#WELL HELLO THERE [VISAGE]

[possession1981-moving]

💖

[ruinlost]

The Sun

             The Moon 

                             and the Stars : @erabundus​ & @ruinlost​

[catfcng]

mike tags

🐾 - ( interaction ) . mike - *i’m here to win. that prize … it’s mine!

🐾 - ( visage ) . mike - *cheated? cheated?! oh ; I am offended!

🐾 - ( aesthetic ) .  mike - *i happened to have studied in the lincoln school of music!

🐾 - ( desires ) .  mike - *well ; well ; well … hello again.

🐾 - ( canons ) . mike - *oh ; for crying out loud!

[impuls1veworm]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

˚₊ ⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆ ₊˚ Prompt: typical jealous ex-husband behavior.

"Go ahead, ask for her number," came a teasing voicing from behind her; one (y/n) knew all too well. The arrogant yet handsome visage of her ex-husband came into view. Despite it being 6 months since (y/n) has last seen him, he still looked the same as the day they finalized the divorce. Hair neatly styled, suit fitted perfectly, and a calm demeanor. (Y/N) hated to admit it, but he looked good.

The poor waiter was caught off guard by the request, choosing instead to fall silent. (Y/N) looked away from her ex-husband to address the waiter, "ignore him, ple—"

"No, ask for her number. She'll give it to you," his stern, yet amused tone interjected. (Y/N) couldn't help the irritated breath of air she let out through her nose. The waiter, unsure, yet not wanting to cause a further scene, hesitantly asked for (y/n)'s number. (Y/N) grabbed a pen from her purse and hurriedly scribbled her number on the napkin beside her plate.

Her ex watched over her shoulder as she wrote the number, turning to giving the waiter a pleased smile, "don't worry, that's really her number." (Y/N) handed the waiter the napkin and sent him on his way. Her ex watched the man walk away before turning back to (Y/N). Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leaned down, his lips gently brushing her ear, "front door. 10 minutes."

(Y/N) made herself comfortable in the living room she once considered her own. Her ex-husband stood in front of her, peering down at her with an unreadable look on his face. (Y/N) was about to question why her ex-husband insisted she came back to their old home when her phone began to light up. (Y/N) looked at her phone to see an unknown number calling.

The waiter.

"Answer it," came the demanding tone of her ex. Still, (Y/N) lingered above the green button, unsure of if it was the right move. Impatiently, he grabbed the phone from her hand and answered it for her. As the waiter's hello's filtered through the speaker, her ex flung the phone onto the couch beside (Y/N). Leaning down to capture her lips in a heated kiss, the other man's voice was quickly drowned out by sighs of pleasure.

Ran, Mikey, Sanzu, Taiju, Takeomi, Izana, Kazutora, Baji, and Chifuyu — TokyoRev

Gojo, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna — Jujutsu Kaisen

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

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Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on. 

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you. 

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window. 

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap. 

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor. 

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair. 

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?” 

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…” 

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him. 

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.” 

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper. 

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist. 

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase. 

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more. 

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in. 

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower. 

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?” 

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed. 

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?” 

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you. 

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation. 

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt. 

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them. 

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard. 

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.” 

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet. 

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past. 

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night. 

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet. 

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth. 

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him. 

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair. 

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth. 

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded. 

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip. 

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night. 

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were. 

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath. 

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move. 

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him. 

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts. 

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were. 

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you. 

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase. 

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt. 

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close. 

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric. 

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl. 

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently. 

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth. 

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole. 

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind. 

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just­­–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?” 

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [18]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 17 | Fic Masterlist | Part 19

Despite the blurring of his vision, Seonghwa desperately stumbled towards the entrance of his estate. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. If anyone noticed his severe wound, it would only be a matter of time before you found out too.

That was the last thing he wanted.

He had tried so hard to hide his injury from you, not wanting to cause you any more worry. Perhaps having Yeosang pursuing you wasn't such a bad thing after all. Unlike the general, the prince wouldn't have to leave for war and risk his life. His Highness also wouldn't have the burden of blood on his hands or the constant fear he instilled in you.

Most importantly, the fourth prince wasn't on the brink of death, bleeding out at this very moment. Prince Yeosang could consistently remain by your side, offering a life even more luxurious than this. Though it pained him to think about leaving you to another man's care, Seonghwa convinced himself that this was all for the best.

His gaze locked on his horse, still waiting by the entrance, servants tending to it. He was determined to ride back to the warzone, if he could survive the journey—or anywhere else, for that matter. He understood that you wouldn't be able to bear seeing him in such a state, regardless of the cruel words he'd uttered just moments ago.

That was the kind of angel you were.

From the beginning, he recognised your heart of gold. It was what endeared you to him so deeply; you were unique in that way. Despite the torture your family had subjected you to, he knew you would never wish ill upon them regardless.

This was all the more reason he couldn't allow you to discover his injury. He knew without a doubt that your heart would soften instantly and forgive him for all he had done. He couldn't afford that; he needed you to despise him. Only then would his absence hurt less, and perhaps, it would steer you toward the prince. You deserved far better than anything he could offer. Despite facing his own mortality, nothing frightened him more than the uncertainty of your well-being in the world he was about to depart from, leaving you behind.

"Master, are you departing so soon?" The servant, looking after the horse, was taken aback by his master's abrupt decision to leave. Everyone had anticipated him staying at least a day to resolve matters with the mistress and spend some time together before returning to the war site.

Seonghwa nodded, striving to maintain his composure, "Yes, assist me onto the horse. I'm needed back at the warzone."

Observing the general's slightly pale and sweaty visage, the servant refrained from commenting on it for fear of angering him. Instead, he bowed, "Of course, master."

But before your husband could even mount his horse, the last person he wanted to encounter at that moment called out to him from behind, "Yah, Park Seonghwa! How dare you try and leave without even saying hello?" He froze at Hongjoong's loud voice, a shiver of apprehension running through him as he glanced back to see his old friend, accompanied by Wooyoung, approaching, "Sir, are you really leaving already?"

Goddamnit, so close.

Meanwhile, across the estate, Yunho and Jongho hurried towards the House of Lotus, only to discover you all alone and heartbroken on the ground. The assistant gasped, rushing to help you up, "Mistress! Are you alright? Where's the general?"

Gazing up at him with tears streaking your cheeks, your heart ached at the mention of Seonghwa. Noticing the physician beside Jongho, eyes darting around urgently, you frowned in confusion, "He left not long ago... What's happening? What's wrong?"

You had remained motionless since your husband's departure, sprawled on the ground with tears streaming down your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden change in his behaviour. Why was he treating you like this? Could there be any truth to his harsh words? Had he already grown tired of you? Just when you thought your anguish couldn't intensify, the anxiety evident on the assistant's and doctor's faces only heightened your dread.

"He left?! I'm sorry, mistress! There's no time to explain. Here, read this, and you'll understand." Jongho exclaimed urgently. Yunho dashed out as soon as he heard your words, prompting the younger man to swiftly shove a crumpled piece of paper into your hands before hurrying after the physician.

As you hastily wiped your tears, your trembling fingers unfolded the crumpled paper to reveal a letter from General Officer Song Mingi addressed to the doctor. Your heart sank to your stomach as you read the hurriedly written words.

'Physician Jung, I hope this letter finds you swiftly, for it bears urgent news concerning General Park. In the recent battle with the enemy forces, he sustained a grave injury inflicted by a weapon laced with viper venom. Upon discovering the nature of the toxin, we immediately recognised the severity of the situation. The venom acts swiftly and ruthlessly, spreading its deadly effects throughout the body if not treated promptly. Time is of the essence. I implore you to attend to the general without delay.'

Letting out a shaky exhale, the letter slipped from your trembling fingers and fell to the ground, the weight of its contents settling heavily in your chest. Every word echoed in your mind, painting a vivid picture of Seonghwa's dire situation. It felt as if the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, revealing a truth you hadn't dared to consider before. Had he been in immense pain this entire time?

The thought sent a chill down your spine.

Was it possible that your husband's sudden shift in behaviour, his departure, and harsh words, were all a desperate attempt to protect you from the truth? Was he afraid to burden you with the knowledge of his injury, to face your worry and concern?

Park Seonghwa, you bloody idiot.

Your heart ached at the possibility. Despite the hurtful words he said to you, a wave of empathy washed over you, mingling with the fear and uncertainty swirling within.

With determination fueling every step, you left your quarters in search of the general, resolved to stand by him regardless of the obstacles ahead. Your love for him was unwavering, and you were prepared to fight for him with every fibre of your being. He was mistaken if he thought his attempts to push you away would succeed. You refused to leave his side without a fight.

As you arrived in the main courtyard, your heart lurched at the sight before you. Jongho and Wooyoung were scrambling to hold up your husband, who appeared unconscious, while Hongjoong and Yunho guided them past you, heading towards what you presumed to be Seonghwa's private quarters. Their apologetic glances only added to your distress as you stepped aside to let them pass, your eyes growing wet at the sight of his pale and weakened appearance—something you had never witnessed before.

A wave of fear washed over you as you watched him being ushered away, threatening to consume you whole. The possibility of losing him suddenly felt all too real, and you couldn't bear the thought of a world without him in it.

Regret flooded your mind as you chastised yourself for not being more perceptive to his suffering earlier. How could you have let your emotions cloud your judgement? How could you have missed the signs that he was in such pain? You should have known, should have realised that he was going through something. You should have known that there must have been a good reason for his actions, for his attempts to push you away.

Deep down, you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him, and there had to be a greater purpose behind his actions. All you could do now was have faith in his love and pray for his recovery.

The head maid rushed to your side, her face etched with concern, as she gently steadied you by holding onto your shoulders. You hadn't realised you were swaying until then, your head buried in your hands, "Come, mistress," She said softly, "Let's return to the House of Lotus and wait for good news. The master is in capable hands with Physician Jung. Everything will be alright."

You shook your head, voicing your protest, "But Eunsook, I need to be close to him—"

She smiled gently, squeezing your hands, "I know you do. But you wouldn't want to get in the way, would you? Let the others handle things for now, alright? Master will be just fine; he's much stronger than you think."

With a heavy sigh, you finally nodded in defeat and allowed her to guide you back to your quarters, realising she was right. You wouldn't be of any help to the guys, and it was better to stay out of their way while they worked to treat him at this critical moment.

Please, Yunho. I'm counting on you.

"Jongho, I need you to gather as much echinacea herb as possible from around town. It's the most effective plant for treating venom and relieving pain." The doctor urgently ordered, focusing on removing the layers of clothing from the general.

The assistant bowed, "Yes, Physician Jung!" before swiftly departing with Wooyoung, who had volunteered to assist.

Hongjoong stayed behind to help out, though he struggled to conceal his worry. His hands trembled as he observed the blood staining Seonghwa's clothes and noted the general's pale complexion as he lay almost lifelessly on the bed.

Noticing the dressmaker's distress, Yunho attempted to divert his attention, "So, where's the mistress?"

Clearing his throat to dispel the growing lump, the older man responded with a strained voice, "The last I saw, Eunsook took her back to the House of Lotus."

The doctor nodded, mustering a smile, "Good, it's best she doesn't see him like this. Now, hyung, I need you to focus and keep your emotions in check. Can you do that?"

Blinking rapidly, Hongjoong straightened up, determined to shake off the previous scene. Seonghwa had passed out shortly after spotting him and Wooyoung, halting any attempt to mount his horse. The surge of fear the dressmaker felt then was beyond words. But now, he knew he had to concentrate. Hearing Yunho use "hyung" after so long was grounding, a reminder that emotions had no place in their current situation. He nodded resolutely, "Of course. Just tell me what to do."

Together, they swiftly removed the general's bloodied clothes and tended to his wound, expecting a deep gash but finding only a surface graze. They were puzzled by the discrepancy between the amount of blood and the minor injury. Fortunately, it seemed the venom hadn't spread far; the discolouration was limited to the immediate area around the wound.

The physician concluded that Seonghwa's loss of consciousness was likely due to exhaustion and lack of proper treatment rather than the severity of the injury itself. With the herb they were gathering, he should recover fully in a few weeks.

Right on cue, Jongho and Wooyoung arrived back at the estate, slightly out of breath but carrying an abundance of echinacea as requested by Yunho. Without delay, the group of servants assigned to the doctor immediately sprang into action, following his instructions diligently. They divided the batch of herbs in half: one portion was prepared into a paste for external use, while the other was transformed into a tonic for consumption. With both methods employed, they were confident they could expel all traces of the venom from the general's system in no time.

As the first batch of medication was prepared within a few hours, the team of staff assisted Yunho with applying the paste over Seonghwa's wound and feeding him the tonic. They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they saw his condition stabilise. Hongjoong felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he watched the colour gradually return to his friend's face.

Turning to Jongho, the dressmaker spoke, "Go on and fetch the mistress. She must be worried sick about him."

With an enthusiastic bow, the assistant hurried off to find you after receiving an approving nod from the physician, signalling that it was safe for you to visit your husband. When he arrived at your quarters, he found you pacing anxiously. Your steps halted abruptly when he called out, "Mistress!"

You held your breath until the younger man broke into a wide smile, "He's okay. You can go see him now."

A wave of relief washed over you, melting away the fear that had gripped your heart just moments ago. A small part of you had prepared for the worst, imagining a world without Seonghwa by your side, and the thought left you feeling utterly lost and alone. The prospect of becoming a widow, of navigating life without the man who had brought so much happiness into your world, was almost unbearable.

So when Jongho appeared in a rush, your heart leapt into your throat with fear. But as he delivered the news of the general's recovery, you couldn't contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. Tears of relief streamed down your cheeks as you thanked the assistant.

With a reassuring smile, the younger man gently led you towards your husband, guiding you to the one person who had always been your anchor in the storm.

As you approached Seonghwa's quarters, your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. The memory of your last encounter with him lingered in your mind, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your thoughts. What if he didn't want to see you? What if his harsh words were a reflection of his true feelings, and he had truly grown tired of your presence?

However, anger also simmered beneath the surface as you contemplated the possibility. How dare he speak to you in such a manner, dismissing your feelings and calling you troublesome? The hurt of his words slowly gave way to indignation as you recalled the promise he had made to protect you from disrespect. Yet, he had been the one to wound you with his callous remarks.

Entering the room, you temporarily pushed aside the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you moments before. Your eyes immediately sought out your husband's still unconscious figure lying on the bed, and all other thoughts faded into the background.

Yunho moved aside respectfully to allow you a clear view, bowing in acknowledgement before addressing you, "Ah, Lady Park, you're here. Well then, I'll leave the general to your care for now. I should probably go and write back to General Officer Song to update him on his superior's status."

You nodded gratefully, offering him a warm smile, "Thank you so much for all your hard work, Physician Jung."

He shook his head modestly, returning your smile, "Please don't mention it, my lady. I'm just doing my job. We've given him the first batch of medication so far, and thankfully, his body is responding well to it. I plan to administer this to him daily. I'm confident he should be fully recovered in a few weeks."

Sitting beside Seonghwa on the bed, watching him peacefully asleep, tears welled in your eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily, a reassuring sign that he was still alive, still with you. It felt almost like déjà vu, reminiscent of the moment when he had first discovered your scars, except back then, it was you who lay on the bed.

With a trembling hand, you reached out toward his face, longing to touch him, to reassure yourself that he was truly okay. But before your fingertips could make contact, his combat reflexes kicked in, and he startled you by grabbing your wrist tightly, his eyes snapping open in alarm. As recognition dawned on his face, he relaxed his grip, softening at the sight of you.

"It's you..."

His reaction, though simple, was more than enough to convince you that he still felt the same for you. Instant relief filled your being, realising that all your previous worries about him growing tired of you were for nothing. You should have known better than to doubt his feelings for you.

After a moment, as if recalling your earlier exchange, he released your hand and turned away, attempting to maintain a stoic expression, "What are you still doing here? Aren't you angry with me?"

You scoffed, withdrawing your hand and crossing your arms over your chest, "How long do you plan to keep up this facade? Wasn't it enough that you said those hurtful things to me earlier? Calling me a burden and suggesting I leave you for another man."

At that, Hongjoong and Wooyoung interjected, reminding you both of their presence. The dressmaker shot up from his seat, his expression a mix of shock and anger, "He said what?! Park Seonghwa, you'd better have a damn good explanation, or I swear I'll knock some sense into you again—"

The private investigator quickly intervened, slapping a hand over the older man's mouth and offering a sheepish smile to you and the general, "Oh gosh, I apologise for him. We'll step outside to give you both some privacy to talk things over."

Once you were alone, your husband sighed heavily before sitting up, stubbornly dismissing your attempt to help him, "Listen, I meant what I said. Perhaps considering Prince Yeosang would be beneficial for you. You want happiness, don't you? You'd find it with a husband who doesn't have to leave, risking his life in wars. Someone who isn't stained with blood, someone who isn't a complete monster. It's for the best."

Your fists clenched as you glared at him, "Who are you to dictate what's best for me, General Park? You said it yourself, I'm my own person now, capable of making my own choices. I can do what I want and love who I want. Shouldn't that be left up to me?"

When he remained silent and continued to avoid your gaze, you pressed on, "And yes, I do want happiness. But how can I find it if I'm not with the man I love?"

At that, you sensed his resolve faltering.

Sighing, you reached over to cover his hand with yours, "There, I've said it. I love you, you moron. I don't want anyone else but you. Why is that so hard to understand? I don't care about what you've done to those people who call themselves my family; they deserved it, and I've forgiven you for it. I just... all I wanted was the truth and an apology from you. Instead, all you've given me were hurtful words. But I understand now. You were just scared, weren't you?"

Your heart fell when he still refused to meet your gaze, "Or was I mistaken? Did you truly mean what you said, wanting me gone?" You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his tight jaw, a clear sign of his restraint, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me then. If you can do that, I'll go as you wish."

Finally, he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading, almost begging you not to push him. You couldn't comprehend his stubbornness; was it just his pride getting in the way? With a defeated nod, you relented, "I understand. You must truly want me to leave and be with His Highness. I suppose there's no point in staying where I'm not wanted. Goodbye, General Park."

Just as you began to pull your hand away and rise from your seat, he surprised you by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. His whisper in your ear sent shivers down your spine, "No, I'm sorry... You're right; I didn't mean any of what I said. I love you too, my wife. Please don't go."

With a tired exhale, you melted into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his arms as you buried your face against his shoulder. Each comforting squeeze seemed to ease the heartache you had been carrying, restoring a sense of wholeness within you. This was where you belonged, in his arms.

"You're such an idiot, you know that?" You murmured softly.

He chuckled against your neck, his breath tickling your skin, "I suppose I am." He admitted with a hint of amusement.

"About damn time you realised it, Park Seonghwa. I've been telling you for years. Disrespect your wife like that again, and I'll make you regret it—" Hongjoong's voice cut through the room as he burst in, followed closely by Wooyoung and Jongho, prompting laughter from you as your husband pulled you closer, using you as a shield.

"Please, he just regained consciousness!" The assistant interjected, defending his master despite earning a stern glare from the dressmaker. Deep down, however, everyone knew Hongjoong couldn't have been happier to see his friend alright.

« Preview of Part 19 »

In the warzone, Mingi paced anxiously, his mind consumed with worry for the general's well-being. It had been only two days since he dispatched the messenger to deliver his urgent letter to Yunho. He could only pray that Seonghwa had made it home safely and that his message had managed to reach the physician in time.

Despite his concerns, the strategist forced himself to focus on the immediate tasks at hand. He delved into refining his current strategies and devising new contingency plans for any potential scenarios that might arise before his superior's return.

Before long, a breathless soldier burst into the main tent with urgent news, rambling away in a panic, "Bad news, Officer Song! We were on standby at the border when..."

Mingi placed a reassuring hand on the soldier's shoulder, "Woah, breathe. Calm down and tell me what you saw."

After composing himself, the soldier continued, "Sir, Ruhon soldiers have been sighted approaching once again!"

Oh, crap.

He struggled to understand why this was happening. General Park had defeated most of the enemy forces in the last battle. Where could Ruhon possibly be sourcing this new influx of soldiers from? With the general absent, the strategist knew he would have to take command of the army despite his lack of recent battlefield experience.

But there was no other choice.

I hope you're happy with the outcome HAHA y'all, it's hilarious how accustomed I've grown to writing angst for this story that it felt incredibly weird to write a happy scene. Only two parts left, yippee!

As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[eldritch-spouse]

Woah hey, you just ran into a fey-

Say hello to Mooncalf !

Do not give him your name.

This not-so-little trickster has been in a deep sleep for a looong long while. It's unclear what got him to stir, perhaps the abnormal phenomena Earth is going through all of a sudden, but now that Mooncalf is wide awake, he has a lot of playtime to catch up on.

Monsters of his kind are some of the most dangerous you could ever find. Short of siadar themselves, these entities often hold far too much power for their immature attitudes. They love games and they hate to lose, to come out unscathed is to have impressive wit. Thankfully, they're quite rare.

Aligning himself with no one's values or goals, Mooncalf lives for the thrill of self-amusement. For deceit, games, music, comedy- His desires as simple and gentle as they can be dark and sadistic. The real consistency of fey like him lies in their worship of the lunar cycles, from which they claim their power is drawn from.

To catch his attention is to reveal yourself particularly unique, or simply stand out at the wrong time in the wrong place. Either way, you're assured a joyride in a pocket space that'll leave you more than a little rattled. Even if you never allow this fey to have ownership over you the proper way, Mooncalf is possessive and adamant that only he may interfere with your life's trajectory, a persistence predator more than anything else. His love for you translates into constant attempts to make your surroundings interesting and exciting, but oftentimes only result in giving you mild to severe anxiety.

Although fey are fond of disguises, many of them will have "go-to" forms, so while you see Mooncalf's bird-legged, hunched visage often, he may appear to you in other ways.

A consequence of staying asleep for as long as he has is that his magic has yet to shake off a certain inertia, which keeps his glamors static and prevent him from shifting back to his natural state. For this reason, Mooncalf avoids taking on his conventionally attractive humanoid disguise. It grows quite irritating to stay in it for prolonged periods of time, causing him to become aimlessly violent.

A non-threatening, rounded form exists to aid him in drained or unsafe states, with the intent of appealing to any perceived predator's emotions and evoking merciful urges. This form is also excellent to preserve energy as a whole. Although presumably weakened when in this state, it wouldn't be a bright idea to just punt Mooncalf against the nearest wall.

When Mooncalf is entering a rut, he will "hunt" a possible partner by using the humanoid disguise and attempting to trick someone into stepping inside a pocket space.

Well. Good luck with bird legs.

[lovesickeros]

☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

[dragon-ascent]

Hello, how are you ? Since you have open request I’d like to ask something : How do you think our favorite dragon Zhongli will react to his wife being accused of lying because they have corrected an historian on a false fact about Morax ?

Since English isn’t my first language I’m afraid this is not clear, I’m sorry.

Ooh, I like it, here's what I've come up with <3

-----

The tension is palpable and certainly not what you were hoping to land yourself in when you accepted Zhongli's request to be his plus-one aboard the Pearl Galley.

"Forgive me, Mr. Changying, but that's where I'll have to correct you," you tell the stocky man before you. The food and drinks on the table are long-untouched. "Rex Lapis didn't take on such a grand ten-headed and eight-armed form to exterminate those sea creatures. In fact, he personally went door to door to trap them in little Geo contraptions, even having a bit of trouble with the.... particularly wrigglier ones."

Changying's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. "Do you truly believe that rubbish just because that is what's commonly peddled? That the Geo archon, who could raise the mountains and calm the tides without breaking a sweat, found the task of getting rid of tiny sea creatures tedious and challenging?"

Sighing, you say, "Even the gods are subject to being less-than-perfect in their methods. And besides, the damn things were inside people's houses - brute strength would not have been handy at all. Rex Lapis needed to be careful and meticulous so that none of his people were harmed. Hence the Geo cages."

Despite how neatly you'd presented your counterpoint, Changying merely scoffs as he adjusts his glasses. He jabs a finger at you accusingly. "You're lying, just like everyone else," he growls, "and you clearly have no respect for our late archon! Do you even like him?"

Your breath nearly hitches in your throat as you gaze up at him in shock. "Ex...excuse me?"

The man pulls no punches as he continues his rant against you. "How can you so blindly believe what the masses think? Maybe if you were a real Rex Lapis follower like me, you would learn some critical thinking skills and draw more accurate conclusions!"

"I'm afraid I am on the side of my partner here, Mr. Changying," cuts in Zhongli, placing an arm on your shoulder. Relief floods your veins as you let out the breath you'd been holding. "They are correct in explaining that Rex Lapis had to go the simplistic route when dealing with Liyue's sea creature infestation."

Changying's eyes grow wide. "Forgive me, Mr. Zhongli," he murmurs, and you're not ignorant to the way his tone mellows out and becomes more respectful as he continues to speak. "I didn't know you were also in agreement of that story. But let me explain why he likely-"

"It is alright for you to have your own interpretations of events, especially for a being with an expansive history that is always being debated over," says Zhongli calmly, poised as always, "but when these interpretations are unrealistic and you still try to present them as fact...while belittling other people, no less...the line must be drawn somewhere, yes?"

Changying blanches, stammering, "Er, but don't you think Rex Lapis would appreciate deviating thought processes more, especially when..."

Zhongli's eyes narrow ever so slightly, his visage still calm as a pond. "Perhaps so, but what he would not appreciate is his people trying to one-up others in an attempt to prove they are his most loyal followers." Your husband glances at you. "I know my partner well, and they love Rex Lapis dearly. Not only do you accuse them of lying, you also undermine the love they hold for the deity."

His hand brushes against yours and he interlaces his fingers with you, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You smile softly.

Changying scrambles for words, useless excuses and explanations that hardly justify him being on his high horse.

Zhongli, unamused, fires his parting shot. "Far be it for an ordinary man like myself to tell you what to do, but here is some advice: gather reliable citations for your claims, provide succinct evidence, and be respectful of those with opposing views, and perhaps then Rex Lapis would consider you a favorite of his."

With that, Zhongli escorts you away from the scene, knowing full well you will always be his favorite by far - the approving smile he gives you conveys that perfectly.

[cozage]

Hello dear writer, can I request Shanks and other charas getting a new perfume for the reader because they think it smells nice and would suit their beloved so they'll spray a little on themself and when the reader smells it they would think that they were cheating on them

Characters: gn x Shanks, Sanji, Ace Cw: miscommunication Total word count: 2.5k

New Perfume

Shanks

You noticed it the moment he stepped on the ship. Perfume. A kind that didn’t belong to you. You had to admit, it smelled nice. And it certainly wasn’t cheap. Lavender used to be your favorite scent, but now all it was doing was making your stomach churn. 

Whoever Shanks smelled like certainly lived a high dollar life. You shouldn’t have been jealous; you knew that. You had no reason to be. You and Shanks had never talked about being exclusive. If you wanted him to be only yours, all you had to do was ask. But you hadn’t asked him. So he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. 

You wanted to ignore it. You wanted to act like it didn’t bother you in the slightest. But everytime the wind shifted and you got a whiff of that light lavender scent, your stomach knotted into a ball the size of your fist. You hated being jealous of someone who was already a distant memory to Shanks, someone who had already been left behind on the last island, but somehow that made it worse. 

You stared out at the island growing smaller behind you, trying to get your mind off of whoever the perfume belonged to when strong arms wrapped around you from behind, and the sickening smell of lavender flooded your nose. You couldn’t help but tense against him being so close. The smell of him and the lavender perfume went together so well. 

“You okay?” Your captain hummed in your ear. 

“Fine,” you responded, trying to act normal. 

“You sure?” He rested his chin on your shoulder, trying to get you to look at him. 

But you knew if you looked him in the eyes, he would see your pain. So you kept your eyes fixed on the horizon instead, trying to remain as casual as possible. 

“Something’s bothering you,” he observed. His fingers danced along your sides, causing you to flinch from his tickling. 

“Shanks,” was all you had time to breathe out before his fingers dug into your skin playfully, and you let out a fit of giggles. You tried to pull away from him, but he held you tight and didn’t let up. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he cooed to you, turning you around to face him. He stopped his tickling assault, but he wrapped his arms around you so you couldn’t escape. 

“It’s nothing,” you lied. Your eyes stayed downcast, trying to avoid his gaze. 

He hummed disapprovingly, frowning at your visage. “Well I’ve got something to cheer you up. Wanna see?”

You finally peeked up at him, curious about what he was going to offer you. He had that stupid grin plastered across his face, and your heart skipped a beat. Shanks could make you weak in the knees just from a look. You hated and loved it at the same time. 

“Come on.” He intertwined his hand with your and pulled you along, heading for the bunkhouses. 

After a few steps, you pulled your hand away, but kept walking next to him. Shanks shot you a worried look, but you pretended not to see it. You rubbed your wrist, trying to act normal, but Shanks knew something was wrong. You hated that you were being like this. It wasn’t fair to him, and you knew that. But you couldn’t help feeling hurt, even if you had no reason to be. 

He quickly opened the door to his quarters and stepped to the side to allow you to enter. You walked inside and looked around, trying to find any hints of another person being in his room. But everything was how you had left it this morning, and you breathed a slight sigh of relief. At least whatever had taken place hadn’t happened in his bed. There was some consolation in that. 

Shanks picked up a little brown bag and handed it out to you. “For you,” he said. 

You hesitantly took it, and opened it to peek inside. There was a beautiful glass bottle filled with purple liquid. Your heart sank. 

“Perfume?” you asked him. 

“Try it,” he urged. 

You already knew what it was going to smell like, but you opened the jar and lightly inhaled. It really was a lovely smell. 

“I thought I smelled this on you earlier.” You tried to keep any cynicism out of your voice, replacing it with inquisition. 

“Oh yeah!” Shanks said, holding out his arm to you. “I tried a bit earlier at the store to see how it smelled, and all I could think of was how good it would smell on you.”

You pressed your nose to his wrist, smelling the concentrated perfume in the area he indicated. He had been shopping for you. The perfume you smelled on him was yours, or at least that was his intention. There had never been another person. 

“You okay?” Shanks asked, looking at you with concern. 

“This is for me,” you clarified. “And you found it in a shop?”

“Yeah,” he said, a confused look on your face. “I thought you liked lavender. What’s going on?”

“No, I just-” you paused, blushing at the embarrassment you were about to cause yourself. “I love it. But I thought the smell…came from someone else.”

Shanks took a moment to process your words for a moment and then laughed.

“Oh darling, don’t you know?” He lightly kissed the tip of your nose, smiling against your skin. “You’re the only one for me.”

Sanji

“My love!!” Sanji called, the door slamming open behind you.

You turned from your desk to see him, a smile spreading across your face. You and Sanji usually parted ways during island days, and today hadn’t been an exception. But you had missed being around him, even if it was only for a few hours. 

“Sanji! You’re back!”

He set a bag on the table and bounded toward you, enveloping you in a big hug. That’s when you smelled it. The hint of vanilla wouldn’t have been so out of place if it hadn’t been paired with a strong lilac smell.

Your stomach sank. Sanji was a man who loved to admire everyone, but he tended to keep it under control since the two of you had started dating. You didn’t think he was one to cheat, but you had seen how Sanji got around women in the past. 

You could feel your body tensing in fear and anger. Jealousy coursed through your veins. Why else would he smell like such a strong, lovely perfume if not from someone else rubbing against him. 

“Sanji,” you started, trying to keep your voice level. “Why do you smell like lilac perfume?”

“Do you like it?” he asked, pulling away and grinning at you. 

You tried to keep the fury out of your eyes, but you knew it was futile. When he saw your expression, his face fell. Disappointment flooded his eyes, and a familiar pang hit you in the gut. 

“I can return it, if you want,” he offered. 

Your brow furrowed, staring at him. “Return it?”

He could sense you were angry, that was obvious enough. He scanned your face, trying to figure out what exactly he had done wrong. He had been certain this perfume would suit you well, but now he was worried you were offended at his implication.

“The perfume. I can return it if you don’t like it.”

“What perfume? The one that you’re smothered in right now?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice this time, and Sanji flinched at the harshness of your words. 

He blinked at you, trying to comprehend where your sudden burst of anger had come from. He put his wrist to his nose and sniffed, lilac with a hint of vanilla. 

“Do you mean this?” He held his wrist out for you to smell, the lilac so strong it made you sick.

“I don’t want to smell whoever was all over you, Sanji!” you snapped, slapping away his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“But the lady at the perfume shop said it was one of their best sellers.” His voice was thick when he spoke, and confusion was evident in his eyes. “I thought you would like it.”

The pain in his voice gave you a quick moment to analyze his words. The gift bag on the table. Perfume shop. I can return it if you don’t like it.

“The perfume is for me,” you dumbly stated.

“Of course,” Sanji said cautiously, watching you closely. “Who else would it be for, darling?”

You stared blankly at him, not sure how you had gotten it all so wrong. Why had you gone to the worst case scenario? Why had you expected Sanji to hurt you like that? Of course he never would do such a thing. He loved you, and you loved him. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, unable to find the words for anything else. 

He looked at you, his eyes full of concern. “Sorry for what, my love? Is everything okay?”

“I thought…” your eyes drifted over to the bag on the table. “I thought the smell was from someone else.”

Sanji’s curly brows creased, not understanding your implications. “Someone else?” he questioned. 

“I thought you were with someone else.” Your gaze moved back to his eyes, hoping he could see the regret in your expression. 

“Someone…else…” It took him a moment to understand your implication. His eyes widened in understanding. “No! No, I would never-”

“I know,” you cut him off. “I’m so sorry I thought for even a second that you would.”

Sanji pulled you into a hug again, holding you close to him. The smell of lilac and vanilla was much more comforting now. You noticed that it mixed wonderfully with his natural scent of clove and ginger. 

“I really like the perfume, by the way,” you mumbled into his chest. “It’s perfect.”

He squeezed you tighter in response, pleased that his shopping trip was a success. 

Ace

You and Ace had always been casual, but you had been unspokenly exclusive.  You bought gifts for each other and spent the days by his side and slept in the same bed. You were together in every sense except a spoken one. He was yours, and you were his. 

Everyone on the ship knew it, but island days were a different story. Bars and clubs came with strangers who were always curious about pirates, especially attractive ones. You got insanely jealous when he flirted with the locals, and he was protective whenever islanders tried to make a move on you. Normally you all stuck together to deter the unwanted attention, but Ace had asked to go off on his own today. 

When he sat next to you in the dining hall, you understood why. The smell of a sweet cherry medley came off his body, and your stomach churned. Ace wasn’t the kind of person to wear perfume, especially not something as sweet as that scent.

“Smells like you were busy today,” you noted, unable to keep the hint of hostility out of your voice. 

“Very.” He either ignored your tone or was oblivious to it. He grabbed his fork and dug into his food, practically inhaling it all before speaking again. “I wanna show you something later.”

“Not interested,” you grumbled. You rose from your seat next to him and stormed out the door, sulking back to your bedroom. 

Unfortunately, you shared a bedroom with Ace, and after a few minutes, he cracked open the door and peeked inside. 

“Can we talk?” he asked in his soft, tender voice. “Or do I need to leave you alone for a bit?”

You sighed and dropped the book you were reading back down on your bed. “We can talk.”

He quickly stepped inside the door and shut it, afraid that if he took too long you might change your mind. 

He sat next to you on the bed nervously, both of you glancing at each other. 

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” he finally asked. 

“Look I know we’re not officially together or anything but-”

“What do you mean?” Ace asked, cutting you off. “We are together.”

You stared at him. “Ace,” you laughed nervously, staring at him. “We are not together.”

“We sleep together,” he said, pointing at the bed under you. “We eat together and work on chores together and well…we do everything together.”

“But we're not exclusively together,” you reasoned, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He looked hurt at your comment. “Have you been sleeping with other people? I thought-”

“No!” you rushed to clarify. “I just mean-”

“I haven’t either. So we’re exclusive.”

You were having trouble arguing with his reasoning. You never had any plans to sleep with anybody else. And it didn’t sound like he did either. But that perfume…

You took a breath, deciding it was better to ask than to endlessly contemplate. 

“What’s with the cherry perfume then?”

He stared at you, blinking a few times. You could see the gears in his brain turning, trying to piece together what your question had to do with the current conversation. 

“You mean this cherry perfume?” He picked up a fancy bottle on your bedside table and held it out to you. You hadn’t noticed it there before. It was beautifully made, with a light pink liquid swirling around inside of it. 

“I bought it for you,” he said.

You raised your eyebrow in suspicion. “For me?”

He nodded, squeezing the pump on the side. A mist of liquid came out from the nozzle, and a light cherry scent filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeper. The scent really was lovely. 

“It’s really nice,” you admitted. 

You could feel Ace relax next to you, happy that you were satisfied with his purchase. “That's why I didn’t want to go shopping with you. I wanted to get you something nice.”

You opened your eyes again to find a blush spreading across Ace’s freckles. He looked embarrassed and timid, a side only you could pull out of him. You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, thankful that you had gotten the mishap cleared up. 

“I love it,” you whispered. 

He smiled sheepishly at you and placed the bottle back on the nightstand. “So are we exclusive now?” he asked. 

His dark eyes stared deeply into your soul, and you felt your heart flutter. You desperately wanted to jump up and down in excitement at his question, but you didn’t want him to know how thrilled you were about his question. 

A cheeky grin appeared across your face. “Are you asking me?” you teased.

His lips pushed out in a pout knowing you were taunting him. He was about to respond with something snarky, but you grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face towards your lips, desperate for a taste of him again. 

His lips were chapped and salty from the sea spray, but you didn’t mind it. When you finally released your mouth from his, he was only able to mumble out a few words before he dove back in for another kiss. 

“I’m all yours, if you’ll have me.”

You couldn’t think of anyone better to belong to.

[bleuside97]

Redemption and Regression

paring: babydaddy!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader

summary: even after five years there is not escaping of jeon jungkook.

warnings: reader has a four year old child, reader gets kidnapped by jjk, manhandling, harsh words, profanities, a bit of angst,

genre: yandere jungkook

"Hi mommy." A little voice called through the phone call. You hold the phone close to your ear. Relief filled your senses by hearing your son's voice. Looking both ways before crossing the empty street. "Hello mommy's baby." You replied to your son, U-Jin Y/L/N, smiling ear to ear. "How are you liking it at Grandma's house?" You asked the small boy. "I love it here, Grandma has lots of toys for me to play with and she cooked samgyupsal for dinner." You couldn't see him but you can tell that joy evident in his voice. In the background of the phone call the sound of toys clashing together. Clearly, submerged in his fun toys he stopped taking.

Your four year old baby, frequently stays at his grandparents house on nights you have to work overtime. This whole week has been filled with late shifts at the office. You are employed as a journalist, a struggling one if that, you are writing your newest article that could be your breakthrough. A female voice cuts in, "Y/n." "Hello Mom, thank you for taking U-Jin in again, I've been so busy at the office." Walking home from work alone in the dark of the night. Thankfully you're almost at home. Just a few more blocks from it. You walk through the patches of yellow lights given by the street lights, within every kilometer. A gust of wind flies past you and bites your nose and cheeks turning a bright rose color. Your cling onto your light jacket a little tighter with your free hand. It was cold but your pursed nonetheless pulling the hood over your head. Pushing your hands deeper into your jacket's pocket for warmth. You continue to walk to your destination.

"I can't neglect my responsibility as a Grandmother," She dismisses your gratitude, always selfless. You're grateful to have her in your life, the only person you trust right now. You smile gratefully, admitting, "I can't do this alone." Tears well up, clouding your vision. "I'm a struggling single mom, trying to keep my job." A compassionate sigh emanates from the other end of the phone. "Don't give up, Y/n. You've come so far from those so many years ago." Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face. The smile fades as you recall your life before five years ago. Swiftly changing the subject, you attempt to forget about it. "I'll pick up U-Jin tomorrow, it's my day off. See you then, please kiss U-Jin goodnight for me."

You conclude the call quick to tuck it in your purse. A shadow of a figure in the distance. A rather tall figure, with long brunette hair blowing in the wind. He wore a loose-fitting hoodie and baggy jeans. He walks, his gaze locked on the sidewalk ahead, his face obscured by a cap that renders him faceless in the dim light. In the midst of the crowded sidewalk, your shoulders accidentally collide. You're quick to offer an apology, but as you do, the faceless figure slowly turns to face you, and in that instant, you imprint a name on his featureless visage. A surge of instinctive fear jolts through your mind, urging your body into action. Your legs propel you into motion before rational thought can catch up.

In the darkness behind you, an iron grip suddenly clamps onto your arms, imprisoning them against your trembling frame. You instinctively struggle, desperately attempting to wriggle free from his unyielding hold, but he remains an immovable force. As fear courses through your veins, you open your mouth to scream, only to be violently yanked backward, stealing the very breath from your lungs and reducing your scream to a feeble gasp.

His fingers constrict around your waist and throat, the world narrowing to the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears and the veins throbbing visibly in your throat. Panic surges within you, tears welling up in your eyes. Amidst the chaotic moment, your vision is reduced to a blur of blinding car headlights, the whizzing of the street, and a fraction of a car door frame as you're forcibly thrust into the passenger-side seat. Desperation fuels your efforts as you claw your nails against his arm, a frantic struggle to break free.

Having cornered you within the confines of the vehicle, your assailant steps back, allowing you a fleeting glimpse. Through your disheveled hair, the darkness, and the tears clouding your vision, you discern little more than the silhouette of a man. His head abruptly swivels in your direction, his hand lunging forward, and a noxious cloth slaps onto your face.

In your frantic struggle with all your might, you toss your head back, a desperate bid to evade him, your instincts screaming about the consequences of failure. You were forcibly shoved into the car, an unsettling sense of déjà vu washed over you, and you could have sworn that your faceless assailant wore a hauntingly familiar, triumphant grin. A haunting warning chills your soul, "I warned you, y/n, from the moment you left me, I told you I will always find you." The world dissolves into darkness as he steps back, sealing your fate with a resounding slam of the car door. Rendering you unconscious.

(Transition)

A cold shiver danced down your spine, and the chill of damp concrete beneath your scent a jolt of discomfort through her frail frame. Panic began to claw at the edges of your consciousness as her memory reluctantly unveiled the grim truth: she was trapped, imprisoned by the very person she had once called her own.

As her senses gradually sharpened, she became aware of the stale, musty air, tinged with the scent of old wood and mildew. The sound of distant water dripping echoed ominously, punctuating the silence that enveloped her. Her hands, trembling as she explored her immediate surroundings, brushed against rough walls and the coarse surface of a cot, revealing the stark minimalism of her prison. With every fleeting moment, the dreadful awareness of her predicament grew more poignant. Memories of their tumultuous history resurfaced, casting shadows on her thoughts, and the realization dawned that she was now at the mercy of her former captor. Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the agonizing helplessness of her situation.

Amidst the dimly lit basement's gloom, your eyes gradually adjusted to the obscurity, revealing the harsh reality of her situation. As her disoriented senses sharpened, she could make out a silhouette lurking in the shadows. Her heart raced, and a tremor coursed through her frail form as the figure gradually materialized before her.

a/n: it's been a minute bro ik i said that i was going to post like five days a week naaa that was a lie. it's not that easy im currently in school and im tired and doing work all the time. im exhausted but ima try to post once a week. i will try. anyways, im still on my yandere shit and i have way more coming up. i really this one and i think it's a cool story. please let me know your feedback please this is only the first part of the story and i don't want this to flop 😭 please don't make it flop I beg! i really worked hard on it it took me days to do!! there's gonna be two more chapters and smut would be included in the next chapter so...

[makomoto-chan]

Hello, pookie💋💋💋 Can I get a one shot where Fyodor is in a business relationship where he and the reader (They have a sarcastic and unserious personalty) are using each other for their own plans, and then the reader does something incredibly clever and Fyodor realizes that he is in love with them?

a/n: omg I'm so sorry this is probably the worse fanfic I've ever wrote sorry I swear I tried

no abilities AU

«I might have misjudged you.» ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

you and Dostoevsky work together since a couple of months, and he hates it. it's not about you, it's about having to work with someone at the same level as him. it's been centuries since the last time he actually considered someone as smart as him, and he doesn't like the feeling. he hates that he has to be cautious of what he says because you could use it against him whenever. he hates that he's somewhat attracted by the fact that you could earn his trust and defeat him without he even knows what's happening. no, he doesn't like you at all. well, until today.

he had a plan sonce months, and he's never told you about it buy somehow you found out. you're pressing a gun against his back, the silence of the parking lot surrounding the two of you and night takes over.

"how did you know?" he asks, his voice monotone, clearly trying to act unfazed when he's actually both annoyed and intrigued by the fact you managed to outsmart him.

"I know everything." you say, your sweet voice cheerful and disgustingly beautiful to his ears even in this situation.

"I see. A magician never reveals his(/her) tricks, I guess." despite trying to keep a serious tone, he can't totally hide the nervous tinge that takes over his voice. he can only think about how you've been so much smarter than him, that you might be the only person in the world who he considers not only at the same level but above him.

"exactly, I see you understand."

there's silence for a few minutes then he speaks up, your gun still against his back.

"my dear, may I turn around?"

"why?"

"I want to see the beautiful visage the person I finall realized is superior to me."

you chuckle "is that your way of flirting, Dotya?~"

he pauses for a moment, then his voice becomes lower, almost a whisper "I didn't inted to flirt, but I'm glad if I managed to charm you so naturally."

you blink for a moment, then start laughing. it was a genuine sound, something Dostoevsky didn't hear oftenly from you, and he has to admit it is quite a pleasant sound. he turns around to face you once he realizes you won't shoot him anymore.

"I might have misjudged you, my dear."

"is it so? and what do you think about me now?~"

"I think I might even ask you out for a date if you won't kill me."

[elizadoll]

Coven's Corner Antique Shop: Portrait

CW: Dolls, Witches, Mild themes of hypnosis, mild themes of transformation, Stillness

Moving her hat away from her eyes, Eleanor turned her gaze up at the large, wooden sign that sat atop the old-looking building that sat in front of her. "Coven's Corner Antiques" it read in a curvy font, the letters painted in a bright shade of red, with floral details in yellows and oranges surrounding them. The sign was clearly much younger than the building it was attached to, a fresh coat of paint without any signs of damage, while the roof it sat on was visibly worn by many a winter, the tiles discolored and cracked with age.

She'd seen this place before, but it certainly hadn't been an antique shop last she'd been in this part of town. These weren't the kind of businesses to just pop out of nowhere, but Eleanor figured it was likely just a change in locations or something. One thing was for certain though, and it was that she could sense the magic positively radiating off of the building, though that was perhaps expected, given the name.

Eleanor stepped inside, her arrival announced to the building by the sound of a chime strung up near the corner of the door. Just behind a counter nearby, she caught sight of a doll perking up and turning towards the door, offering a friendly wave.

"Hello there!" It chirped in a cheerful tone, a slight squeak to its voice that only rather old dolls seemed to possess, though its exterior did not betray its age, well-polished as it was. "Welcome to Coven's Corner! One's name is Trinket! Could it be of assistance?"

"Yes, actually." Eleanor nodded. "I'm looking for a painting or decoration to put up on my wall. Something seasonal for spring, I suppose."

Without missing a beat, Trinket turned and pointed down a hall to the left. "Miss and Miss keep all the wall thingies over there," it said.

"Thank you," Eleanor replied, heading for the hall.

"Have fun!" Trinket cheered. Eleanor didn't turn back to look at it, but she could hear from the faint squeaking noise behind her Trinket was waving to her as she left.

True to Trinket's instruction, Eleanor soon found herself in a corner of the store that was dedicated entirely towards wall decor. Most of it was paintings, unsurprisingly, but there was some wall art, a few mirrors, and the regrettable sight of a "live, laugh, love" sign tucked away, just barely visible behind a model anchor.

Many of the items possessed traces of magic, more than would be present if they were simply handled by witches, but for her part, Eleanor couldn't sense anything malevolent among the lot, so she didn't pay it terribly much mind. She could always dispel any enchantments on anything she purchased anyway, so it wasn't a massive deal.

Unfortunately for her, nothing really jumped out at her at first glance, and while there were a couple paintings of farms and meadows that could definitely fly as "spring-y," none of them held Eleanor's attention for very long. Eleanor began to dig through the assortment of decorations, but still, nothing quite seemed to stand out.

Eventually, though, she did manage to find something that seemed worthwhile. While examining a mirror, she happened to notice that it seemed to be hung over another piece of decor and, feeling rather curious, she pulled the mirror off the wall to take a look at what was underneath.

Immediately, Eleanor was enraptured with what she found. It was an oval-shaped oil portrait of a doll, a tender smile on its lips, wearing a simple black dress that matched its long, wavy hair. It was a simple painting, but something about it spoke to Eleanor, that touched her very soul.

The moment she set eyes upon the visage of the doll in the painting, Eleanor was overtaken by a sense of utter serenity. She felt the tension in her shoulders fade away, and her arms felt to her sides. Her breathing slowed, and any sense of frustration she'd had with her unsuccessful search for a wall decoration was gone.

In an instant, the painting consumed Eleanor's thoughts. Not so much the image on the canvas itself, but merely its calming, tranquil presence. Eleanor's worries and ails felt so distance she could hardly recall what they were. Pure bliss overtook her as she stood there, staring, simply enamored with the feeling of true peace it bestowed upon her.

What a lovely, lovely painting. What a lovely, lovely feeling...

...

...

...

Eleanor blinked, and all at once, she found herself thrust back into the moment. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, puzzled as to why she felt oddly well-rested. Confused, she narrowed her eyes, taking a closer look at what was in front of her. Oh right, the painting. Something felt off, though. Eleanor pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time.

7:24 PM

No, that couldn't be right. She'd come to the store at what? Noon at the latest? How was it half past seven in the afternoon? That made no sense. Unless... Again, Eleanor took a closer look at the painting, focusing on it harder than before. That's when she sensed the reality of what it was.

Feeling more than a little upset, not only with her own foolishness for falling for it, but at the owners' recklessness for putting a cursed item on sale, Eleanor grabbed the painting off the wall and marched back toward the front desk.

"Hello, hello!" Trinket greeted her, a smile on its fate. "Finally found something you'd like to take home?"

Eleanor shook her head. "Not so much as I'd like to inform you this painting is cursed. Your misses really ought to keep a better track of what the put on sale."

"Oh, this one..." Trinket took the painting in its hands, tilting it from side to side and looking at it closely. "So that's why you were staring at it for so long."

"Pardon?" Eleanor tilted her head. Had this doll really seen her so entranced and not done anything about it?

"Yes!" Trinket confirmed. "It's so sorry, but you looked to happy in Stillness it didn't want to interrupt!"

"You..." Eleanor sighed with frustration, folding her arms. "I suppose it's lucky I caught it when I did, then. If someone with a little less... personhood was transfixed by this thing and you didn't interrupt them, they might've just Become right then and there."

Trinket's eyes widened. "You're right! Goodness, that was a really close call. Miss and Miss and Miss and Miss would not have been happy about that, not one bit... Miss might approve though..." It briefly lost itself in thought, before glancing back over to Eleanor and seemingly remembering it was in the middle of a conversation. "But anyways! Thank you for bringing this cursed item to this one's attention."

Eleanor grit her teeth a bit, but was forced to ultimately accept that yelling at the doll wouldn't solve anything. "You're welcome. Please bring it to your Misses' attentions. I'll be leaving now."

"Awwwh, okay." Trinket dropped its head for just a moment before perking right back up. "Oh, before you go! Can it ask a question?"

If it were a human asking, Eleanor would've said no... but she had a soft spot for dolls. "What is it?"

"Did you enjoy it, at least? Stillness, it means."

"It..." Eleanor hesitated. Though she didn't want to admit it... it was far from the worst feeling in the world. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you came so close to Becoming, you know. One was just curious."

Eleanor felt a jolt in her chest as if her heart had stopped. "I what?"

"You were suuuper close to Becoming, this one thinks! It was a good thing you woke up when you did!"

Mildly panicked, Eleanor quickly got to inspecting herself for any changes. True enough, her skin had become unnaturally smooth, and come to think of it, she certainly did feel a tad shorter. Alright, so, she had nearly Become in the middle of an antique shop. That sure was something, alright.

"Uhm... are you okay?" Trinket tilted its head.

"I-I'm fine," Eleanor lied. "I'll be going now, that's all." She began for the door, more than a little flustered. Had she really come so close? What did that say about her?

"Okay!" Trinket sang. "Oh, wait! Don't forget your painting first!" It held out an oval-shaped object with a cloth draped over it.

Eleanor raised a quizzical eyebrow, still rather disoriented from what Trinket had said to her. "I... didn't buy a painting?"

Trinket thrusted the painting forward. "Consider it on the house! For finding the cursed object!"

With a touch of caution, Eleanor took the painting out of Trinket's hands. "O-oh. Well, thank you."

"Thank you!" Trinket insisted. "See you later!"

"Right. I'll be seeing you."

Eleanor made her way out of the shop and back out onto the road and turned to head back home. On her way, she contemplated the weight of the painting in her hands, and as she did, found a tingle of warmth and serenity somehow radiating from it under the cloth. She knew just the spot she'd hang it up.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello, again with ideas for your new event. Hope nobody made you uncomfortable. I want interaction between Ramshackle ghosts and Baul (for somebody who don't know:it's Sebeks' grandpa) or Zigvolt siblings

Or interaction Mrs. Zigvolt with Mrs.Spade about "oh what good young mans are growing, just little rowdy, don't you think so? "

Dylla (Mrs. Spade) has been getting a lot of interactions, so I decided to give Baur and the Ramshackle Ghosts some time in the limelight :>

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Behold, grandfather—the majesty that is Diasomnia’s lounge…!” Sebek presented the room with all the flair and bravado of a ringmaster in the final show-stopping act of the circus.

The stoney walls lined with tapestries were tall, creating a massive chamber where sounds echoed into the night. Wooden tables with candelabras littered the room, circled by leather furniture. To one side, a lonely fireplace. A set of matching staircases led to an upper floor where a grand throne with dragon wings awaited, lit an ominous violet.

“You may seat here… or there.. or here… if you so wish!!” Sebek cried, pointing. “On cold days, we light the fireplace to ensure that Diasomnia is well-heated! And right up there is where the young master sits while we gaze up and salute his noble visage!!”

Baur let out a growly hmph—something Sebek had come to learn as a sign of begrudging acceptance. “It still pales in comparison to Castle Blackscale and Castle Wildrose’s throne rooms, but it I suppose it is adequate,” he sniffed.

“I am pleased to hear that we have your seal of approval, sir!!” The first year’s smile was toothy, showing all of his pearly whites.

Baur’s chest warmed. He fought to keep his mouth straight—but the corner of it betrayed him, lifting.

But it didn’t last.

Over Sebek’s shoulder, the air seemed to shift, as if an image rippling in a pond. A pale face slowly materialized. Bulging eyes, bulbous nose, shockingly blue mouth cavity and dangling tongue.

Adrenaline shot through his veins, synapses firing on all cylinders.

“GET DOWN!!” Baur commanded at the top of his lungs.

“What—!!”

Sebek had only cocked his head halfway back when grandfather tackled him. With his full weight crashing into Sebek’s at full speed, the two hurtled onto the floor, tumbling behind a leather sofa. Placing a hand on his grandson’s head, Baur forced his head close to the ground. His eyes darted around the room, quickly surveying their surroundings.

Where did it go…?!

“G-Grandfather, what is going on?!” Sebek demanded. Pinned down flat on his stomach, he appeared less like a knight and more like a startled puppy. “Please, if you’ve sensed enemies nearby, allow me to prove my mettle by lending my assistance!”

“I saw it behind you!! It can appear and disappear, slipping into the shadows,” Baur snapped—not at Sebek, but out of habit. “You mustn’t let your guard down, or it could be the last of…”

“Um, ‘scuse me…” a voice offered. It came from beneath Baur’s boots.

A white head in a top hat poked out from between the warrior’s feet. When his eyes met it, the ghost gave a sheepish grin. “Is now a bad time to do jumpscares?”

“You charged at that other guy like a magift player in the tie-breaking round,” cackled a voice from within the walls. A long, withered face protruded from a portrait of Malleus. “I thought you were going to snap his neck!”

“Even ghosts start feelin’ a little bad sometimes,” sighed a third. Round, full-bodied, and fazing through an armchair.

Sebek blinked. “Oh, it’s just the Ramshackle Ghosts.”

“The what?!” Flabbergasted, Baur careened, releasing Sebek from his grip.

The first year stood, brushing off his uniform. “The Ramshackle Ghosts?” he repeated. “They are the spirits that haunt a defunct dormitory. The ghosts roam the campus on occasion, seeking scares to keep their boredom at bay. They are a normal fixture of Night Raven College.”

“I-I see…” Baur fumbled, but managed to clear his throat. An attempt to save face, to look confident. “W-Well! I certainly hope you are thankful that I took the necessary precautions to ensure your safety! Doubtless you would have been able to handle this threat by your lonesome!!”

“Hm?” Ghost A made a face. “… I dunno about you boys, but it looked to me like you were scared of us laying a hand on the kid.”

“Same here,” B said.

“Ditto.”

"N-Nonsense!! What utter nonsense you spout…!” Baur insisted, his volume rapidly climbing, cheeks flaming. “Y-You have NO IDEA what my true intentions may be, but it is most certainly NOT to protect this… this grandson of mine!!”

“Grandfather…”

The ghosts interrupted, each of them cackling loudly.

“Awww, he’s shy!”

“He looks scary, but he’s actually a super good guy deep down. Looks can be deceiving.”

“It’s okay,” Ghost B reassured Baur. “We’ve been around for a while. We know you care without you having to say it.”

“AS I SAID…!”

“… GRANDFATHER!!!” Sebek’s voice crashed like thunder upon the earth. He straightened, his mouth stretched wife as he saluted Baur. “SIR!! I’m most thankful to be under your watchful eye!!”

“Huh?!” The Ramshackle Ghosts glanced at one another.

“I was not sharp enough to sense an enemy sneaking up on me from behind. Hnnngh…! It is frustrating, but I completely confess it was the result of my own inadequacy! Please, grandfather…! I implore you, teach this Sebek your ways!!”

He bowed deeply, his back frighteningly parallel with the ground.

Baur and the ghosts gawked at him.

“Hey, uh… kid? You alright th—”

C’s question was cut off by a rumbling chuckle. Baur folded his arms and straightened himself. He was the drill sergeant, and Sebek, his soldier awaiting molding.

“SO BE IT THEN!!” Baur declared, puffing his chest outward. “I will teach you my ways, since you show such potential.”

Sebek’s eyes sparkled. His cheeks were the delicate pink of rosebuds. “Yes…! I promise I won’t disappoint you, sir!”

“… Is it just me, or is this family a little weird?” A asked the other two ghosts.

“Nope, it’s not just you.”

“This is definitely a weird family.”

[arc-misadventures]

What are Those?! AU: jaune mybe the only dragon faunus in the arc family but just because they don't have the features of a dragon does not mean those humans in the arc family do not have the heart and soul [[ and temper and Sadistic streek ]]of one,

Jacques Schnee finds this out the hard way when he tries to get jaune thrown in jail under false charges so he can take over jaunes business, Jacques Schnee is made an example to the rest of remnant on WHY YA DON'T PISS OFF THE ARC FAMILY

To Shreds You Say?

The tired slowly awoke from its slumber as it heard the soft repetition of several chimes that was its alarm clock. Or, in this case, it was, Jaune Arc’s tone.

The soon to be crowned dragon king rose from his bed, and grabbed his scroll, and register two things: That it was 3:27 in the morning. And, that his father was the one calling him at such an ungodly hour.

Jaune: Yeah…?

The weariness was palpable upon, Jaune’s voice as he yawned. He could see the handsome visage of his father, Acheius Arc staring back at him.

Acheius: ‘Yeah?’ That’s all your pops gets after not seeing him for so long. Not even a ‘hello dad?’

Jaune: Hellos are reserved for those who do not disturb the dead such as you have…

His father gave a short laugh at his comment. He knew his father was just teasing him, but nobody liked being woken up in the middle of the night.

It often meant something unexpected, and unwelcome had happened.

Acheius: See you finally ditched the onesie. About time you grew out of wearing that.

Jaune looked down to see he was bare chested. While he had stopped wearing, the reasons he hadn’t were nothing to do with his father’s words. Mostly.

Jaune: I would still be wearing it dad, but I ‘literally’ grew out of it. That, and I think one of my girlfriends stole it…

He tapped the ever present, and ever growing horns on his head.

Acheius: Ahh yes, your mother mentioned how you were growing more noticeable faunas traits. I must say horns were not on my bingo…?! Wait, did you say ‘girlfriends?’ As in, more than one?

Jaune: Dad while I understand you want to know what’s going on with my life, we both know you didn’t call me this early in the morning to catch up. What is it?

Jaune rubbed his face trying to wipe away the tiredness from his eyes. He father gave him a look before explaining his reasons for waking him up.

Acheius: It’s about that one of your diamond mines.

Jaune: Which mine?

That woke up, Jaune rather quickly. He turned his eyes to fully address his father as he was about to take in every word he was about to say.

Acheuis: The one at north east tip of, Vacuo: Raiders…

Jaune: Raiders Coast. There’s a diamond, and Dust mine located there, as well as a small town whose population mostly works there. What happened; Cave in, Grimm attack, raiders?

While, Jaune was highly protective of his diamond mines, to the point of fanatical, he cared more about the people working in his mines, than the diamonds themselves. A collapsed mine could be mine once again, and reclaimed. Peoples lives however, could not be so easily reclaimed. At most they could give the bodies of the dead a proper burial.

Acheius: A raid happened. Of sorts that is.

Jaune: Of sorts?

Acheius: A group of bandits attacked the mine. Trying to steal the, Dust, not the diamonds. They never touched your diamond vaults.

Jaune: They only went after the, Dust? Odd… They usually go after my diamonds; they’re easier to steal, and fence. Why only the, Dust though.

Acheius: Because they weren’t your typical, ‘raiders.’

Jaune: Explain.

Acheius: They were too organized, and disciplined to be your usual raiders. Not to mention all of them basically carried the same type of equipment: From weapons, to uniforms, to gear. Practically all identical.

Jaune: Identical…? Hmmm…

Jaune racked his mind as he pondered this information. A well organized, armed, and disciplined militia. That was an interesting tidbit of information.

There were dozens of gangs of bandits; large, and small in number strewn all about the desserts of, Vaccuo. But, only a few matched such a description. There was the, Bloody Skulls, they tended to be rather uniform in their appearance. There was the Dune Raiders, they had a lot of standardized equipment under their belts. The Scorpions were another, who followed this same rule, but their members tended to be branded with scorpion tattoos, and if it was one of them his father would have mentioned it. The Crowns had a habit of attacking his, Dust mines. But, just like the rest, he, and his family had hunted them down to extinction.

But, who ever attacked him only attacked the, Dust mine, not the diamond mine. Which left him with only one culprit left. The one person who would do anything do steal one of his, Dust mines.

Jaune: Jacques…

Acheius: Jacques? As in, Jacques Schnee? You think he is behind this?

Jaune: The bastard has been trying to get a foothold into, Vaccuo’s Dust mines for years, not to mention I am his biggest rival. Him taking one of my, Dust mines by force, and gaining a foothold in, Vaccuo is a two birds one stone scenario for him.

Acheius: Hmm… That makes sense. Luna’s been tracking the money that’s been deposited into their coffers, and she said it came from some company called, ‘Hybrid Enterprises.’ They’re registered as a, Atlasian company. Ring any bells?

Jaune: No, I’ve never heard of that company before.

: That’s because its a dummy corporation.

Jaune: A dummy corporation?

Acheius: I-Is someone with you, Jaune?

Jaune: Uhh…?

Jaune felt an arm wrap around his body as a head rested upon his shoulder. He could feel her bare chest against his back as his face was flush red. Not so much because he had a beautiful woman resting against him, more so because he had beautiful woman resting her body against him, and she was naked, and he was in the middle of a video call with his freaking father!

But, other than that things were okay.

Acheius: And… who are you…?

: My name is, Willow, Willow Schnee. You must be, Jaune’s father. Mr…?

Acheius: Acheius Arc…

Jaune: H-How do you know they’re a dummy corporation, Willow?

Jaune decided to take control of the conversation before it went somewhere he did not want it to go.

Willow: Because my… husband founded it. He uses them for all his shady back room deals: Bribery, stealing, blackmail, threats… various deplorable things such as that.

Acheius: It doesn’t surprise me that, that bastard would have such associates under his payroll. So he must have used this dummy corporation to hire these mercenaries.

Willow: They may not be mercenaries per-say. Tell me, did they have any badges on their uniforms, any iconography?

Acheius: No, their uniforms were clean of such items. But, there was a tattoo of a white raven on one severed arms of one of them, does that ring any bells, Mrs. Schnee?

Willow: Hmmm… White ravens…? Ah! Winter’s Cawl. They’re a private military force that’s under the, quote control of, Hybrid Enterprises. Really its under, Jacques’s control as his personal hitman army.

Jaune: He has an army?!

Willow: No, more than a couple hundred strong militia. But, they are well equipped for a group their size.

Jaune: Damn… I need to speed up the timetable for making my own military force then… Wait, severed? Did you cut off that guys arm dad?

Acheius: Ah no, that wasn’t me.

Jaune: Then who did it?

Acheius: Thiriana did it. A gunshot went off, and accidentally clipped her hair, singeing a bit of it, and… you know how protective of their hair they are.

Jaune: Ahhh… That explains that.

A small shiver of fear ran through his body as, Jaune remembered the hell the female members of his family raised when something happened to their hair.

Twas a horrifying sight to see.

Willow: I assume you left some of these ‘bandits’ alive to be interrogated?

Acheius: I tried to do so… but…

Jaune: What did my sisters do?

Acheius: More so what the bandits attempted to do. Several of them were using some of the miners children as hostages, and well, Thiriana, and Janette went feral.

Jaune: Ahh…

Acheius: Yeah…

Jaune: Were they quick?

Acheius: They weren’t quiet…

Jaune: Bloody hell…

Willow: Are all, Arc woman so violent?

JA: Yes.

Willow: Oh my…

Acheius: Unfortunately, we know who did it, but we don’t have any proof to convict, Jacques of ordering this attack on one of your mines.

Jaune: Dammit…

A low growl escaped his lips as he mulled over this information. They had information to convict, Jacques Schnee to various crimes, but they were all speculative however, easily dismissible in a court of law. One more the bastard would get away with things.

Or, so he thought.

A ringing sound soon went off on his father’s scroll, he quirked an eyebrow at the caller before he answered it.

Acheius: It’s your sister.

Jaune: Which one?

Acheius: Luna. I’ll put her on a combined call.

As he said that, Jaune was met with the sight of his sister, Luna who was looking positively radiant as she gave a pearly smile to the camera.

So long as one ignored all the blood on her face.

Luna: Hi Dad! And, hi, Ja…?! Oh… is… is that Mrs. Schnee. Willow Schnee of SDC draped over your shoulder…

Luna: Naked…?

Willow: I seduced a handsome young man that really, really knows how to show a woman a good time~! There’s nothing else to it.

Luna: S-She seduced you…?!

Jaune: No comment.

Luna: But, how did…?!

Jaune: No. Comment.

Luna: I shoved, Jacques into a cell, and you shoved it into his wife… The fuck is going on…?

Acheius: Wait, what did you say, Luna?

Luna: I uhh… I threw, Jacques into a cell.

JA: …

Willow: And, why is he in a jail cell?

Luna: Tried to bribe me for control of one of, Jaune’s, Dust mines. It was a poor bribe so I told him to shove it up his ass. He didn’t take too kind to that, so he told his ‘associates’ to convince me to ‘accept’ his deal. And, well… Long story short; the main office at the, Kantor Mines needs to be remodelled. And, Jacques Schnee is… currently being pelted with tomatoes as he is suspended ten feet in the air in a cage.

Willow: I see… So, how much do I have to pay for his release?

Luna: Ohh direct hit to the groin…

Jaune: Luna.

Luna: Huw? Oh yeah! Let’s see… Damage to the main office at. Kantor Mine. Shouldn’t be much to pay off. About three thousand Lien.

Acheius: You’re forgetting about all the havoc he caused at, Raiders Coast.

Luna: What happened at, Raiders Coast?

Acheius: You didn’t hear? I thought one of your sisters would have told you. It was attacked by a mercenary gang run by the, SDC.

Luna: Ahh, send me a list of the damages, and I’ll make a list of damage fees to send to, Jacques for him to pay.

Acheius: Alright, I’ll go…?

Willow: A moment if you will.

Acheius: What is it, Mrs. Schnee.

Willow: Why don’t you have, Jacques pay off the damages he has committed with some good old… manual labour~?

Jaune: You want him to work off his debt?

Willow: Indeed. The crimes he committed shouldn’t be simply payed off with money, they should be payed off with hard, back breaking labour.

Luna: But, his bill will be in the thousands, possibly the tens of thousands?!

Willow: So he will be working at this debt for years to come? Oh, what a shame.

Acheius: …

Luna: …

Acheius: Okay.

Luna: Seems reasonable.

Acheius: We still have to let, Atlas know that we have him in our custody.

Willow: And, tell them the SDC is doing everything in its power to get his… eventual release. Somewhere between six months to a year.

Luna: Okay, I can do that. Anything else I should tell him?

Willow: No, now if you’ll excuse me, I just got a rather invigorating second wind~!

Jaune: Second wind? What are you… Ahh?!

And, with in his question, Jaune yelped in alarm as he felt a beautiful lady’s hand descend lower to grab something particularly long, and hard in her hand.

Jaune: I-Igottagonowguys.Bye!

And, with that the call was cut on, Jaune’s wnd leaving the father daughter duo to look at each other with bewildered expressions across their faces.

Luna: Uhh… what just happened?

Acheius: I don’t… oh… Oh that’s what happened…

Luna: What happened?

Acheius: Quite simple. Learning that her husband is now in jail, giving, Willow time to take back her company has left her in a euphoric state of mind.

Luna: Oh, good for her. Getting rid of that bastard will do wonders for the world!

Acheius: Luna. She got off to the fact her husband is in jail, and wants to sleep with your brother again…

Luna: Dad, I fucking know that, I just didn’t want to think about my brother sleeping with a woman!

Acheius: Oh…

Acheius: Yeah, I don’t want to think about, Jaune sleeping with a woman your mothers age either.

Luna: The fuck did you have to say THAT?!!

Acheius: Whoops…

[tonkatsubowl]

Can I request something like Yan!Sunday with an innocent/naive reader? Maybe something that includes brainwashing/mindcontrol bc i swear sunday is not normal

(only if you want to do this req ofc!)

you decided to visit the shopping center of penacony to buy a few things for your significant other. you had a few dinner ideas in mind, and because of the stress that piles up from yandere sunday, he sometimes never has time to take you out to a nice place to eat, or even cook you something. you didn't mind that at all, considering you were understanding of his situation.

besides, you didn't know that sunday practically had his eye on you no matter what. every move, every breath you take—he tracked.

as you went through the shopping area, you had a small little basket you carried that already had a few items in it. from vegetables to small ingredients to make dessert... you were humming one of robin's music to yourself as you wandered about, putting things in your little basket.

as you continued to shop, you were approached by a stranger. a man in particular, who seemed to have caught his eye when wandering about, too.

"hey there!" he enthusiastically said, beaming brightly, "how are you doing?"

"oh! hello!" you say with a smile, "i'm doing well. i'm just shopping for dinner right now."

"ah, dinner?" he tilted his head, looking at the items in your basket, "making something for yourself?"

"oh, it's not just for me," you shook your head, "it's for my boyfriend too."

there was a bit of bitterness in the man's eyes, but you didn't seem to notice.

"boyfriend, huh? how about you make me something too?"

you blinked, before sheepishly smiling, shaking your head, "ah, i'm sorry. i could get you a small snack or something... what would you like?"

you were incredibly naïve, and the stranger found it admirable. he approached you a bit closer. "well, you can definitely get me a snack, alright. your boyfriend won't know about it."

you blinked again, head tilted to the side. you weren't sure what he meant but you decided to brush his comment off. "well, um... what would you like? there's chips, and—"

"there you are, my dove."

sunday's voice occurred behind you, his arm gracefully wrapped around your hip. the stranger seemed to have recognized sunday, seeing his face with robin all over the streets of penacony. this man... this man was your significant other?

"oh, sunday!" you smiled innocently.

"what's going on here?" asked-he, looking towards the stranger with darkness apparent in his gaze.

"oh, he was just asking me if i could get a snack for him. since you're here," you looked to the stranger, "my boyfriend knows now!"

sunday didn't have to know the context behind what happened, because he already knew everything. he smiled at the stranger but there was an aura of murderous intent.

the stranger began to sweat, before bowing apologetically. "i-i'm sorry. i'll leave now."

he left in a hurry, leaving you and sunday alone. you blinked out of confusion, before looking to sunday.

"huh? i thought i was gonna buy him some chips or-"

"(y/n)." he says in a low voice. "please, do not do that again."

"do what?" your head tilts.

he slowly reaches up, brushing his hand against the side of your face. digits gently brush against your skin, tracing down across your jawline.

"you see, people here are dangerous in penacony. they approach you for needs, or even something worse... a trap, even." his grip tightens around your face, but you didn't move. he wasn't hurting you.

"i suggest that you stay indoors while i am gone."

you blinked again, confusion evident upon your visage, "stay indoors? at your home?"

sunday nodded. "correct. for your safety, i much prefer that you don't leave at all. that is... if you are okay with it."

there was something about his words that made you feel reluctant, but you understood, thinking that he was just looking out for you. you were lost in his eyes for a moment, as though something within was calling out to him... listening to his words.

"... okay!" you beamed. "when would i get to leave?"

"whenever i think it's safe for you, my dear. whenever i tell you it's okay to leave home, then you'll be able to leave, but only for a short period of time. or when i am with you."

you nodded, "alright, but... short period of time? what do you mean by that?"

sunday gave a low, dangerous chuckle, "you can't be out for too long. i worry for your safety."

"i-i see. alright. i understand, so you don't have to worry about that."

sunday nods, "of course. i'll be right here with you."

for the rest of the hour, you finished your shopping and went home with sunday. however, the moment you entered the vicinity, you didn't realize sunday had locked the doors from the inside. you weren't allowed to leave. no matter what. not until what your boyfriend tells you.

"so, what did you buy?" questioned the halovian.

"i bought some ingredients for dinner! i figured i would make something for the both of us, since you're busy with work and i know how stressful it can get."

sunday's gaze softened as he approached you, pressing his lips against the side of your head. "thank you, love. you didn't have to do all of that."

you laugh, nuzzled into his affection as you placed the ingredients on the counter. "will you be leaving soon? i mean, how did you know i was there?"

"ah, i just had a feeling." a lie. he was watching you. "and i figured i'd come by to grab a small beverage or two on my break, then i saw you."

"oh! perfect timing then."

"now, i should get going. remember what i said, (y/n). you are not to leave."

you nodded, smiling brightly at him. "i won't!"

a look of satisfaction appears on the man's face before he disappears into the hallway, the doors closing behind him, ultimately leaving you alone.