleases my family, then it pleases me.”
He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “That is... an expected answer. You speak of duty rather than choice.”
“It seems choice was never part of the discussion,” you replied evenly, your gaze meeting his without flinching.
For a moment, there was silence between you, the distant hum of conversation from the house filling the space. Seonghwa tilted his head slightly, studying you. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
You hesitated for a moment before answering. “I speak when there’s something worth saying.”
A faint flicker of amusement crossed his face, so brief you almost missed it. “An admirable philosophy,” he said. “Though it makes conversations rather... challenging.”
“That depends on who I’m speaking to,” you replied, your tone calm but not unkind.
He seemed to consider your words, his expression softening just slightly. “Fair enough,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I suppose I am not accustomed to people who value silence over unnecessary chatter.”
You didn’t respond immediately, instead letting the silence stretch between you. The weight of his gaze was palpable, but you refused to shrink under it. Finally, you said, “I’m sure the prince has little need for idle conversation, either.”
This time, his lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But I find myself curious about you, Miss Hwang. You are... different.”
You inclined your head slightly. “Different isn’t always favorable, Your Highness.”
“Not always,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “But sometimes it is necessary.”
The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the quiet garden suddenly feeling more intimate than before. You couldn’t quite read the prince, his every word and movement calculated, but there was a strange sense of understanding in his tone.
Before either of you could say more, a servant appeared in the garden, bowing deeply. “Your Highness, the king has requested your presence.”
Seonghwa nodded once, then turned back to you. “Until next time, Miss Hwang.”
You offered a polite nod in return. “Your Highness.”
As he walked away, you exhaled softly, unsure of what to make of the exchange. Something about the prince unsettled you—not in an unpleasant way, but in a way that left you wondering.
It had been a week since the royals left, and life at the Hwang household had returned to its usual rhythm—at least on the surface. Beneath the calm, preparations for your upcoming marriage were already in full swing, much to your quiet displeasure. You found solace in your little routines, but even that was short-lived.
One crisp morning, as you sat in your usual nook by the window with a book in hand, a servant hurried in with a message. “Miss, the Crown Prince has arrived. He wishes to take you on an outing.”
You froze, the words sinking in. Closing the book slowly, you looked up. “Did he say why?”
The servant hesitated. “No, miss. But your father has already given his approval.”
Of course, you thought grimly. Rising reluctantly, you made your way to the front of the house, where the prince stood waiting. He was dressed impeccably, as always, and his expression was as composed as you remembered.
“Miss Hwang,” he greeted with a slight bow.
“Your Highness,” you replied, offering a polite nod.
“I trust you are ready?” he asked, though his tone made it clear that readiness was not optional.
With no room to argue, you stepped forward, and the two of you were soon seated in a carriage heading toward the nearby town. The ride was silent, save for the occasional creak of the wheels. You glanced out of the window, unsure of what to say—or if you should say anything at all.
Finally, Seonghwa broke the silence. “I take it this arrangement was not your idea either.”
You turned to him, surprised by his bluntness. “No, it wasn’t. But I assume it wasn’t yours, either.”
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You assume correctly. It seems our families are quite determined to ensure we... bond.”
“Bonding is difficult when both parties are here against their will,” you said, your tone matter-of-fact.
His smirk grew just slightly. “Indeed. Though I must admit, it is refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t mask their opinions with pleasantries.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “I could say the same, Your Highness. Most people would not dare admit to disliking an arrangement like this.”
“Most people are not in my position,” he replied simply.
The carriage came to a stop, and the footman opened the door. Seonghwa stepped out first, offering you his hand. Reluctantly, you took it, allowing him to help you down. The two of you stood at the entrance to the bustling town square, the lively atmosphere a stark contrast to the tense silence between you.
“This town is known for its markets,” Seonghwa said, gesturing to the colorful stalls ahead. “I thought it might be... suitable for an outing.”
You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Was that your idea, or your family’s?”
He paused, his gaze steady. “Does it matter?”
You didn’t answer, instead turning your attention to the market. The two of you walked side by side, the chatter and laughter of the townsfolk filling the air. Occasionally, Seonghwa would point out a stall or comment on a vendor’s goods, but your responses were short and polite.
At one point, he stopped in front of a flower vendor, his eyes scanning the vibrant array of blooms. “Do you have a favorite flower, Miss Hwang?”
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Not particularly.”
He picked up a small bouquet of white lilies, studying them for a moment before handing them to the vendor. “Then allow me to choose,” he said, his tone calm but firm.
You accepted the bouquet hesitantly, unsure of what to say. The gesture felt oddly personal, and you couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or annoyed.
As the outing continued, the initial stiffness between you began to ease—just slightly. By the time the sun began to set, the carriage ride back was not as silent as before. Though your exchanges were still brief, there was a newfound understanding between you, however faint it might have been.
When you arrived back at the Hwang household, Seonghwa escorted you to the door, his expression as composed as ever. “Thank you for indulging this outing, Miss Hwang. I hope it was not entirely unpleasant.”
You glanced at him, clutching the bouquet of lilies. “It was... tolerable,” you said, a hint of dry humor in your tone.
He inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “I shall take that as a success. Until next time.”
With that, he turned and left, leaving you standing at the door with the flowers in hand. As you watched the carriage disappear down the path, you couldn’t help but wonder what the next “arranged” meeting would bring.
You retreated to your room, eager for solitude. You placed the bouquet of white lilies on a small table near the window, their subtle fragrance filling the air as you sat on the edge of your bed.
Moments later, your door creaked open without so much as a knock. Seoyoon stepped in, her eyes immediately landing on the bouquet. A mischievous grin spread across her face.
“Well, well,” she began, closing the door behind her. “It seems the Crown Prince is quite the gentleman, isn’t he?”
You didn’t look up, reaching for the book on your bedside table. “If you’re here to tease me, save your breath. I’m not in the mood.”
“Oh, come now,” she said, flopping onto the chair near the window and picking up one of the lilies. “A prince gives you flowers, and you sit here sulking as if it were some great tragedy. Most girls would be over the moon!”
“You’re welcome to them if you’re so envious,” you replied dryly, flipping a page.
Seoyoon gasped theatrically, holding the lily to her chest. “How heartless! And here I thought you might finally soften up a little. Tell me, how did it go? Did he say anything romantic? Or was it all as cold and stiff as you?”
You shot her a glare over the top of your book. “It was... fine. He talked. I listened. That’s all there is to it.”
“‘Fine,’” she echoed, rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that? Most people would kill for a chance to speak with him, let alone be courted by him.”
“I’m not ‘most people,’” you replied, your voice flat.
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You didn’t thank him for the flowers, did you?”
Your silence was enough.
Seoyoon groaned, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re hopeless, truly. The least you could do is try to show some interest. He’s the Crown Prince, for goodness’ sake!”
Closing your book with a snap, you fixed her with a level stare. “I didn’t ask for any of this, Seoyoon. I didn’t ask for the flowers, the outing, or the marriage. If he wants to court someone, he can find someone who actually cares.”
Seoyoon sighed, her teasing demeanor softening slightly. “I know you didn’t ask for this, Y/N. But it’s happening, whether you like it or not. You could at least give him a chance. Who knows? He might surprise you.”
You, staring at the lilies with a faint frown, replied bluntly, “He looks like he doesn’t enjoy company himself. This whole arrangement is just as forced on him as it is on me.” You paused, your voice lowering. “I’ve been a burden to all of you long enough. Now, I’ll just be a burden to the royal family instead.”
Her brows knit together, and she crossed her arms, stepping closer to you. “Y/N, don’t say that. You’re not a burden.”
You let out a humorless laugh, finally looking up at her. “Am I not? Everyone in this house pushes me to be someone I’m not. To go out, to socialize, to act the part. And now, I’m being married off to a prince who probably thinks I’m as much of a nuisance as I think this whole situation is.”
Seoyoon crouched slightly so she could look directly into your eyes, her expression unusually serious. “You’re not a nuisance, and you’re not a burden. You’re just... different. And that’s not a bad thing.”
You sighed, shaking your head. “It doesn’t matter what I think, does it? I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for Father, for the family, for appearances. Isn’t that all I’ve ever done?”
Seoyoon’s lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but no words came out. She knew you were right, at least in part. Finally, she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I won’t pretend to understand how you feel, but I do know this—whatever the reason for this marriage, it’s not because you’re a burden. You’re marrying a prince, Y/N. That means, whether you like it or not, someone sees your worth.”
You scoffed, but your gaze softened slightly. “Or they just see what’s convenient.”
Seoyoon straightened up and shook her head with a faint smile. “You’ll see, Y/N. Maybe he doesn’t look like the warmest person, but I doubt he’s as indifferent as you think. People like him don’t show their cards right away.”
“Or ever,” you muttered under your breath.
“Give him a chance,” she urged one last time, heading for the door. “And give yourself one too.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, you turned back to the lilies, their delicate beauty contrasting sharply with the heaviness in your chest. A burden or not, the path before you had been set. All that remained now was to walk it, whether you liked it or not.
The royal wedding was a grand affair, filled with splendor and elegance that you could hardly process. The intricate decorations, the endless sea of nobles in fine clothing, and the constant hum of polite conversation all blurred together in your mind. Through it all, you remained stoic, performing each ritual with quiet precision.
Seonghwa, as expected, was composed and regal throughout, his every action calculated and perfect. Yet there was something in his demeanor—something almost... softer than you’d expected.
When the final ritual was completed, and the two of you were officially declared husband and wife, the grand hall erupted into applause. You stood there, holding his hand lightly as tradition demanded, your expression unreadable.
It wasn’t until the two of you were seated at the head of the banquet table that Seonghwa’s façade shifted ever so slightly. Leaning closer, he asked in a low voice, “Are you comfortable, Miss Hwang?”
You blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “It’s Lady Park now,” you replied, your tone calm.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Ah, yes. My apologies. Are you comfortable... Lady Park?”
You hesitated, then nodded. “I am fine, Your Highness.”
He glanced at the feast before you, his voice quiet but insistent. “And the food? Is it to your liking?”
“It’s... more than sufficient,” you replied, unsure how else to respond.
For a moment, silence hung between you as you both turned your attention to the crowd of nobles mingling below. Then, out of nowhere, Seonghwa leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours. “See that man in the green coat near the pillar?” he whispered, his tone conspiratorial.
Your eyes followed his gaze to a portly man with a large mustache. “Yes?”
“That’s Lord Baek. He prides himself on his wine collection, yet he can’t tell the difference between a rare vintage and a common bottle of grape juice. It’s quite the running joke among the court.”
You glanced at him, unsure whether to laugh or remain indifferent. “And you’re telling me this because...?”
“Because,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “you’ll hear him mention his wine at least three times tonight. Consider it a test of your patience.”
Despite yourself, a small smile ghosted across your lips. “Noted.”
He nodded, his expression still unreadable but his tone oddly warm. “And over there, by the orchestra—that’s Lady Seo. She once petitioned the court to create a holiday celebrating her dog’s birthday.”
This time, you couldn’t suppress a quiet chuckle. “You’re joking.”
“I assure you, I am not,” he said, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. “The petition was, of course, denied.”
As the evening progressed, Seonghwa continued his whispered commentary, pointing out various nobles and sharing tidbits about them. His tone remained calm and steady, but there was a subtle playfulness in his words that made it feel almost like a private game between the two of you.
For the first time, the weight of the occasion felt a little less suffocating. While you remained stoic, you couldn’t deny that his unexpected warmth and attentiveness were... surprising.
When the banquet finally began to wind down, he leaned closer once more, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “I know this is overwhelming, Lady Park, but if it is any consolation, you’ve handled it with grace.”
You turned to him, meeting his steady gaze. “Thank you, Your Highness. Though I suspect you’ve handled it far more times than I ever will.”
He inclined his head slightly, his faint smile returning. “Perhaps. But it seems we’ll be handling it together now.”
The weight of his words lingered as the evening drew to a close, leaving you with an unexpected sense of companionship—however fragile it might have been.
The grand festivities had finally come to an end, and the palace halls grew quiet as the guests dispersed. Servants had escorted you and Seonghwa to the newly prepared royal chamber, its luxurious décor only adding to the weight of the day.
The large room was lit softly by golden sconces and candles, the warmth of the light contrasting with the coolness of your nerves. You stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do or say, your hands fidgeting slightly with the heavy jewelry draped over you.
Seonghwa, ever composed, closed the door behind him. For a moment, he stood silently, observing you with his usual unreadable expression. Then, stepping closer, he spoke in a tone that was softer than you expected.
“May I help you?”
You looked at him, startled. “With...?”
He gestured toward the intricate outer layers of your wedding dress and the heavy ornaments adorning your neck and wrists. “With this. I imagine it has been a long day for you.”
You hesitated, unsure whether to agree, but the weight of the jewelry was becoming unbearable. Finally, you gave him a small nod. “If you wish, Your Highness.”
A faint smile ghosted across his lips as he stepped behind you. “Turn around,” he instructed gently.
You complied, feeling his presence close behind you as his hands moved to unclasp the elaborate necklace around your neck. His movements were careful, precise, as though he feared hurting you.
“This must be heavier than it looks,” he murmured, setting the necklace aside on a nearby table.
“It is,” you replied quietly, your voice barely audible.
He moved to the bracelets next, unfastening them with ease. “I imagine it wasn’t easy to wear all this through the day.”
“It wasn’t, but I managed,” you said, your tone as stoic as ever.
“Of course you did,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.
Next, his hands reached for the ties of your outer gown, his fingers working deftly to loosen them. You felt the fabric lighten as he removed the outer layer, draping it neatly over a chair.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, stepping back slightly. “It felt inappropriate to summon a maid for this.”
You turned to face him, surprised by his consideration. “It’s fine,” you said softly, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away.
He inclined his head slightly, his dark eyes studying you for a moment. “You must be tired. You should rest.”
“And you, Your Highness?” you asked, your tone polite but distant.
He smiled faintly, the expression barely reaching his eyes. “I’ll manage, as I always do.”
With that, he stepped away, giving you space to prepare for bed. Though the room was large and luxurious, the atmosphere between you was quiet, almost delicate. As you finally lay down, your mind swirled with thoughts of the day, of the marriage, and of the man who had, against your expectations, shown you an unexpected gentleness.
When Seonghwa finally settled into the space beside you, he didn’t say a word. Yet, the calmness in his demeanor seemed to ease some of the tension in the room. And though you still felt like strangers, for the first time, you didn’t feel entirely alone.
The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. You lay on the grand bed, staring at the ornate canopy above, trying to will yourself to sleep. The day had been exhausting, yet your mind refused to settle. Beside you, Seonghwa’s steady breathing suggested he was equally restless.
Minutes passed in silence before his voice broke through the stillness, low and steady. “You’re not asleep either, are you?”
You turned your head slightly, catching the faint outline of his face in the dim light. “No,” you admitted. “Too much on my mind.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Understandable. Today was... a lot, even by royal standards.”
You nodded, though he couldn’t see it clearly. “Do you ever get used to it? The expectations, the attention, the... weight of it all?”
“Not entirely,” he replied honestly. “But you learn to carry it differently over time.”
There was a pause, and then he added, “Though I imagine this is harder for you. You didn’t grow up with it.”
You let out a soft sigh, your voice quieter now. “It’s overwhelming. I feel like I don’t belong here.”
He shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. “You’ll find your place. It may take time, but you will.”
You turned to face him, his face now more visible in the faint glow of the firelight. “Why are you being so gentle with me?” you asked, your tone a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
His lips curved into the faintest smile, one corner quirking up. “I’m introverted, not heartless.”
The unexpected honesty in his reply caught you off guard, and for the first time that day, a small, genuine smile tugged at your lips. “Fair point.”
He lay back down, his voice softer now. “I don’t see the point in making this harder than it has to be. We’re both here because of duty, not choice. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to make it bearable.”
You considered his words, the tension in your chest easing just slightly. “I suppose that makes sense.”
After you murmured your agreement, Seonghwa shifted slightly, turning onto his side to face you. His dark eyes, steady and calm, met yours in the dim light.
“You should sleep,” he said softly, his tone carrying a hint of finality. “It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will bring its own demands.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the subtle warmth in his voice despite his usual reserved demeanor. “I could say the same to you,” you replied, your tone quieter now.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely visible in the low light. “I’ll sleep when you do. Consider it... a gesture of fairness.”
You didn’t argue, though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to look away from him. The firelight cast faint shadows on his face, softening the sharpness of his features. For a moment, you wondered if the man who had seemed so cold and distant all day might have more to him than you had assumed.
“Goodnight, Lady Park,” he said, his voice low and steady, his eyes lingering on yours for a beat longer than necessary before he closed them.
You hesitated, then finally replied, “Goodnight, Your Highness.”
Turning onto your back, you stared up at the canopy once more. But this time, the weight of the day felt a little lighter, and though your thoughts still swirled, the warmth of his words lingered, eventually lulling you into a restless, yet strangely comforting sleep.
The soft light of morning filtered through the curtains as you rose, the events of the previous day still weighing on your mind. After breakfast, you were introduced to your lady-in-waiting, a young woman named Eunji. She was polite and cheerful, eager to assist as she began organizing your dresses and jewelry in the royal wardrobe.
As she carefully laid out a selection of necklaces, her eyes lingered on one in particular—a delicate piece adorned with shimmering pearls and intricate goldwork.
“This one is especially beautiful,” she said softly, almost as though she hadn’t meant to voice her thoughts aloud.
You glanced at the necklace, then at her. “Do you like it?”
Her cheeks flushed as she quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, My Lady. It’s not my place to—”
You cut her off gently. “If you like it, you can keep it.”
Eunji froze, her eyes wide. “What? No, My Lady, I couldn’t possibly—His Highness would be furious if he found out—”
“He won’t,” you interrupted, your tone calm but firm. “And even if he does, I’ll deal with him.”
She hesitated, wringing her hands as she looked from you to the necklace. “But it’s too valuable... it wouldn’t be right.”
You sighed lightly, picking up the necklace and placing it in her hands. “Eunji, if I say it’s yours, then it’s yours. Consider it a gift.”
Her eyes filled with hesitation, but also gratitude. “My Lady, you’re too kind...”
“I insist,” you said, giving her a faint smile. “Besides, what’s the point of having all of this if it can’t bring someone a little happiness?”
After a moment of silence, she finally nodded, her fingers curling around the necklace. “Thank you, My Lady. I’ll treasure it.”
You gave her a small nod and returned to sorting through the rest of the items. Though you didn’t say it aloud, her joy over something so simple felt strangely fulfilling, a brief reprieve from the unfamiliar world you now found yourself navigating.
Later that afternoon, Seonghwa approached you as you sat in the study, quietly reading through a book. His footsteps were soft, but his presence was impossible to miss. Without preamble, he spoke, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of curiosity.
“I see you’ve gifted something to one of the servants.”
You looked up from your book, meeting his gaze. His face, as usual, betrayed little emotion, but there was no trace of anger there. “Yes,” you admitted evenly. “Are you mad?”
A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. “It’s your belongings. Do whatever you wish with them.”
His words were simple, yet they carried an air of reassurance that you hadn’t expected.
He paused briefly, glancing toward the window before continuing. “By the way, I noticed you’ve organized your belongings in my room quite efficiently. Impressive.”
You blinked, your calm exterior faltering just slightly. “Should I... remove them?” you asked hesitantly, unsure if he found the arrangement intrusive.
Seonghwa turned his gaze back to you, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “No,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “This room, this house—they’re yours now. You can do whatever you want here.”
For a moment, his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasn’t just giving you permission to arrange your belongings; he was offering you a sense of ownership, of belonging, in a world that still felt foreign to you.
You nodded slowly, unsure how to respond. “Thank you,” you murmured, returning your attention to your book, though your thoughts now lingered on his unexpected generosity.
Seonghwa didn’t say anything more. He simply gave a faint nod and walked away, leaving you with a strange sense of comfort and the quiet realization that, perhaps, this new life wouldn’t be as lonely as you had feared.
The days in the palace continued, a quiet routine settling between you and Seonghwa, interrupted only by the occasional royal event or meeting. You had grown accustomed to the rhythms of royal life, though the sense of unfamiliarity still lingered in the corners of your mind. The grand halls, the soft whispers of servants, the unspoken expectations—they all seemed so far removed from the life you had once known.
One afternoon, as you sorted through your tasks, you hesitated for a moment before turning to Seonghwa, who was seated at his desk, reading through a pile of royal documents.
“Seonghwa,” you began, your voice tentative, “I was wondering if I could have a little money. I need it for... something.”
He glanced up from his papers, his gaze sharp as always, but this time, there was a trace of something softer behind his eyes. He studied you for a moment, and then, it hit him—the realization that you still seemed uncertain, still hesitant when it came to making decisions, even small ones.
He set down his papers, his voice quieter, almost gentle as he addressed you.
“You still ask for permission, don’t you?” he said, a subtle sadness creeping into his words.
You froze, not quite understanding what he meant. “I... I just don’t want to overstep.”
Seonghwa shook his head, standing up from his desk. “This is your house now. It’s your life, your choices. And,” he paused, walking over to you with a soft expression, “my money is your money. You don’t need permission for anything.”
His words were simple, but they carried a weight of sincerity, as though he were explaining something basic to a child. And for a brief moment, you felt a warmth in your chest—a quiet understanding that perhaps, in his own way, Seonghwa was offering you a sense of freedom, something you had never truly known in this new world.
“You can do whatever you want,” he continued, his voice softer now. “The money, the house, everything. It’s yours. Don’t ask for permission again.”
You blinked at him, surprised by the softness in his tone, the genuine care that laced his words. Slowly, you nodded, the nervous tension in your shoulders easing. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seonghwa gave you a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still held a certain warmth. “You don’t need to thank me for that. I’m just reminding you of something you’ve already earned.”
You felt a strange comfort in his words, the weight of them sinking into your heart. It was a small moment, a simple exchange, but somehow it made this life, this strange new world you were trying to navigate, feel just a little more like home.
For the first time since childhood, since stepping into the palace and the unfamiliar life it held, you felt something you hadn’t realized you were missing: importance. You were no longer just a piece in someone else’s game, a mere addition to a royal family that was bound by duty and expectation. Seonghwa’s words—his reminder that this house, this life, was as much yours as it was his—had cracked open something inside you.
Without thinking, your arms moved instinctively, wrapping tightly around him. His presence, his warmth, and the unexpected kindness of his words had unraveled something deep inside you, something you hadn’t let yourself feel before: a sense of belonging.
Seonghwa froze for a moment, clearly startled by the sudden embrace. His body stiffened, unsure of how to react to the closeness, the softness in your hold. You could feel his breath catch slightly, his posture rigid as though he were trying to figure out whether to push you away or to let the moment pass. But you held on, the need to feel this sense of connection overwhelming any reservations you had.
“I... I’m sorry,” you muttered, realizing only then that you were clinging to him, your face pressed against his chest.
For a long, tense moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you felt thick, as though both of you were holding your breath. Then, slowly, you felt Seonghwa’s arms move around you—hesitant at first, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to the warmth of your embrace. But when he did finally wrap his arms around you, the touch was gentle, almost tender, as though he was grounding himself in this unspoken moment.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he murmured quietly into your hair, his voice low and steady. There was an unfamiliar softness in it, a rare vulnerability that he seldom allowed to show. “You’re not a burden, you know.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, the knot in your chest loosening. His words, so simple yet so profound, made your heart flutter. You had been carrying the weight of so many expectations for so long, always trying to be what was needed, always trying to do what was right. But here, in his arms, you felt for the first time like you mattered—not for what you could offer, but for who you were.
“I just... I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, as though you were afraid to speak the truth out loud. “I don’t know how to navigate this life. It feels... so different.”
Seonghwa’s grip on you tightened slightly, not out of necessity but of understanding. “You’re not alone in this, you know. I’m here. I’ll help you find your way.”
His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting. You didn’t need to say anything more. You simply held on, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade. There were no royal expectations, no duty or obligations weighing down on you. There was just Seonghwa, just the feeling of being held, of being seen.
When he finally pulled back, his hands lingered at your sides, a hesitant gesture as if he weren’t ready to completely release the closeness you had just shared. His gaze met yours, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of care, an unspoken connection between the two of you that neither of you had acknowledged until now.
“You’re important,” he said softly, his voice unwavering. “More than you know.”
And in that moment, you loved this feeling, you believed him.
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cybrasigilism · 1 month ago
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NSFW alphabet with Player 230 (Thanos/Choi Su-bong)
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warnings: smut and all things of the like, of course | not proofread! | lowercase intended | these are my head canons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions for the character differ from your own
character: player 230 (thanos/choi su-bong)
A/N: these are way too much fun to do, any letters in the alphabet that i skip are just ones i either couldn’t think of for the character or i didn’t feel comfortable writing about! also, thank you so much for the love on my min-su alphabet! i am currently working on a requested se-mi x f!reader fanfic but consider this a writers warm up! p.s welcome to the thanos world 😈🤟
MDNI! 18+ content ahead, reader discretion is advised!
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A= Aftercare what are they like after sex?
↳ you know damn well that this man knows very little about aftercare. don’t get him wrong, he will do the bare minimum just to make sure you aren’t in any genuine pain, but aside from that, don’t expect much
B= Body part their favourite body part of theirs and of their partner’s
↳ due to the fact that thanos clearly loves himself so much, i would be surprised if there was a part of his body he didn’t like. however, when it comes down to it, he’ll most likely choose his dick as being his own “favourite” body part. as for his partner, he is an ass man and comes by it very honestly
C= Cum anything to do with cum, honestly
↳ he almost never cums inside, most of the time he will cum on your back/stomach (it all depends on what position you guys are in)
D= Dirty secret what dirty secrets do they have?
↳ he’s a switch. do with this what you will
E= Experience how experienced are they? do they know what their doing?
↳ i want you to look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn’t experienced. of course he knows what he’s doing. in fact, he may be a little too experienced. but fret not, he will get tested if you ask him to
F= Favourite position this one speaks for itself
↳ Doggy style, without a doubt. he loves that he can grab your hair and pull you back into it as he fucks you. (its also a great opportunity to bite your neck)
G= Goofy how serious are they in the moment? are they humorous etc.
↳ he takes sex very seriously, but he will probably crack a mocking joke at your expense in the heat of the moment
I= Intimacy how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect?
↳ he’s not exactly comfortable with intimacy, solely because of how vulnerable he feels. but, if you insist on taking things slower and softer, he won’t object
J= Jack off masturbation headcanons
↳ he likes to watch porn to get off, but he doesn’t need it. phone sex is also a big yes for him
K= Kink one or more of their kinks
↳ degradation, DACRYPHILIA, and bondage. need i say more?
L= Location favourite places to do the do
↳ thanos does not strike me as someone who would be opposed to public sex. anywhere that you two can be concealed is fair game for him
M= Motivation what turns them on, gets them going?
↳ no surprise, dirty talk totally gets him going. also if you match his energy and act like a little brat? you will be walking funny for a few days and that’s a guarantee
N= No something they won’t do
↳ anal, thats an exit only area (this includes pegging)
O= Oral preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.
↳ in the words of lil wayne, he’ll eat it ‘til you cry, call that whine and dine. he doesn’t have a preference in giving or receiving, but if he’s the one getting head, you best believe you’ll be deepthroating him
P= Pace are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.
↳ if it were up to him, rough sex would be the only sex you guys had. he’s willing to accommodate, but he might jokingly be begrudging to do so
Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies, are they game and how often?
↳ he’s always down for a quickie, he finds them super hot
R= Risk are they game to experiment? do they take risks?
↳ of course! he lives by the “try everything once” motto, and he really does mean everything. how else are you supposed to figure out what you like?
S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? etc.
↳ whether it’s the drugs or not, his stamina is almost frightening. he could probably last for hours if you let him, especially if he pops an ecstasy pill beforehand. at most, he could go up to 12 minutes per round
T= Toys do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?
↳ he’s definitely got a few toys of his own, mainly ones he can use on his partner. if he really wants to be mean he’ll tease you with a vibrator while he hits it from the back
U= Unfair how much they like to tease
↳ he loves to tease you, to see how far he can push your buttons. he secretly loves it when you tease him too
V= Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.
↳ when he tops, he’s not much of a moaner. he’ll grunt and maybe moan a little if he’s getting close, but as for dirty talk in the thick of it he’ll call you his little whore or refer to you as a cock-drunk bitch. when he’s bottoming however? he whimpers and whines like a little bitch, especially if you tug his hair or choke him lightly.
W= Wildcard a random headcanon for the character
↳ it drives him wild if you LIGHTLY use teeth when you suck his cock
X= X-ray what’s going on underneath those clothes?
↳ he’s pretty lean, but that’s no surprise. as for size, he’s slightly above average hard, around 7” (he’s well aware of how big he is so he will allow you time to adjust during your guys’ first time. he isn’t a monster after all)
Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?
↳ he’s got a relatively high sex drive. he’s always up for fucking
Z= Zzz how quickly they fall asleep afterwards
↳ circling back to the aftercare piece, this dude does not wait for you to sleep before he does, but it all depends on how tired he is afterwards, too
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As always, advice and constructive criticism for my writing are always appreciated! I hope you enjoy, and more to come of course :>
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tainbocuailnge · 6 months ago
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this is a final fantasy fourteen dawntrail post. it speaks incredibly for the desperation of the people of alexandria in its decline that they both couldn't bear to remember the dead and couldn't bear the thought of the dead no longer being remembered, and thus created this contradictory system where the dead are only remembered by something other than those to whom that memory is meaningful. so crushed by collective trauma and grief that they directed every effort to eradicating awareness of mortality altogether and it's resulted in a paradise where everyone is incredibly blasé about dying because the dead live forever in the cloud until they run out of spare souls and are completely paralyzed with fear of their own mortality.
but even more than desperation it speaks of a naive sincerity that the scientists and officials behind the project just actually genuinely built and maintained this giant memory database to preserve the deceased at increasingly large cost, rather than just lie that they totally did that to a populace who won't remember those deceased anyway. they're not harvesting souls to power the war effort while using a recreation of the beloved princess as puppet figurehead, they completely sincerely recreate the dead from their memories and simulate them living happily ever after, started by a sincere desire to not lose their beloved princess. living memory is an eternal theme park that actively goes out of its way to facilitate letting people who remember each other fondly meet again. it's the manifestation of a childish wish for a world where there are no partings, only reunions. it's a theme park rather than an actual city with a dmv and shit like amaurot was precisely Because it's a childish dream. it's fundamentally an artificial experience, but one which sole motive is to bring joy and relief from everyday sadness.
and sphene is the first and most prominent victim of that naive sincerity. she's the mascot of this theme park, and because she's the mascot in charge of providing this artificial but kind experience she can't ever break character. the people of alexandria couldn't bear the thought of her being forgotten, so they created a memory of her that would last forever, but they also couldn't bear to actually remember sphene, so she's a mascot instead of a person. she loves her people, and they love her, but none of them can possibly understand the weight that love puts on her shoulders. the sphene we meet is fundamentally trapped by other people's deeply limited understanding of her.
it's so so so important to her character that she's a small dainty feminine woman that exists to take care of everyone emotionally and be loved by them for being so nice and sweet and loving, and when she tries to arrange some kind of secure future she ends up with an abusive husband who ignores her wants and needs for his own ambitions, and she is fundamentally unable to act outside this highly gendered framework. sphene reads like the commonplace tragedy of the straight woman to me to the point where making her in lesbians with wuk lamat is like. I can certainly understand wanting to grant sphene the sense of liberation and comfort that many lesbians themselves feel at the realisation that they don't have to marry men, so far be it from me to say anyone is wrong to do so. but it's kinda ignoring part of what her deal is for the sake of that comfort I think.
not that lesbians have never ended up in abusive marriages with men but sphene very explicitly does not have other options, part of the tragedy is that you fundamentally cannot actually grant her that liberation and comfort. cahciua explicitly says there's no way to know what the real living sphene would have done because this sphene is a recreated memory of the beloved princess whose job is to sustain living memory. their darling sphene who will always listen to all their troubles and is always nice to them and will always take care of them. she's literally trapped by the role society assigned her, and that role is essentially to be their tradwife mother. the living sphene may have been into women, but the people who recorded her to create the sphene we meet never even considered the option.
do you guys know that tweet thread where OP describes going to a funeral for a woman they didn't know who'd died young of a heart attack, and the husband spent most of the eulogy talking about himself instead of his recently deceased wife, and by the end of the ceremony OP had learned nothing at all about what this woman was like beyond being a wife and mother? everyone fondly remembers the princess and queen of alexandria, but nobody remembers sphene. and just like all OP could still do for this woman was go to her casket and acknowledge that she too had been a full person in her own right before the stress of swallowing everything about herself killed her, all wuk lamat can really still do for sphene is think of her as the full person she must have been.
we're not told anything about what sphene was like as a leader, what her policies were, how she actually did her work, her vision for the future of her country before she died and was reconstructed. they only tell us everyone loved her so dearly because she was so kind to them. we're shown her dying moments and it's her using her airship to shield a civilian, so we can assume her love for her people was indeed true. but none of sphene's history that we're shown and nothing of how otis (who knew the living sphene) talks about her tells us anything about what she was like outside her role as beloved princess. her memories from after her "revival" are dissonant and corrupted and possibly not even real, and her policy of preserving living memory no matter what is a wish implanted in her by the people who reconstructed her. we don't even get to see what she looked like when alive. the only sphene the people know is the theme park mascot of living memory.
cahciua was exactly as erenville knew her and was true enough to herself to be able to turn against the system, so we're not given reason to believe any of the endless were tampered with. but sphene was already dead by the time they even tried to figure out how to preserve her memory, her actual soul and memories definitely long gone by the time the technology worked. we're explicitly told that nobody in everkeep really cared who or what sphene was as long as she adequately fulfilled this role of loving them all so much. she can't even tell you her favourite food, none of the people who labored so intensely and sincerely to bring her back bothered to write down even her most basic personal preferences when they reconstructed her. she has to deflect the question with "when I think of the people who make the food I can't pick just one" because the only preference she's allowed is loving all her people equally. she's completely thrown off that wuk lamat would even ask.
and it's precisely because she is remembered only as this kind loving woman who gave everything for her people that she is weak and powerless to actually do whatever it takes to keep them safe. she does not have the freedom to assert herself, let alone to be cruel or violent or take extreme actions. society does not give her that freedom, because she is a small dainty woman and (therefore) the only role allowed to her is to be their tradwife mother. so while her desire to protect her people is as real and true as it can be part of her plan to lobotomise herself in order to become someone capable of violence and cruelty also reads to me as that specific female frustration of wanting to destroy the sweet babygirl image of yourself by doing something extreme. like britney spears shaving her head. but in sphene's case destroying the babygirl image amounts to destroying herself completely, because the babygirl image of her is all that comprises her. and so when all is said and done the only fragment of sphene that is restored and lingers just a bit longer after that image is destroyed is the sphene that wuk lamat sincerely wanted to get to know.
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sideysvault · 6 months ago
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ೀ。˚ Patching Deadpool up years after he left you ೀ⋆。˚
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Pairing: Wade Wilson x fem!reader
Part two here
Wordcount: 2,9k
Tags: Canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending.
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The rusty silver plate read in an almost playful manner “The sisters Margaret home for wayward children”. It was a colorful name, and it belonged to a not so colorful bar. That was the place where the two of you had met.
Back then, you were nothing more than a student.  Constantly struggling to manage the very limited funding given to you. All you wanted was to finish your thesis, get your master’s degree, and make it to the end of the month. Your paychecks had cornered you into the only half decent apartment you could rent: The one built in the shittiest neighborhood in town, in a building held up solely by divine grace and poor construction.
That particular night was the end of an extremely rough week. Work piled up, homesickness struck you every time you had a chance to relax and think, and you were the living proof that nobody could make any meaningful connections if you only strictly went to work and home with no rest in between.
And for Christ’s sake, you hated to admit it, but you really missed home and the crippling suspicion that you were close to breaking down was settling in.
The only logical next step you could take popped into your head just as you were walking into your neighborhood. You needed to blow off some steam. Have a drink. Or two. Or three. So, your steps seemingly redirected themselves towards that ugly bar that was close to your uglier apartment. Sure, it seemed super sketchy. But right this second, all you needed was to get a drink.
Wade was in that bar too. As he usually was. He immediately took notice of the woman who seemed clearly out of place. You looked like some kind of stuck up librarian. And it was obvious that your mood was extraordinarily dispirited. Sitting there staring at the wall with a piercing stare. Paying no mind to the environment you were in. Furrowed eyebrows adorned your face seemed concerned. Before Wade even realized what he was doing, he found himself striking a conversation with you.
He tried to reason with himself. There were no ulterior motives, no meaning behind his accretion. Wade has always had a soft spot for damsels in distress. And you were hot as fuck. Nothing else.
“What's a nice place like you doing in a girl like this?”
Strangely, that's all it took to make you laugh. The absurdity of the corny comment immediately got to you and a loud burst of laughter came out of your mouth. Wade's face softened with a certain sense of pride when he saw he could make you laugh.
The stuck up girl with a stick up on her ass had just let out not a forced and polite giggle, but an all teeth and gums type of laugh.
The poorly dim light in the bar did not stop him from trying to take all your features in. And a sense of warmth began to surface under his skin. He was the one who made your night better.
Ever since the event, you would visit that horrid place regularly. Only to see the charming guy who would make you laugh. Your little hangouts quickly evolved into something more. A friendship of sorts. He would walk you home when you stayed late working. “To protect you from all the homicidal freaks”. Wade would take you on private tours around the city, so its streets wouldn't feel so foreign to you. He could notice that you genuinely had a great time whenever he was around. And that was all he needed to keep showing up.
One late night, laughter turned into teasing, which transformed to kissing, which later turned into a hookup that evolved into having sex on a regular basis and going out routinely. Wade and you couldn't be more different, it was true. But it seemed to be the key to your relationship. You guys clicked together, balancing each other out.
The insidious realization came to you on a random afternoon. You were in love with Wade Wilson. And he probably felt the same for you.
As cruel as life is, something terrible happened. Just as things were getting serious between the two of you, on one cursed night, he just decided to pick up all of his things from your apartment and leave. All Wade left behind was a tiny note stating that he had terminal cancer and that he loved you. With a little doodle of a heart with crossed out eyes and a tongue sticking out of its mouth.
You were out doing research the first time he fainted. A full-time professor had the kindness to name you as a co-author in an important research paper that was being published in some big shot magazine. Wade felt extremely proud of you. On some late nights he couldn't believe that a woman like you could be head over heels a low stakes hit-man.
The decision felt simple at the time. He ran straight to the clinic and never told you about the incident. Wondering why he would bother you with something that was probably nothing. On that day, in a confined room with sterile air, with its gray walls and the constant sound of the old air conditioner, that’s where the doctor hit him with the whole terminal cancer ordeal. Wade knew you would automatically make a billion plans and extensive research. He knew you'd stay with him all the way through the end. Even if it affected your career, even if it would wreck you emotionally, even if your routine together was reduced to a mere nurse-client relationship, you would stay with him all the way. That was the reason he had fallen in love with you after all.
So, he made a choice. Albeit, one that was a little less simple. He was leaving before tarnishing your life, your memory of him and your time together with his sickness. He couldn't do that to you. The woman who actually had goals. And a shot for a promising future. If he told you about the situation, Wade was certain that he wouldn't have the heart to say no to you. He would stay. And you'd forever remember him as a lost puppy who you loved but had to put down mercifully.
The other option was to be the asshole who left. But he could live on your memory forever. As the person he once was. So that was that.
━━━━━━━━━
You decided to take a shortcut to your newly renovated home. You were wearing your favorite heels today. And they really weren't walking shoes. Brand new, stiff, and ridiculously blue. The scrappy and dark alleyway was well illuminated, and it would take you directly into the street your building was in. After weighing the options, you decided it was safe enough to make a run for it.
The loud noises that you increasingly heard coming from the dumpster worried you. The dumpster was located just before being able to get out of that creepy lane, and you tried to stop the flux of thoughts about homicidal maniacs that suddenly plagued your mind. But, the thought of injured animals that people abandoned on the street came to you as well. Getting closer, hearing the early sound of the echoed of your shoes against the cement, you tried to swallow your fear. Something in there could really need a vet.
But there was a mutilated man wearing a red suit. You instinctively froze and began to step back, the scene was so gruesome that you were sure you would puke on the body and ruin the DNA evidence. Just as you were typing the emergency number on your phone you heard that voice.
“Bad Deadpool” it mumbled. You heard some nonsensical phrases before you could make out a “Fuck. That was, like, my favorite arm”
Your heart began to pound so strongly you could practically feel it on your ears.
He hadn't noticed you yet, continuing to lose a shit ton of blood and trying to balance himself upward without the missing limbs and several shot wounds.
Not without a second thought, you ran to help him stand up. As soon as he felt your firm touch, he turned around violently, holding a defensive position. But the man in the red suit stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were the one holding him.
This was not the neighborhood you used to live in.
You sighed at the sight and quickly took him back to your apartment. You knew it was him. Not only that, but you were sure of it. The lame jokes had given it away. And that voice had haunted you for a long time. You'd recognize him anywhere. His remaining arm felt the same, the inflections of his tired voice sounded the same, and the shock he’d felt at seeing you was indisputable belonging to him.  You had heard rumors about the red suit. But never wondered who could be behind the mask. Wade was supposed to be dead by now, anyway.
Wade, on the other hand, was focusing on not making a sound. He really hoped breaking your heart had left you clinically insane. Insane enough to rescue random mutilated men off the street.
As soon as you entered the apartment it became tainted with carnage. A trail of crimson red adorned your freshly painted white snow walls. Little chunks of skin would occasionally fall. Accompanying the already gruesome blood. Your heels had been lost somewhere along the way and with great effort you had managed to throw him into a bed that he wasn't yet familiar with.
Fuck it. As if losing an arm and a leg wasn't enough. This was breathtakingly fucked.
The shock left your body as soon as you saw your not-dead ex-boyfriend mutilated on your bed. And shock was the only thing keeping you together.
By that moment he was certain you knew it was him. Your eyes began to tear up at the sight of his wounded body, your cheeks were trembling with fear, or disgust, or a combination of both. Before he could try to get up, a pool of blood came shooting out of his mouth without warning. Some of it must have filtered through the mask because you somehow looked more terrified than before. He felt dizzy. And before Wade could do anything about it, you took out his mask on a whim to try to avoid him choking on his own blood. And that was it. All that pain, all the abandonment, the secrecy. It all meant nothing now. You had seen his face.
You were definitely taken aback. And he felt his heart break a little when you instinctively removed her hand from his face. You swallowed with difficulty, shook your head and got up. There were more pressing matters at hand. You had heard things about the vigilante regenerating. But you weren't taking any chances. Not with Wade. Never again.
It didn't matter how fucked up he looked now. He took the opportunity of you leaving the room to put his mask back on as quickly as he could. As he was trying to process everything that had just happened, through the door he could see your crying face moving up and down around the apartment. And there you were. Carrying it all into the bedroom.
It was a massive, fancy emergency kit that you had saved up for back in the day. When he was still beating bad guys for money and living with you. You had kept it all this time. And it was still perfectly stocked.
Wade couldn't lift his gaze to meet yours. But he noticed that you seemed relatively unfazed by his new face now. Or by the fact that you had seen him lacking two limbs and with some extra holes. The tears had stopped, but the mortifying look on your face never left. You always knew what he did for a living, you weren’t stupid. But he had always managed to keep it out of home. Or at least he tried to. Never to this extent. You weren't really used to it.
After all he had faced, he thought he did not need any care anymore. Just his healing, getting high and his unicorn. After all, his body would mend all the damage he had done to it and grow itself back together. But it still hurts. And you still tried to make it better. You begin to patch him up as best as you can, taking your time disinfecting, sewing, and fixing him. He knew you well enough to be absolutely certain that you were trying not to gag at the sight of the wounds. And he appreciated your efforts.
When you finished, you softly traced your fingernails on his bandages. He was too tired to talk. And you were still too shocked. How the fuck is he still alive after those injuries? What had happened to him after all these years?
Without saying a word you got up and went straight to the kitchen. You returned after some time, with his favorite tea, soup, and all the analgesics you could find. Your kindness gave him courage to stop being such a weak pussy and actually try to talk to you. You had seen him. Even if you wouldn't want anything to do anymore, the worst had passed.
“So… Sorry about your walls. Didn't know you had a fancy place now. I would've totally died in another alleyway, I promise. And, sorry, for-uhm, you know. The character shattering abandonment”
He coughed some blood. You just furrowed your eyebrows and as slowly as you could, so he could actually stop you this time if that was what he wanted, you removed his mask again. Your eyes pierced him with earnest intensity.
“You are a fucking asshole. And I fucking hate you. And I'm so glad you are alive”
"I know, I know, baby. And thank you for going all Mother Teresa on me. Well, wrong comparison. But, yeah. I'll be okay in no time. It's hard to explain right now. But, I will do right by you and paint your walls bright white when my leg and everything grows back! Pinky promise. I'll also buy you new shoes. It's kinda gross that you are footless. Or, well, it could be h-”
“Oh my lord, Wade. Just shut up and get some rest. Eat when you feel better. And scream if you need something”
And just when you were about to leave the room he softly said “Hey. I'm sorry. I-, I didn't want to bring you onto the whole cancer show. I was going to fix myself and come back. And then everything got fucked. I couldn't let you see me like this. Understand that. I'm a monster now. Inside out. I would have never left if there had been a way of staying without ruining your life”
You just looked at him for a long moment. Tears began to appear in your eyes, threatening to come out again. As soon as he saw your face, he immediately tried to lighten up the mood. “Hey, how long have you been obsessed with me?
Still keeping that old thing?” He said as he gestured at the now empty emergency kit.
He didn't have the heart to explain to you that it was a waste in him.
Saying nothing in response to Wade's dumb joke, you just rolled your eyes. Hearing him talk that way about himself hurt your soul. You couldn't help yourself anymore, so you walked towards the injured man with tears running down your face. You sat down on a chair beside the bed and rested your head on his lap.
He called your name softly “there's no need to cry. I know I belong to a fucking circus, but this is getting a little offensive" Wade finally got a chuckle out of you. You smile at him and wipe out your tears. Wade winces slightly when you tenderly leave a kiss on his forehead. He feels ashamed of the tact his ruined skin probably had left on your soft lips. It has truly been so long. You notice how he reacts. So you put your hands around his face and gently kiss each of his cheeks, and then the bridge of his nose. As softly as you can.
"I'll go now before you make some lame Greek kiss joke. Get some rest. We'll talk in the morning. I know you are sorry.” With a more serious voice, you added.
“Just no more running away in the middle of the night. Okay?”
Wade softens. He really missed you. As much as he liked Al's old ass, his true home was with you. Even after all these years. Even after what he did to you. Even with how he looked. Wade was certain he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in years. He was safe now.
“Never again. I promise. I'll do right by you. Okay? We'll be friends with a ton of disgusting unexplored sexual tension in no time and who knows where that could lead to”
You laughed again. And there it was. His favorite sound in the world. It sounded just like the first time he heard it all those years ago.
"By the way, you do owe me those heels. And white walls. You pinky promised it. Oh, and you also owe me the biggest fucking explanation of the century.”
“Sounds like a start to me”
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Notes: OMG my first big one! I’m excited to post this. I hope it makes sense, if it doesn’t, feedback is always welcomed! -Sidey xxo
[Edited on October 2024! This was poorly written and I was fully proud of it 😭 shoutout to @nikkiwho, who I fixed this fit for] btw, I’m working on your request for part two even if it’s been a while! Hope you like it.
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andrew-03-minyard · 5 months ago
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yall can hate seth all you want but I'm rereading aftg and he's low-key so adorable. whatever his red flags are, I'm willing to ignore them for the sole reason that he will fight kevin no matter the reason, no matter the time😭😭 like he doesn't even like neil like that, he thinks neil is underqualified and a horrible sub for him, but as soon as Kevin knocked on the door, he was ready to fight him no matter the consequences. kid rolled out of bed with violence as his motivation. whether its because he likes neil or will fight kevin regardless of the occasion, I respect him in a way
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4zayne · 1 year ago
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where's my reward? | wriothesley x reader
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ᡴꪫ summary: wriothesley comes to you, his biggest cheerleader, after winning his 5th boxing match this week. he expects a reward for his hard work and who are you to deny him? pairing: boxer!wriothesley x fem!reader warnings: smut, praise kink (wrio), pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl), p in v, porn with plot, breeding kink, implied pregnancy
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wriothesley was in the ring, throwing punches to the face and gut of his opponent, almost rarely receiving them from the other end. one uppercut and left jab from the duke left his combatant on the floor gasping for air, covered in bruises and a bloody nose. cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd around the arena as wriothesley was deemed the winner, or champion rather, which happened almost every time. as he held the belt given to him, showing off his well-earned prize off to the crowd, he spotted you just a few feet away from the rink screaming his name and cheering for him. seeing you apart of the crowd, his number one fan, it was his sole reason to keep on going in his boxing career. you are his motivation.
a few interviews and photograph signing later, he was completely spent. all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and head on home. so once he saw you waiting for him in his personal dressing room, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck. you smiled warmly, "hi mr. champion," you spoke, turning your head to press a kiss onto his cheek. man was he happy to hear your sweet voice. "mm. hey," he pressed soft kisses against your neck, fingers messing with the bottom of your shirt. "you did great out there, wrio," you caressed his forearm with the pad of your thumb, the both of you swaying side to side. "thanks baby, couldn't have done it without you," and it was true, if he didn't have you, he wouldn't have made it this far. he wouldn't have been one of the top 3 best boxers in the world.
having you in his arms never got old. he loved feeling your body against his big, bulky frame. remember how spent he was earlier? well, not so much anymore. with you in front of him, looking all pretty in those tight leggings and compression long sleeve shirt with his name on the back that hugged your figure oh so nicely, you can feel his growing bulge against your ass. "i figured you'd be tired after such a long match, but i suppose not?" he chuckled against your shoulder, looking at you through the vanity mirror in front of you both. "well, i was. but then i thought about how i won and.." you raised your eyebrow, not really knowing where he was going with this. "and what?" you could feel him smirk against your skin, his deep gaze on your body and your pretty lips.
"where's my reward?"
".. reward?" you repeated, still confused for a moment before realizing what he meant by 'reward'. "shouldn't i be rewarded for winning today's match and for all my hard work?" a laugh left your lips, turning your body to look at him fully. "oh why yes, of course," you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, a grin spread across your lips. "what would be a good enough reward for you, hm?" wriothesley hummed, ocean blue hues glued to your lips as he came up with an idea. "well, i think this pretty girl in front of me would make a pretty good reward. don't you think?" your cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, getting a bit embarrassed by his words but you pull him closer, your lips just a mere centimeters apart. "then you can have this reward you speak of in any way you want. how's that sound?" your tone was gentle, alluring. a deep chuckle left his lips, his smirk only widening, "sounds perfect," his lips crashed against yours eagerly, hands already finding purchase on your ass.
his leg found its way in between your legs, knee pressing right up against your clothed cunt. you could feel him smiling against your lips, a whimper being pulled out of you from the friction his knee gave you. your panties were already ruined, your slick creating a wet patch on them as well as your leggings. "w—wrio.." you mumbled in the kiss, his tongue finding the opportunity to flood your mouth, dancing against yours in a coinciding rhythm. he tugged on your bottom lip, a fervorous growl leaving his lips. "fuck, you're already so wet for me.. and i barely did anything to you," his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. he wanted to bed you over and fuck you right then and there with no hesitation, but he needed to hold back. just for a while longer.
his head dipped down to your neck, his lips sucking light red marks onto your soft skin that would soon darken in due time. his canines spent no time in leaving their own mark on you, biting down with ease, but not hard enough to cause you any pain but a slight sting. the duke's hips rutted against the fat of your ass, his painfully hardened cock grinding against you with a kind of desperation you knew very well. however, you gathered his attention by cupping his cheeks with your small palms, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "wait.. let me," you retracted your hands, slowly lowering down to your knees, face to face with the bulge portruding through his shorts, "reward you."
wriothesley's cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson that stretched to the tips of his ears, watching you get down on your knees for him. he licked his lips at the sight of you, his expression contorted with lust and need. "by all means, please," a little grin spread comfortably across your lips, pulling down his shorts and underwear in one swift motion, watching his cock spring out excitedly. a content sigh left your boyfriends lips, finally feeling relieved from the confines of his clothing. you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking at a teasingly slow pace that made him grunt. you took your time with him, wanting him to savor every small motion you made as you kept eye contact with him the whole time. after a few slow strokes, you sank your mouth down onto him, absolutely reveling in the way the all time champion shakily groaned.
"oh— fuuck— , that's it.." he placed his hand on top of your head, biting his lower lip at the feeling of your warm mouth around his girth. you swirled your tongue around his cock skillfully, tracing the thick vein all the way down to the base, the dark hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose. he admired how talented you were at sucking his dick, and that tongue of yours — the way it prodded at his slit before taking him back into your mouth with hallowed cheeks — it drove him crazy beyond words. those lewd noises of you choking on his cock was almost enough to bring him to the brink of release, tasting the pre that leaked from his tip as you held onto his thighs for support.
his dick twitched against your tongue, letting you know he was getting close. "baby, mph— i'm close.. gonna cum in your pretty mouth, okay?" you nodded your head in response, your movements picking up pace as you sucking his cock faster, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. you were growing needy yourself, one of your hands reaching down to rub your cunt through your leggings. your muffled moans sent vibrations against his shaft, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was in your throat. at this rate he was panting like an animal in heat, desperate for release so he can hurry up and fill your pussy with his seed next. he placed his other hand on your head, using both of his hands to eagerly fuck his cock into your throat. tears fell down your cheeks from his tip reaching the depths of your mouth. "feels so good baby, shit.. i—i'm gonna—"
one, two, and three more thrusts had him leaning his head back with a drawn out moan, shooting his cum down your throat just like he said he would. you gripped onto his thigh tighter, not letting a single drop of his release go to waste. you swallowed every last bit of his cum, ignoring the salty and bitter aftertaste. "that's a good girl," he stroked your hair with a proud grin on his face, taking his still very much hard shaft out of your mouth. you stood up on your feet, wriothelsey immediately turning you around and bending you over the vanity while he tucked his face in the crook of your neck. "need to be inside you, please.. i need to fuck you, baby," you let out a giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips with a alluring smile, "go ahead, wrio.. this is your reward after all, right?" your voice was sweet like honey, yet had a hint of spice to it that sent your black haired boyfriend over the edge.
he spent no time in pulling your leggings and panties down to your ankles and disregarding them completely, just aching to be inside you already. he turned your face towards him by your chin, kissing you hungrily as two of his fingers rubbed circles around your clit. your moans were music to his ears, sending blood streaming straight to his throbbing cock. he gave his shaft a few strokes before pressing his tip against your hole that clenched around nothing, dying to be filled up by your champion of a lover. "gonna put in inside you now, okay?" you hummed, feeling his fat tip ease itself inside of you, sending a stinging sensation through your body. wriothesley was by no means small; he was quite literally big. so as he pushed his massive girth entirely inside you, you gasped at the sudden stretch, beginning to adjust to it.
"you alright, angel? did it hurt?" you loved how sweet he was, how much he wanted to make sure you were okay. that was just how he is, not wanting to hurt you at all. you shook your head, "i—i'm okay, wrio.. just hurry up..," you could hear him scoff, sliding out of you and bottoming out again into your cunt, ripping a moan out of you. "someones impatient, huh?" you nudged him softly leaning your head back on his shoulder as he slowly began to move his hips. "you're— mmf.. s—shit.. one to talk," your voice was shaky, covering your mouth to repress any further noises from reaching anywhere out of the room you both were in. "yeah, i suppose you're right," wriothesley's thrusts became more frequent, biting your lip at the pleasure of his cock in your greedy cunt.
he pressed soft kisses over the marks he left on you earlier, balls deep inside you with his pace quickening with each passing second. it felt like heaven inside of you, feeling your pussy grip onto his thick cock as he took hold of your jaw, turning your attention to the mirror in front of you. "want you to watch me fuck you, watch me earn this pretty reward," he bullied his length into your dripping cunt, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. the pleasure took over your body completely, your vision going white as his tip repeatedly kissed that sweet spongey spot that made you see stars. you uncovered your mouth, drool sneaking passed the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin.
you loved the way wriothesley fucked you, it was filled with love and lust even if it was rough at the same time. you can tell his movements were sturdy and skilled with the way his hips thrusted his cock deep within your womb, heat rising throughout your whole body. "you did so g—good today wrio, 'm so proud of you!" and you really were, you were so so proud of him. and even though you meant that in a totally innocent way, it set something off inside of the man fucking you from behind. he cursed under his breath, his dick somehow getting bigger inside of you. "w—wrio? you—"
"say it again. tell me how proud you are of me."
you didn't think he'd be the type of person so be into being praised, let alone get aroused by it. but you didn't mind at all, because you truly were extremely proud of him. you know how hard he worked to get where he is now. "i—i'm so so proud of you wrio, y—you did so good out there!" he chuckled to himself, his thrusts becoming more erratic and his heavy breaths turning into feral growls. he loved when you praised him, told him how good he did during his matches. he was an all-time winner, all because of you. and because of his hard work, but mainly you. "ngh.. f—fuck baby, it's all 'cause of you," his thrusts remotely became erratic, unable to stop the reckless pace of his hips slapping against your ass.
your back arched dangerously, allowing your boxing champion to sink his cock deeper within your walls, abusing your cervix in a way that had your legs trembling. wriothesley caught sight of your wavering legs, an idea forming inside that mischievous head of his. without warning, he lifted you up by your thighs, holding them with a fierce grip in his large hands. he fucked up into your pussy harshly, a gravelly groan leaving him as he did so. you could see his cock slip in and out of you through the mirror, watching him split you open with his girthy shaft. "w—wrio! too d—deep!" your moans only got louder, almost positive people from outside the room could hear what you both were up to. "shit, princess, look at you..," he latched his teeth onto your shoulder, wanting to mark you up as much as possible.
"fuck.. i'm gonna cum soon," his thrusts had gotten sloppy, pace faltering too, feeling his cock twitch eagerly against your gummy insides. "i—inside.. c—cum inside wrio.." your expression was all fucked out; mouth agape, tongue lolled out, practically begging him to empty his load into your womb. those words had only turned him on even more, a chuckle leaving him, "well shit, baby, gladly," his pace picked up instantly, his grip on your thighs now deadly as he pounded into you from below. you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, feeling that heat build up in the pit of your stomach. "c—cumming! i'm cumming—!" it didn't take long for that coil to unravel, squirting all over his cock, your juices coating the mirror in front of you. wriothesley was on the verge of cumming too once feeling your pussy pulse around him, sending blood rushing throughout his body.
a few more thrusts against your g-spot had him spilling his warm cum inside of you, a deep, shaky moan erupting from your boyfriend. you both took a minute to catch your breaths, you clearly losing all feeling in your lower body. he set you down on the vanity, grabbing your panties from the ground and slipping them up halfway. "wrio..?" you looked at him, only to be met with his scheming gaze. he watched as his cum seeped out of your gaping hole, using two digits to scoop his seed back up and push it inside of you. until then, that's when he slipped your panties up all the way. a wave of heat coated your cheeks letting out a content scoff. "can't let it go to waste now, can we?" you rolled your eyes at his comment, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "hmm, i guess not."
after getting you all dressed, himself included — him only having to zip up his pants and whatnot — he leaned closely into your ear, placing his hand over your tummy, giving it slow rubs. "after all, i don't mind having another cheerleader to cheer me on," he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you slow and passionately before continuing, "that would be a pretty amazing reward, no?"
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© 4zayne do not reuse, steal or translate.
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chuulyssa · 10 months ago
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​​🇸​​ 🇵 ​​🇦 ​​🇳 ​​🇰​​ !
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BSD MEN REACTING TO YOU SPANKING THEM.
↷ A/N ─ as usual please leave likes and reblogs to show support :D i love spoiling you guys !! now please tell me to go study i need some motivation :(
★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , fyodor
!! TAGS ─ spanking, mentions of smut
MATURE THEMES, 16+, MENTIONS OF AND IMPLIED SMUT
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*spanks*
ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.
momentarily surprised but quickly recovers
smiles and turns to you
it's like you just gave him a treat :D you can almost see his tail wagging as if he's a dog (he hates dogs btw grrr)
he believes that you spanking his ass gives HIM permission to do the same to YOU :( how mean of him
so he catches you off guard by spanking your ass
and you two end up chasing each other down to take turns spanking each other. whoever loses does the dishes tonight
"You've been very good today; you even completed your punishment for provoking me," he says, engulfing you in a cuddle after you returned from doing the dishes.
ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.
chokes on air this time (yes chuuya chokes in every single scenario of mine but he's the one choking you at night so its ok !! :D)
he's surprised because wtf?? he's the one supposed to be doing that conventionally????
defo spanks you back but tries to be as soft as possible because he's a gentleman
i think this is already an hc but he's an ass guy so once you've spanked him don't think he's gonna leave u at all
i did say his spanks are gonna be as soft as he can make them be but i never said how many 🤪😇
"Count," he hisses. It's midnight, and you're at his mercy. After his long and hard day at work, he needs something to relieve his stress.
ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.
stops your hand mid-air because duh he already knew about what you were gonna do
twists and turns and ends up holding your ass and squeezing it
all the while you're like wtf is wrong with you
his eyes make it look like he's enjoying it sm :( such a kitty cat
im still mad they didn't give us a whole separate scene for his ass :< anyone who's read the manga, any pics you wanna share? 👁
"You need to buy me extra candy for putting up with your stupidity," he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek.
ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.
his reflexes immediately act and you see rashomon from the back of his coat
but then he realizes its you...
and he FLUSHES. YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THIS MAN BLUSH
well now you have :D his poor virgin ass
not a virgin anymore once he started dating you u horny ass mf /lh
he has literally no idea how to reply to that
he just shrugs cluelessly
"I guess I should return the favour?" he tries to sound confident but ends up delivering the lightest, most gentle spank. He doesn't want to hurt you. He loves you.
ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.
DISGUSTED™
one, because he's another virgin (virgin slander less gaurr 💪🏻 even tho im one myself; its the self burn guys !!)
and two, for the last time STOP. MESSING. WITH. HIS. RELIGIOUS. SELF.
you're SATAN in his eyes, trying to distract him and make him sin (as if he isn't a murderer and a terrorist cough cough)
if we're being delusional enough he'll leave the room with a faint pink on his cheeks 🤡
definitely returns the favour at night 🤭🤭 (only if you're married tho!!)
"My sole undivided attention is all yours now," he hits your ass again. "Anything to say? Hm? Why not? You were all for giggling at my face today. What's wrong now?"
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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
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