#but the petals... raised satin??

[potatoesandsunshine]

flower time :)

[rizsu]

the aftermath of being turned into an ex jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru.

gojo's a man of commitment. if rounding up a ‘band’ to serenade you into taking him back is what'll do the trick, then he'll organize it.

+ extra. this is meant to be unserious dont attack me for mischaracterization n shi 😞

“we're done.”

“we are not!”

in the end, he got kicked out. due to the shame he felt by being kicked out of a house he once lived in, satoru actually leaves. don't party too soon though, he's going to come back within five hours.

the plan he had in mind was simple: go to the department store, buy some roses, a poster, led lights, a table, some chocolates, and hire a band. for this the budget will be endless.

you thought you got rid of satoru but little did you know that he still has his share of keys. with that trick up his sleeve, he unlocks the gate, sneaking in everyone and the props.

satoru wasn't able to hire a band, but he was able to get a substitute. you see, todo, inumaki, and yuuji have hidden talents. they can all play instruments and one can sing! he always knew there was a reason why he's proud of his students.

quietly, the four men set the stage that's actually your front yard. in the center holds the white table with a black satin cloth delicately placed on it. the three bouquets of roses sit beautifully on the table. some petals were picked out and carefully spotted as well. on the table's center held the chocolate and wine — your favourite wine, to be exact. the finishing touch is the led lights. they're circling the ground, illuminating it with a soft yellow glow.

at the right and left sides of the table are inumaki and yuuji. inumaki's holding a wooden guitar while yuuji holds the hand drum. todo's position is in front of the table but a little off-center. he's holding the microphone, ready to pour his heart out on the song.

the star, satoru, is the one in the center. one hand hides behind his back. it's holding another rose bouquet with hundred-dollar bills wrapped with the roses. his free hand holds his phone. as soon as the clock strikes 7:00PM, he's going to call you. everything should play out perfectly.

anxiously watching his wristwatch switch from 6:59 to 7:00, he immediately calls you. one, two, three, six rings later you answered.

“you. i forgot to block you.”

“excuse me?” satoru scoffs, “whatever, i'm not calling for that.”

“chop chop then. i don't have all night.”

“can you come outside?”

“no. i will be calling the police.”

“OH C'MON,” he whines, getting desperate. “please? after this i'll leave you alone. promise.”

“...”

yuuji painfully watches. he feels incredibly sorry for his teacher. he doesn't deserve this!

“i don't think this is going good,” yuuji whispers to the boys, moving his head side-to-side.

todo raises his fist, gesturing to the boys to have some faith. “let's put our hopes high.”

they watch satoru closely. his hand that held the phone dramatically dropped to his side. slowly, he turns his head to face the boys behind him. his face breaks their hearts. he's pouting with eyes nearing tears — a pain only males like them can understand!

before satoru can say something, the front door clicks open. as it swings open aggressively, you made yourself tonight's main star unwillingly. you were not dressed for whatever this occasion is. your front yard has been ruined, your ex is there, three of his students you've met a few times, and while they're in suits, you're in a fancy robe with fluffy indoor slippers.

your eyebrows crease together, just when did they do all of this?! maybe it's time to install cameras.

“satoru, what the fuck did you do to my—”

“shh, tonight it's just you and him,” todo cuts you off, switching the mic on and beginning his performance. inumaki tunes the guitar and starts stringing random strings in hopes that they sound good. yuuji follows by tapping a simple “dun-da-da-dun-dun” beat on the drums.

your mouth's now opened. baffled by the sight, you stood there motionless.

“i have died every day waiting for you~”

as todo sings, satoru walks up to you, cheekily smiling at your shocked expression.

you back away from him, eyebrows still furrowed at whatever's going on.

“darling, don't be afraid~”

at this lyric, satoru takes the opportunity to shove his phone back into his pocket and grab your wrist. although you attempted to wriggle free, you are no match for his strength. gently, he pulls you into the yard.

both your eyes lock on each other. you search his eyes for emotions, he searches yours for any signs of longing. it's not there, he thinks. he feels a pinch in his heart, but it won't stop him. sending you a wink, he pulls you closer to the table.

“i have loved you for a thousand years (ooh)~”

“seriously, what's all this bullshit?!” you whisper-yelled at him, using your other hand to point at the table.

satoru simply shrugs.

“i'll love you for a thou-sand more (ooh, yeah)~”

todo ends his singing, clapping along with the other two to end the performance. it was the most touching thing he's ever done besides gifting yuuji and his idol a trio matching keychains set.

satoru coughs three times in attempts to hide his laugh. this has probably been the most unserious yet serious he's ever been, but his perfomance doesn't end there. he still has something else to whip out.

“baby—”

“that's not my name,” you cut him off.

“anyway. as i was saying,” he stops, revealing the rose bouquet with multiple hundred-dollar bills. “all of these are yours.”

your eyes bulge, but you quickly regain yourself.

“i'm not going to be won over with some roses and money.”

“there's wine and chocolates too,” yuuji says, immediately shutting up after you shot him a look.

inumaki stands awkwardly. he feels immense second-hand embarrassment. to counter such feelings, he starts playing the guitar again.

satoru cups the side of your face with his hand. his thumb caresses your cheek as he locks his eyes on yours again.

“i was serious about not breaking up, y'know,” he softly speaks, “i know i'm pushing it and all that stuff but i don't think i can leave you.”

it's once again your turn to be speechless. at this point, you're sure that there's no way all of this is happening in one night.

since you won't take hold of the bouquet, satoru places it in your hand. to solidify it even more, he lifts your other hand to place a kiss on it.

“what level of romance is this?” again, yuuji speaks. this time, it's satoru who gestures him to quiet down.

inumaki's still playing the out-of-tune guitar, enjoying the way the wind gently blows. it's truly a beautiful night. under the full moon's light, you and satoru glow together.

todo gears up for another round of singing. he immediately does a dragged-out “ooh~” adlib. this, however, wasn't going to last as long as his previous one did.

“NO — no more, please. you have a wonderful voice but i've heard enough. please.” you turned around to todo, begging him to mute the mic and possibly himself.

“and you,” you turn back to face satoru, “clean this up, get the boys home safely, and then come back.”

after that, you walked back to inside your house with the bouquet, making it satoru's turn to be left speechless. he still didn't win you over with some roses and money (wine and chocolates too) but his stupid commitment to keeping the relationship is what did.

[zephyrchama]

Quick Leviathan fluff that got out of control (1.4k words). SFW with suggestive aspects, MC's gender isn't mentioned.

---🧵🪡---

Ever since the release of the new Hana Ruri: Transparent Tarot Arc promotional video, Leviathan had make himself scarce. He'd erratically come out for food once in a while or grab an Akuzon package within minutes of it being delivered, but you hadn't received so much as a text from him in a week.

A mechanical whirring sometimes emanated from his room - the sound of a sewing machine at work. The occasional Sucre Frenzy song would accompany it. Nobody was worried, but it at least let everyone know the Avatar of Envy was still alive. Sometimes you'd peek in to make sure he was okay and leave a sandwich at the door. It gets lonely without him though, and eventually you went to talk with him.

The room was chilly, with the AC cranked up high. Leviathan was sitting on the ground, facing the door but blind to everything except the materials in front of him. Rolls of lace and ribbon, jars of sparkling cabochons, cases full of colorful thread and assorted sewing needles. With an impressed "woah!" you moved some empty boxes aside and sat down across from him to get a better look.

He jumped. "Gah! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"I knocked."

"I'm busy right now. I have to finish this, it's almost ready." Leviathan glanced at his desk.

A nearly exact replica of Ruri's new PV outfit was laid out next to his PC setup. It was gorgeous. Each piece had been painstakingly recreated and carefully set out over the empty flat surfaces in his room. Fully lined with a glittering beaded trim. The base fabric had a high quality sheen even in the dim light of Levi's room, with satin stitched silk applique petals accenting the skirt.

You admired the handiwork. Then, you admired its maker. Leviathan was carefully stitching fabric flowers to a hat with intense focus. He relied on holding in small, shallow breaths to prevent his hands from shaking. He was blinking more than usual, fighting off the accumulated sleep deprivation. It marred his handsome face with dark eye bags.

You sat next to him for a while and stared. The usually shy Leviathan was too engrossed in his crafting to pay any mind. The more focused he got, the more he frowned, accentuating the wrinkles around his mouth.

"Yeah... you need a break."

"Not now." He picked up a thin awl and poked some holes where the seam was particularly thick.

Talking was futile, you quickly noted that nothing you said would make a difference, so you watched. Every few minutes, a portion of Leviathan's long bangs fell in front of his eyes and he'd blow them out of the way. He flinched when you gently swept them out of the way, as though he forgot you were there.

He huffed. "Like I said! I just have to finish this, so leave me alone. I'm almost done."

The exhaustion was clearly taking over. You hated seeing Leviathan like this, a cold grumpy shell of his normally warm and passionate self.

You intercepted his hand when he reached for another bushel of flowers. His fingertips were calloused and dotted with red indents from hand sewing thousands of stitches without a thimble. It looked painful. No wonder he was working so slowly.

"Levi..."

You lightly traced over his damaged fingertips before weaving your fingers together. You gave his hand a squeeze and his expression slightly eased.

"You're so soft," he grumbled, then fiercely shook his head. "I have to keep working, let go."

That was out of the question. You were determined to break him and force him to rest. You held on and rubbed your thumb on his.

"Ghh, stop!"

Leviathan could easily push you away, but he didn't. Instead, he raised your entwined hands to his face and pressed them against his cheek. "I'm so tired."

"I know."

"You smell so good. It's distracting."

"Thanks. Your dress is pretty."

"It's not... it's... not enough..." Tears appeared in the corners of his eyes. "I can't find the right iridescent fabric so the colors will look off in the sunlight, and my shoulders are too broad so the silhouette of the top looks weird. So to compensate I made the sleeves bigger with more poof but I had to add more darts and you can see there are more seam lines here than in the reference image. And the buttons would look better with a wooden texture but all I had on me to make them was resin, which bubbled on the back, so what if their structural integrity is weake--"

Levi eeped, stiffening as you leaned into a tight hug. You were glad he was talking to you. But he was overthinking, and frustrated. Stressed, and more than anything he needed to take a break.

You expressed as much, scooting back while holding his shoulders at arm's length. "You might think it sucks, but this costume is all you've been doing. You haven't looked at anything else in a week so you've got nothing to compare it to. It's so gorgeous, Levi. Every stitch. Take a break with me and I'll help you finish it in the morning. You'll see how amazing it really is. Okay?"

A tear drop slid down his face, he quickly wiped it away. Leviathan avoided your gaze by staring at his creation, unwilling to walk away while it remained unfinished. "I'm so tired," he repeated.

"Hana Ruri-tan would want you to take a nap. And I want you to take a nap."

Leviathan frowned again, having no logical way to refute that statement. You let him tidy up a few final things as you inspected his bed-tub.

Scraps of spare fabric dangled over the sides. You picked up his sheets to brush off loose threads, plucking out a few loose pins in the process. Pillows were fluffed. Extra fabric was put on a hanger and moved elsewhere. Rolls of ribbon were wound back up. It was kind of relaxing.

Leviathan was rushing to glue a rhinestone when you called him over, his last-ditch attempt to get one more thing finished. You let him spend another couple of minutes waiting for the paste to get tacky. Once it was finally secured in place on the hat brim, he thankfully didn't object any further. After wiping his hands clean he flopped magnificently into bed.

Not even five seconds passed by before he griped, "I can't fall asleep. I can't stop thinking about the costume. I should finish it now."

"Nooo, no, no. No. Move over, you're not getting up. I'm getting in." You slipped into the tub before he could pick himself up, draping your legs over his. "The hat can wait until morning. Then we can get pics of everything, too."

Leviathan sighed in stubborn agreement. His orange eyes, puffy and a little irritated, were looking right at you for the first time that evening.

"You'll let me think about you then, right?" he asked quietly. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand bunching up the fabric on the back of your shirt while the other grazed against your bare skin. His rough fingers traced along your spine. You made a mental note to help him bandage them later.

Pulling you flush against his upper body, he nudged his face into the side of your neck and slid his lips up your shoulder. You hooked an arm under his to gently comb through his hair, resting your chin against his head. It tickled a little, but you felt each passing breath get heavier and slower as your comforting scent lulled Leviathan into much-needed sleep. You soon followed his lead.

Come morning, Leviathan had you in a tight grip while you blearily woke up on top of him. His wandering hands had found their way up your shirt during the night and one of his legs was thrown over yours. You had planned the surprise of getting up early to finish his hat for him, but at this point a surprise morning snuggle was all you could manage.

"Hmmh? What... oh!" Levi woke quickly, with the intense determination of someone ready to finish the cosplay they've been crunching for a week straight. He looked so much better with color returned to his face. Too much color, perhaps, as the more he let go of you the redder his blush became.

"I'll be... uh... bathroom." He dragged himself out of the tub and quickly walked towards the hall, failing miserably to cover his blatant embarrassment.

"Wait! Can I start working on some things while you're gone?" you asked, motioning towards the nearly-finished costume.

Leviathan nodded. "Uh, yeah...? Go ahead."

"And you'll try it all on for me when you get back, right?"

With a full night's rest behind him and the finish line in clear sight, the giddiness of an exciting new cosplay was returning and Leviathan gave a cheerful "yeah... Ok, yeah! I'll be right back, so don't go anywhere!"

[namjoonboo]

Jungkook nsfw imagine.

Jungkook x top male reader NSFW drabble

hi I know I haven't updated in a while, and I decided to write something so I can get motivated to get some of my requests done.

...

Imagine jungkook really wanting to have sex with you, like to the point that bro is planning everything.

Imagine walking into you and jungkook shared bedroom to see the whole room to be decorated with rose petals, silk/satin bed sheets, and candles everywhere.

He wouldn't have noticed that you walked into the room yet as his back was facing you.

"Kookie, what in the world is this." You would say as you felt your eyebrow raise in confusion. You would lean against the doorframe while observing the room.

And jungkook would be so caught off guard. He would turn around to see your confused face.

"Oh uh, hi [name]! I-I just.." poor jungkook would stuttered in between his words as his eyes would be looking all over the place.

As you would approach him, he felt like every step you took was deadly. He felt his heart beat so fast that it could pop out of his chest.

"Did you really plan all of this? What did you want me to fuck you?" You would say looking at jungkook embarrassed flushed face.

"I-... maybe.." jungkook would say as he fidgeted with his hands not knowing what to do.

Poor boy couldn't even look into your eyes 😭

You would find this so; interesting. Your boyfriend setting all of this up for you to fuck him? That's just so adorable.

"Hey look at me." You would say grabbing his chin so he could look at you. He would lick his lips and he would finally look at you in the eyes.

"You really didn't have to do all of this for me to fuck you right?" You would tease him as pointing at all of the stuff he put in your guys shared bedroom.

"Yeah I know. But I also got something else." Jungkooks words would make your eyebrows raise. "Hm?"

Jungkook would sigh in embarrassment as he took off his hoodie to reveal a very sexy lingerie. It was a very dark red shade highlighting his chest.

"Oh my?" You would say as you would look at the lingerie while chuckling.

"Stop laughing [name]. Just fuck me already. I spent so much time doing all of this."

Let's just say that his wish was granted 😋

...

Made by namjoonboo on 2023 August 10th.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c12. No shoes.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Ancora, Ancora, Ancora, Mina.

abstract: every time I look back at this chapter I smile a little. just a little. it's cause I'm Jude, Simon would never say he smiled. I think it was a turning point for us, you know? Something switched at some point. try not to get too worked up reading this cause i know for a fact he was thinking some indecent thoughts, aye… enjoy.

He looked at her move around the room, getting in position to dance. She looked like a wolf hunting for a bunny. He was the bunny. He looked at her legs, in pink tights. Her defined muscles were flexing visibly at each movement. On her feet, shiny satin pointe shoes. She had a black leotard on, he could see her ribs when she arched her back to crack it. She had a skirt, black as well and short, didn't do a good job at hiding the top part of her legs. He looked at the gentle curve of her hips. He could see multiple tattoos on her arms. A dagger on her left forearm, what looked like an old car doodle on the other arm. She had a lavender flower tattoo on the skin between her breasts. There was a drawing of a house on fire, it looked like it was on fire. A tarot card. Death.

She was looking at herself in the mirror, she stomped her foot on the ground a few times. Those shoes sounded heavy. She raised herself on pointe, wiggling her feet together. She looked like she was trying to remember the steps. Her arms draw figures in the air, she looked like a sorceress. She kept changing directions, switching positions. He wished he could snap pictures of her every time she fixed her head straight, or moved her leg, or arched her back. She had a concentrated expression, her mouth slightly open. She put her weight on her right leg and raised herself on pointe, turning on one foot. Two turns, he counted. She looked lost in thought again, she had her back to him. Her leotard left her back exposed, the fabric low on her behind. She had a beautiful spine tattoo, which he was terribly impressed from. It was a flower, the stem extender on her spine. It opened with big petals near her shoulder blades and at the base of her neck. From that position, she swung one of her legs up, her muscles flexing. She held up her leg for a few seconds, then proceeded to connect her toe to her knee cap. He could have stayed frozen in that position looking at her for days. He imagined himself waking towards her, caging her waist with his hands, feeling the fabric that covered her legs, feeling her bare back with his fingertips. He imagined himself dancing with her and effortlessly lifting her up, her arms around his neck, her chest against his own.

He wanted to feel the pearly sweat on her forehead, the hair that fell from her bun on her neck, ear her quick laboured breaths. He could have sworn she was floating, her feet never really touching the ground. Her arms drew beautiful circles in the air. He let his eyes wonder and take in all of her, like she was going to vanish like a fever dream. From the tip of her pointy nails, her shoulders, the curve of her ass, her thighs and those pointe shoes. Her eyes were fixated on her reflection, in a deep state of focus. He waited until she looked like she was done, she was breathing heavily from a few jumps she had repeated until she got them perfect like she wanted. He watched her dip one hand in the space between her breasts to fix her leotard which was sticking with sweat, that was when he decided he could not watch her anymore. He timidly took a step forward and knocked on the door frame.

She jumped and turned towards him, startled. When she realised it was him, she covered her mouth with her perfect little hand, fuck Jude what are you doing to me? '*Maronn, m'e fatt fa' o giall…'* she said. He could't understand what she said, but he thought she meant 'you scared the living shit out of me.' 'Sorry?' he replied, still standing by the door. She shook her head. How long has he been watching? She felt incredibly exposed. That stupid skirt didn't cover anything, she felt like she wanted to rip his eyes out for seeing her in that state. She was covered in sweat, she probably stank, her bun was falling apart cause she took out all the pins that were piercing her scalp. 'I'm serious, you can't do that to people, I thought I was going to piss myself.' It made him smile, she was so unserious, yet her expression was still of pure shock. He threw his hands in the air in an apologetic way. He took a step in the room, but she raised an hand.

'No shoes', she instructed. He rolled his eyes but complied. 'What are you doing here?' She was sitting down next to her bag, untying her laces. He stepped close to her in his socks, looking down at where she was sitting. 'I wanted to know how it went with that girl…' he said. She looked up before removing her point shoe. He wanted to know? So he took a car at seven in the evening, and drove all the way to her ballet school, he even remembered where it was located, just to ask about updates on the bullying situation. He still had a mask on. So he always covered his face, why? 'Oh… all good, I solved it.' I heard, he thought. She removed her toe pads, hissing in pain. He crunched down, looking at her foot. Her toe was bleeding, there was redness all over her skin, blue veins popping out. The shape of the shoe was imprinted on her skin from wearing it for a long time. It wasn't an amazing sight, he had to admit. 'What's that?' he asked pointing at the blue second skin patches she had on her foot. She had secured them with scotch tape. 'Second skin… for blisters' she answered. She threw away the dirty patches along with the tape and took a look at her bleeding toe. She fished a bandaid out of her bag and continued with her other foot, which was as terrifying as the first one. He had his scars and she had hers then. Signs of the battlefield. It made him wonder how her face never showed discomfort, while she was dancing.

'Doesn't it hurt? The shoe', he asked. She gave him a little smile. She wasn't wearing as much make up as usual, her lashes looked natural, arched upwards, her skin was glistening with sweat, now that he was closer he could see her freckles better, one on the side of her nose, one on her cheek. She handed him a pointe shoe. 'Feel how hard it is' she said, then proceeded to take the other one and tap it on the ground. 'I stand on this for hours, barefoot'. He squished the shoe between his fingers, feeling the hard tip. Impressive. Was it wood inside? Or cement? 'Why are you really here?' She stood up, and so did he. She was tiny without her precious high boots. Standing barefoot in front of him, barely dressed, he decided she was 5'2''. I could crush you with a finger, he thought. He could wrap his hand around her torso, circling her whole waist. She was frowning, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights. She wasn't scared, she just stood in between him and the mirror. One step foreword, I would crush and you'd be trapped. 'I told you, I wanted to know how yesterday's situation ended.' It wasn't a total lie. It made him feel awkward, seeing her embarrassed and he wanted to believe her apologies were sincere. He was annoyed yesterday, he had to admit. He knew she couldn't leave Gemma alone out there, it was just inconvenient timing. He didn't want to be in that situation, he made a mistake entering that car to begin with. His feet had dragged him to one of the cars, he drove all the way to the school, he saw it open, lights on. He saw bodies moving on the first floor, he saw young girls in ballet attire. He saw her through the windows. He looked at her walking in between them, her judging eyes. He couldn't pick up on what she was saying but he was sure her words cut like knifes. The way her lips moved, her expression dark. He imagined her loving control, loving the idea of being in charge and telling her students what they had to do. And when they failed. She looked at him, she was studying him. 'You don't look like the type to gossip', she rested both her hands on her hips. 'You don't know the first thing about me… Alba.'

There he said it. I know you now. Her expression quickly shifted, her eyes wide in shock. He could smell her fear. What the fuck, how? She felt compromised. She felt like he was entering her safe space uninvited. She felt violated. I have to pack my things and leave again. 'How…' she spoke, but a voice called for her from the changing rooms. It was another teacher, jazz class. 'Alba I'm done here, I'll see you Friday!' She quickly shouted back that she was on her way out, her eyes still fixated on his, trying to depict why he knew her fake name. He was amused. 'I heard Gemma say it on her way out', he explained. She looked like she was about to panic. Either punch him, run away or stab him in the neck with a hair pin. She still didn't feel at ease, even though the explanation made sense. It's not the real one, he thought he figured it out, he doesn't know it's fake. It's fine, let him believe he found it, it's fake. She tried to change the subject. 'Did you eat yet?'

'What?'

'I wanna go eat.'

'...what?'

A tiny pause. 'Burger?'

Now, did it take long to convince him to go eat with her? No. Was he still debating while driving her to the nearest burger place he could think of? Yes. Of course. He made the same mistake twice, which was being in a confined space with her. So close he could feel her breath, see the hair on her arms. This wasn't his life at all. He could't remember the last time he went out to a restaurant with a girl, he rarely went out with his teammates, let alone someone else. What even was she to him, a coworker? He would normally be at the base, doing some paperwork, studying the next mission. He would normally be caged in his office, or his room with a book and a cigarette. That was his normal. It wasn't normal to think about her, to visit her office, to want to talk to her. The fact is, he really wasn't thinking when he was with her. He wan't pondering his decisions, he wasn't considering implications, he just did what he wanted. He didn't feel like he needed to be ready to fight, and that would most definitely get him killed sooner or later. And he wanted to know her, cause she seemed so full of shit all the time, it had to be an act. He thought she was a time bomb. She created such a halo of mystery around her, he needed to know. She didn't belong there, she was there for a specific reason, why?

They sat down at a table for two, far from the entrance, which he was grateful for. He didn't like going out in public. He had a grey balaclava on, plain grey no print. He kept the hood of his shirt on his head and sat with his shoulders to the restaurant. She had changed, before going out. She went into the changing rooms, quickly refreshed herself in the toilet. Thank God she had deodorant with her. She stripped of her leotard and tights, her outfit wasn't really going to be elegant. She put on sweats and an oversized jumper, she had running shoes on. She tried to fix her hair, ended up letting them fall on her shoulders. She looked at the menu, or better pretended to look at the menu. She was looking at him. It didn't sound right at all, he was lying to her. He was there for a specific reason. She kept thinking at him in the truck, trying to remember which way the dance school was. Did you look it up online? Did you remember from last night, did you think about last night? They stayed silent until they came to take their order. He ordered a burger with bacon and onions, she went with a cheeseburger with hot sauce. When the waitress left they were alone again, looking at each other with serious faces without saying a word. It felt like they were studying each other. They were Trojans and Achaeans. Alba was a female version of Achilles, son of Thetis and Peleus. The hero of grief and sorrow. The hero of rage. The rage that made him famous, the same rage that killed him. Simon was Hector. Son of Priam, king of Troy. The proctor of the city. The first of the soldiers, the greatest. Loved by his people, ready to serve them. Alba had read and translated a good portion of the Iliad at school. Spoiler alert, Achilles kills Hector in a horrifying way and drags his naked body around Troy.

'Why are you looking at me like that?' he was the first to speak. She scoffed. Sorry Simon, I was thinking about tying your leg to my chariot and dragging you around naked. 'Because I think you're full of shit.' She replied. He tilted his head downwards.

'You're the one that's hiding her identity.'

'Says the guy with the face mask.'

'Well, I know your name now.'

'Oh scary, I can start crying if you want.'

They looked at each other for a few more seconds in silence. I could do this all day, that's what he thought. 'If you came here just to tell me to stop with the Al-Jareena stuff I got the message.' He stopped her, 'I know, it's fine', he said. She closed her mouth. You wanna talk Simon, talk. He looked like he was finding the right words, he looked like he was struggling. She understood. He wanted to let her know he wasn't mad for forcing him into her car. He looked for her, drove 30 minutes to see her and tell her. 'Okay…' she said, her voice soft 'Thanks.' She took a sip of water from her glass. He was tense in his chair. She thought this wasn't really his comfort zone, he didn't strike her as the social type. With them, only 4 tables were full. It was a Thursday, not much fun going on in the city. She was glad, she looked like she had just ran a marathon and fished her clothes from a trashcan. Typical Thursday outfit.

'Alba', he said. She felt a shiver travel down her spine. She had almost forgot. Her name. She crossed her arms agains her chest and sighed, sitting back in her chair, waiting for him to speak.

'Tell me about The Pilgrimage.'

notes: I LOVE THEM

notes: 'Maronn, m'e fatt fa' o giall…' Naples dialect for: 'My god you made me piss myself', to use when you're scared.

notes: Trojans and Achaeans (Greeks) fought the Trojan war in the Iliad (Homer). Alba is definitely a greek mythology fan. as you might have gathered she is, in fact, Italian. in the Italian school system, there is a particular set of studies that revolve around Greek and Latin mythology, literature, history and translations. she went to that school and to this day dreams about the last conversation between Hector and his wife Andromache which is, trust me, an heart wrenching goodbye from the husband. expect more mythology Easter eggs ehehe.

noted: alba's back tattoo is a thistle flower

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me

[karmaxella]

Bubbles & Surprises (1/2)

characters: Yoshida Hirofumi x fem!reader

content: MDNI, smut, dirty talking (?), fingering and pussy eating.

wc: 1.2k

a/n: i sincerely apologize if this didn’t GIVE, but i try my best to give the best descriptions lmaoo. pls enjoy 🤍

You place yourself onto the bed with your satin bathrobe wrapped around your body, flipping through the Vogue pages.

You wait for that special person in your robe, wanting to surprise him with the stuff you got in the bathroom for the both of you.

"Babes, where are you?!" Speaking of the devil.

You carefully sit up, not wanting to reveal yourself too much as you see the door opened. Yoshida is standing there with a shopping bag, and you look him up and down, waiting for the unknown suspicious thing he has in his hand to reveal itself.

"Why do you have a shopping bag in hand?" you raised a brow at him.

"Why are you in your bathrobe?" he mocks you.

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You get up from the bed, walking to him, steadily, as you grab ahold of his tie that's dangling from the collar of his shirt.

You grip it and aggressively pull it down, making him match your height since he's too tall for your liking. Yoshida snickers at you with his hands latching onto your hips, bringing you closer to him as he inhales your sweet scent.

His favourite perfume you always wear, that never fails to intoxicate him.

"Can I see?" You whisper into his lips, gesturing to the bag.

"After you tell me why you're wearing your bathrobe," he chuckles against the tip of your plumped lips.

A sly, playful grin spreads across your lips. "Let me show you," you pull softly on his hand, leading him to the bathroom. You push him in front of you, making him open the door himself. "Open it and see," you leaned into his back, smacking his ass, in a frisky way.

This causes him to let out a sigh, but a small smirk appeared onto his lips.

"This isn't your way of impressing me, is it?" he peeked over his shoulder, watching you only hide your face into his rigid back. You smile against his clothed-skin, wanting him just to hurry up and open the door.

Yoshida turns the doorknob, pushing the door open as he sees vermilion petals on the floor. A slight chuckle leaves him and continues to see the surprise reveal. The seconds pass when It's fully revealed to him, but he isn't satisfied yet. Not yet.

He turns to you, grabbing your hand and places a small, wet kiss onto your skin. And he hums into your skin, inhaling the sweet scent of yours through his nose. His hums only encourage you to explore him as well. Your free hand goes to his ebony hair, bringing him closer to you.

He leans down to your height, burying his head into the crook of your neck. His tongue runs along the sweet spot of yours, making you let out a soft gasp from his wet lips.

The familiar sensation comes out to play in your gut, making you clutch your thighs against the sleek fabric of your robe.

"Get on the counter…" Yoshida whispers, "but slides this thing off."

"I want to see the body I've adored so much… I want to see everything," he speaks into your ear.

You untie the rope wrapped around you, as the robe slides off your shoulders, letting it fall down to the floor. Your body is exposed to your lover, as he watches you in awe. It was more like gratification, to be more precise.

He undoes his belt along with his button, sliding off his pants. Throwing off his shirt with him walking to you, leaning down to grab your thighs. You jump onto him, hooking your legs around his waist.

Your lips meet his, immediately, as you kiss him hard, letting him know you're his. He walks to the counter with his hands gripping into the skin of your cheeks, placing you on the cold marble.

"You look ready for me down here… Just from how fucking wet you are," he hums into your lips.

You only moan into his mouth with his thumb running along your clit, making you furrow your brows in pleasurement. Your gut is tightening with the only touch of his thumb, making you bite your lower lip with you humming out moans.

"More?" he whispers.

But before you could respond, he inserted two of them at a slow pace. “Oh, my… God," you lift yourself a bit, trying to escape his fingers from doing it's work.

His fingers began to fleet a bit faster, making you let out half gasps from your lips. Your gut is clinching with your legs tightening around Yoshida, making you want more than just his fingers.

When you're not watching Yoshida's lips dove down to your wetness, as he goes on his knees with his lips sucking on the sensitivity of your slit. He knows you're naughty when he's not home, and you only do these kinds of surprises when you want him, his love, his body, his sex.

You wanted everything in him.

Your hand goes down to his hair, grasping it with your hips rocking faster than his tongue. Your legs try to close and clench around his head, but he pulls them apart with your clit in display. And he didn't waste the opportunity to suck on that little nip of your pussy, sending you on edge and off to your climax.

"S-slow… Baby, slow," you whined.

You begged him not to make you cum just yet, because you want to fulfil him too. But Yoshida never listens to you and your whines, knowing he wants to make you more sensitive than last time.

He wants to hear you beg him to stop overstimulating you and your poor clit, knowing you're sensitive the first time. His hand slaps your thigh with a moan leaving your lips, making whine into your mouth as your legs shake out of pleasure.

“Fuuck… Me.”

Yoshida pulls away from your folds, running his index finger along the wetness of your plumped lips, before placing a delicate kiss on them. He rubs your clit once more, feeling your soaking wet folds go onto his fingertips. With his two fingers began to pump faster into you, making sinful noises from you.

“You hear that?” Yoshida lets out a soft snicker. “That’s you… So fucking wet,” he leans down to your lips.

You grab his jaw and bring his face close to yours, kissing every inch of his swollen lips. Your hands go to his hair, messing it up with your fingers with your legs wrapped around his waist.

You moan into his lips, furrowing your brows as your arouse rises in your body. Yoshida picks you up and walks towards the bathtub, where the water is freshly poured and hot. Not super hot, but at the perfect temperature.

“In you go,” he leans down to place you in the warm water, as he gets in as well.

He sighs out of enjoyment when he dips himself into the water, as the bubbles surround his chest. And you crawl to him with the goosebumps going all over your body, as you climb into his lap. He cups your ass cheeks, waiting for you to insert yourself onto him. You stroke his shaft underneath the water, lifting yourself up more, and continue to play with his tip and your entrance.

“No teasing, baby,” he kissed your collarbone, moving your hips down as you lift up yourself, almost immediately.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you chuckle.

You lower your face down to his lips, licking the wetness of them before wrapping your lips with his.

“You make me so wet,” you moan into his lips.

u

“Just put it in… And let's see how wet you are after this.”

- karmaxella

[tmwcs]

"He Loves You..."

Warnings: Just straight fluff this time ;) The idea came to me while i was outside admiring my mothers flowers. This is a heethan x readen fic, (based off the characters in the MGR/MRE/HHP arc. Heethan is Heeseung's character, heeseung/ethan)

Sitting atop a small hill of fresh, lush spring grass, your flirty summer dress of satin white lays gracefully at pulled length, exposing your legs to absorb the warm rays of the sun. The skinny straps lay loosely on your shoulders, one of them delicately falling off and draping over your upper arm, creating a carefree atmosphere within your soft and pretty nature. Your hair laid down, unfixed, softly flowing with small flowers placed in the strands, meshing in with your waves. Just a tiny bit of glitter eyeshadow was enough to make your eyes sparkle, and the perfectly ombre sugar, pink color staining your pursed lips. In everyone's eyes, you were the season of Spring.

Eyeballing a small patch of wild peonies, you admired the peachy color and the pink tint of the wide petals. Leaning down on your stomach, you prop your chest up with your elbows and your feet raise up in the air as you swing them delicately, back and forth. Your dress rises, already at a mini length, yet tastefully increases the view of your honey thighs and glowing skin. Remarkable.

Taking one of the peonies, you carefully remove the petals from the bud, one by one.

"He loves me......he loves me not......he loves me.......he loves me not...."

The warm breeze expands your hair to surround your shoulders, creating a gap in between the brunches of strands to expose the open back feature of your summer dress. The weather was so clear and warm, why not show off some skin and dress freely?

"He loves me.....he loves me not....he loves me....."

You continue to pull out each petal, until you come to the last one....and to the sunken dismay of your heart's weight, falling heavy into the pits of your gut, you landed on....

"He loves me....not?......"

Slightly frowning at the naked bud, you remove the last petal on 'not'. When suddenly a hand swoops right in before you, presenting you with a new stem, one with a nearly naked bud, and a single petal remaining intact.

"He loves you."

His deep voice emerges from behind as he holds onto the stem, gently bringing it to your face as he hovers over you, gently laying over your back and cradling it against his chest. Softly giggling, you take the stem and feel the warmth of his hand, now free, swooping over your throat, placing you in a gentle neck hold as he buries his face in the back of your head and kisses you tenderly. Watching you, he observes your delicate fingers taking the last petal. Pulling it from the bud, you softly whisper aloud....

"He loves me....."

Authors Notes: ah...this is my new favorite drabble. going right into the canon of the storyline, i just dont know where which timeline i'm going to place it in. its def going to be in the HHP arc. ;) i'm wondering if i should make a part two of this, with soft smut..like vanilla smut...idk, you guys tell me what you think in the comments. if its perfect the way it is, i'll leave it. its soo......ah.....so fluffy.

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[dweakbinnie]

The Royal Game - chapter three

Hyunjin is a prince. Felix is a prince forced to be raised as a princess by his mother's wish for a daughter.

At a ball, the two meet, and Hyunjin falls in love at first sight. Hearing about their encounter, Felix's mother forces him to try and win over the Prince's approval. What will happen when Hyunjin finds out Felix's secret? Will their wedding go ahead?

Genre; romance, royalty au, fluff & angst, slow burn

Warnings; forced feminisation, gender identity issues, sexuality issues, narcissism

Chapter.List

Cherry Blossoms are another spring blooming flower, that I think suits because it is spring in the story and Felix is from the Spring Court. Cherry Blossoms have become associated with living in the moment, taking time to appreciate things as they are at present, and not always looking at the distant future that is bound to change. They can also symbolise femininity. In this chapter, Felix is trying not to focus on how he has to try and win Hyunjin's heart. Instead, he tries to enjoy what he is wearing for the ball and how he feels beautiful in it. I also rewatched the skz vlog of Felix, Hyunjin, and Jeongin getting their personal colour theory done. Lighter, pale tones suited Felix more, so I designed his dress off of that. Cherry Blossom petals are also a light pink color, which I feel like it makes it a good choice. Aha, I feel like I'm sitting my English exams again when I'm analysing like this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Word Count: 1.1K

Felix stared at the dress on the mannequin his mother had made for him. The rose-pink and ivory satin ball gown had been specifically designed for the Summer Cout ball. She wanted Felix in light colours that made his skin glow and showcased the Spring Court.  As the daughter of the Spring Court’s capital, it was only right that he stood out compared to the others.

The dress’s bodice was a puffball sleeve, off-the-shoulder, ivory top, topped with a rose-pink corset that laced up with an ivory ribbon in the back, and came down in a ‘v’ at the front. A petticoat was hidden under a layer of ivory satin, then an ivory lace with cherry blossoms embroidered across and bunched into ruffles at the hem. On top, a rose-pink satin curtained around the back and sides, leaving the front open for the lace to be seen. As Felix walked the satin would shimmer underneath. On his bed, a matching cloak was folded along with a pair of ivory long-sleeve gloves, and a pearl necklace.

Felix couldn’t deny that it was beautiful and that he was excited to wear it, however, the dress was a reminder of his duties for the night. His mother would most likely be monitoring him the whole time, while also trying to get him near to the Prince. Felix hoped Minho would be able to come up with an excuse to let him hide away for a bit, even if it was just for a minute.

“Are you ready, Your Royal Highness?” Chaeryeong said, coming to stand beside the Princess—a set of towels folded across her arms.

Felix hummed. At least he could enjoy the night knowing that he did feel beautiful in the dress.

“I’m glad you like it, daughter.” Felix’s mother stood to his other side. She wanted to see Felix’s expression when he first saw the dress and could easily say she was pleased when Felix broke into a wide smile. “I believe you are going to outshine many there.”

“Thank you, mother, for having this wonderful dress made for me.” Felix’s appreciation was genuine.

“Good, now let’s get you bathed and glistening.” His mother led the way and watched over as Felix was prepared. It was bad to think of her daughter as a product, but everyone had their duties.

“Have you been remembering the information I got for you about Prince Hwang Hyunjin?” Felix’s mother spoke, looking at his reflection in the mirror as his hair was dried and styled.

“Yes, mother. You may test me.” Felix worked hard to not disappoint or risk offending his mother at the ball.

The Queen cleared her throat. “Very good. I’ll start easy then they’ll get more difficult. Your first question is, when is the Prince’s birthday?”

“March twenty-fifth. Today is his twentieth birthday. There are one-hundred and seventy-four days between our birthdays.”

The Corner of the Queen’s lip lifted into a small smile as Felix replied with more information than needed. “Where did the Prince grow up?”

“In the capital of the Summer Court, the Dawn region. He grew up with his Cousin, Princess Hwang Yeji, she will also be attending the ball and is someone I should try to befriend.”

The Queen hummed, happy with the answers. “Yes, Princess Yeji will mostly be next to Prince Hyunjin for much of the night. I believe her opinions will be taken into account by the Prince. Next question, who is the third cousin?”

“Prince Nishimura Riki. He lives abroad.”

“Yes, however, he is currently here with his mother. His mother and the Prince’s mother shall be overlooking all the women who enter the ball tonight. Make sure that you look presentable and be well-behaved at every moment. If you try and eat a grape and miss your mouth, or disrespectfully chew with your mouth open, it will ruin your chances. I already feel like you’re at risk since your attendance record is low. From now on, you are no longer allowed to avoid making public appearances. I need you to be loved.”

Felix glanced at his mother. “Of course, mother.”

“Next question, what are the Prince’s hobbies?”

“He enjoys training and fighting, but he also likes to read. The Prince has said that reading helps to calm him down after practice, it also teaches him new techniques and tactics.”

“Close friends?”

“Lord Lee Dweahi from the Spring Court. His family lives over in the East. He will also be attending the ball.”

“Yes, Lord Dweahi is an… interesting character. I do hope he doesn’t cause too much of a commotion with his drinking. I’m sure the Prince will keep him in check to not embarrass himself. Anyway, you’ve done well with answering my questions, so I’ll only ask you one more; what is the Prince’s favourite food?”

“Sushi, and for fruit it is watermelon. He doesn’t like onions, carrots, and eggplants.” Felix let out a deep breath, no longer feeling like he was in the prosecution chair. He’d managed to answer all his mother’s questions, now it was only a matter of time until he had to meet the Prince.

Chaeryeong stepped back, letting the Queen have a full view of Felix’s hair and make-up. “All done, Your Majesty.”

The Queen stood from the cushioned chair she’d reclined in, wearing a tight-lipped smile as she stood behind her daughter—hands on his shoulders. “Marvellous, I have no doubt in you getting the Prince’s attention this evening.”

Felix returned the smile—he looked so much like his mother. Chaeryeong had styled Felix’s hair into a bun with a series of curls hanging down, framing his face. He didn’t like how his make-up covered up his freckles, but he couldn’t go against his mother’s word, especially on a night like tonight. His lips were a soft pink, the same that dusted around his eyes. The bottom of his eye line had been traced black with kohl. The kohl was also used to darken and extend his eyelashes.  

“Oh, daughter,” his mother sang—a sign her next words may not be so loving “Tonight, you’ll represent the Spring Court, the capital’s family, and me.” There it was—the sign for Felix to play puppet.

His mother proceeded to open a wooden box on the vanity table. Taking out the tiara, she places it on Felix’s head. The tiara was made of platinum branches donned with diamonds cut to make flowers. A single tear-drop diamond hung from the tiara’s peak.

Felix’s smile grew feeling the weight of the tiara on his head. A part of him couldn’t deny that he truly felt beautiful.

His mother hummed with Felix being ready for the ball. “Let’s go, daughter. It’ll be good to get there a bit early and talk with the others there.”

“I’ll see you later, Chaeryeong.” Felix hugged her goodbye once his mother had left the room.

“Good luck,” Chaeryeong wished, giving him a wink.

“Thank you,” Felix giggled and hurried after his mother.

Author Note; thank you for making it this far. please like or drop a comment if you're enjoying this. net chapter will be the ball

Chapter.List

[aurumacadicus]

If you still want titles & pairings... how about Vainglorious with Starkbucks? (I love your writing & fics so so so much & i hope you're having a really good day)

I had to look up what this meant lmao. Thanks! You too!

Vainglorious

"This is your own fault, you know?" Bucky asked, picking through a bunch of flowers before he found a pretty hibiscus. He popped the entire thing into his mouth.

"Gross, you're supposed to suck the--" Tony began, but apparently he thought better of it, because he just shook his head and turned away.

Bucky plucked out a lily and took a bite out of one of the petals. "You're the one who thought it would be a good idea to tempt the fae," he continued, unperturbed.

Tony scowled. "I wasn't trying to tempt the fae. That's poisonous."

"Not to me," Bucky replied, shrugging. He turned to look over at the closet, where Steve was apparently packing all of Tony's clothes into a satchel that looked like it could only fit one shirt. "Doll, did Tony tempt us?"

"Of course he tempted us," Steve scoffed, beginning to wad up a silk shirt, which Tony squawked and snatched from him. He blinked at Tony, unimpressed, then reached in to grab another shirt to shove into the bag. "Walking through our circle, dressed in fine clothes, calling us assholes when we wouldn't let him leave--"

"Most people," Tony said loudly, shoving himself between Steve and the opening to his closet. He snatched the second shirt away from him. "Do not find being called an asshole attractive! Fucking cut it out, you brute, you're going to ruin all my clothes--"

Steve blinked at his empty hands, then looked back up at Tony, raising an eyebrow. "It's novel. People normally try very hard not to insult the fae."

"You deserve it and more!" Tony exclaimed, then slapped Steve's hand away from his diadem. "Don't touch that."

"We'd make you a better one," Steve huffed, sulking away from his closet. "Something grand, maybe, with gold and sapphires."

"Rubies," Bucky corrected, taking another bite of lily.

Tony hovered in front of his closet a moment longer, just to make sure Steve wouldn't dart back over when his guard was down, then grabbed the satchel to upend it. Half of all the clothes he owned came tumbling out.

"Be careful. I store spells in there," Bucky said, smirking when Tony immediately flipped the bag back upright.

"Put you in prettier clothes, too," Steve mused, eyes going dark and speculative. "Silks, and satins... some lace, maybe..."

"Ooh, lace!" Bucky agreed. He handed Steve the bouquet that some prospective beau had sent Tony. "Try the hibiscus. It's good."

Steve plucked one out. "Don't mind if I do."

"Stop eating my proposal gifts," Tony hissed, rushing over to snatch the vase out of Bucky's hands.

Steve and Bucky just frowned at him, unimpressed. "You don't need any proposals," Steve said. "You've promised yourself to us."

"I didn't know I was promising myself to you, you crafty bastards!" Tony exclaimed angrily. "And it won't even work! My country needs an heir." He frowned at them and hoped it didn't show any disappointment, because in other circumstances, he would have loved a roll in the hay with them. "You two don't really have the necessary parts."

"We can get you an heir," Bucky promised. The filthy grin on his face and spark of magic over his fingers didn't really leave a lot of questioning as to how.

Tony blinked at him slowly, disbelieving, then raised the vase over his head and threw it at him as hard as he could.

Steve caught it, but they both got splashed with water and slapped with flowers. "Okay, look, maybe we should talk about this," he offered hastily when he noticed Tony stomping over to where his other proposal gifts were. One of them looked like a sword.

"Maybe we should talk about this," Tony repeated, voice mocking, before he found the sword and grabbed it up.

"God damn it why are we so attracted to assholes," Bucky huffed, scrambling out of the way as Tony lunged toward them with a furious scream.

[hyunjins-goddess]

"You Know I Can't Leave You Alone..."

A Hwang Hyunjin fanfic based on the song, Red Lights...🥀

(First ever Hyunjin fanfic, I'm shitting bricks lololol)

Is this a game you really want to play with me? You don't know who you're fucking with. You thought, eyes burning into his soul as your jaw clenched, heel tapping in time to the beat of the music.

It was like he was able to read your mind.

Due to the fact that one eyebrow was raised and a smug smirk played on his lips.

You were sat outside of the booth on a chair, leg crossed infront of the other.

He was leaning up against the bar.

Your body felt as if there was an itch you needed to scratch as you glared at each other.

Pulses were quickening, skin was perspiring, yet all you two were doing was staring each other down. Daring one another to make a fucking move.

This godforsaken man you were glowering at was Hwang Hyunjin. His name alone made your temper flare, pussy glisten. A man who must have been kissed by Aphrodite herself.

Inky dipped locks that sported a trendy half up half down hairstyle, strands of hair that cascaded down his prominent cheekbones and framed his sharp jawline. Feline shaped eyes with onyx irises, a beauty mark just below his left eye, it was like a stamp confirming his ethereal beauty. Sensual full lips that looked as if they had been tinted by a rose, texture of its petals.

Standing at 5'10, he was adorned in a satin white shirt that made his slightly tanned skin glow. The shirt really put emphasis on his broad shoulders, black dress pants alluding to his trim waist.

Anyone could tell he was a dancer.

His lean figure and walk made him look like a panther, his predatory gaze locked onto you confirming this.

Your glare never faltered even when a different man approached you, settling into your personal space to tell you how he thought you were absolutely gorgeous, the confession being spilled right into your ear as the music was just so loud that he had no choice but to be within your proximity for you to hear him.

Hyunjin visibly swallowed at this interaction.

Your eyes flashed as if to challenge him and you keened at how Hyunjin was reacting to you getting this attention. You smirked dangerously, continuing to allow the man to babble nonsense in your ear.

What are you gonna do about it pretty boy? You mouthed at Hyunjin in a taunting manner, body breaking out into goosebumps all over as you witnessed him striding over to you.

Your smirk never left as you thanked the other man, politely declining his offer of getting you a drink.

Time seems to fast forward as Hyunjin suddenly grips your arm and you find yourself being thrown up against a bathroom cubicle door, your back arches against it as he locks it.

"Care to tell me what the fuck you were playing at out there?" Hyunjin spat as he towered over you.

Your smirk widened. "He was just being nice. What's wrong with that?"

Oh that rattled him. "Oh yeah? Nice, huh? Were you gonna fuck him? Cause he was just so nice?"

Oof, the audacity.

"Oh PLEASE Hyunjin, cut the shit. You're acting as if I've haven't seen the way women throw themselves at you, you don't seem to mind that."

He smirked. "Oh? Jealous are we?"

You bristled. "No. Just calling you out on your own bullshit."

His face came closer to yours and your thighs clamped together as his breath mingled with yours. "Listen to me and listen to me very carefully." His lips were so close to yours, he could almost speak into your mouth. "You're mine. I can barely function properly, I feel like I'm out of control. I'm staying up all night because I can't get you out of my head. You own my sleepless night, you own my thoughts...You own me..."

Your breathing hitched as you were transfixed with the way his mouth was moving, the rasp in his voice putting you under his spell again.

"I feel like I'm going crazy over you and I know you feel the same, give in to me." Hyunjin almost whined and you were close to reciprocating it. "Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is you."

"I hate you..." You whined, hands bunching into his shirt, pulling his body closer to yours.

In seconds his lips were devouring yours, teeth clashing and biting, moans spilling out into each other's mouths as you ravaged each other. His hands gripped at your face as you pulled him even tighter to your body.

You let out a gasp as he kicked your feet to spread your legs wider, shoving his thigh up against your core. You whimpered unashamedly.

"Tell me again that you hate me baby." Hyunjin rasped against your neck as he kissed, bit and licked at the marks he was printing on you.

"I hate you Hyunjin..." You moaned out, rutting your hips at his thigh like an animal in heat, causing him to growl.

You could feel the hard print of his dick throbbing against you as he hiked up your dress, ripping at the fabric that barely concealed your core. His fingers slid into you easily due to your leaking arousal, you bit down onto his neck to muffle your moans as his fingers hooked into a come hither motion, pressing against that spot that had your eyes rolling back into your head. You could feel the growl build up in Hyunjin's chest and suddenly he was slipping down, keeping a firm grip on you.

You covered your mouth and almost screamed as those lips latched onto your clit, sucking it with gentle pressure to make your back arch.

He moaned against your pussy, causing vibrations as your hands scrambled into his hair, pulling at his scalp.

"Fuck Hyunjin, don't stop..." You pleaded with him as too soon you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, legs shaking as you ended up riding on his face.

His eyes never stopped looking at you, marvelling at the way you were pretty much thrashing against the cubicle door as you finally released into his mouth.

Hyunjin gently kissed your core to calm you down and ground you, he spoke against you.

"I'm yours, Y/N."

Thank you so so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! Again this is my first Hyunjin fanfic, I'm thinking about writing for all of them, so please go easy on me okay? Lololol

May make a part 2 to this? Again thank you so much, I hope you are well and taking care of yourself 🩷

[quills-of-freedom]

Historia

Relationship, vibe & various

😇

👹

💕

👄

🐁

🦢

🌸

🍾

🌞

🥇

🎽

🧸

Historia can sometimes be a pretty complex person - she's trying to figure herself out and find who she really is. So patience is a must if you want to be close with this angel.

Adores and has shelves full of exotic bubble baths, lotions, moisturisers, bath bombs, face masks etc.

She's pretty organised and tidy her house is always super clean and has the modern furniture and latest trending modern wall art.

She takes care of herself well, so her skin is always satin soft, hair smells gorgeous and her nails and smaller features are always tidy.

Ideal Dates

Historia is royalty. So she doesn't expect anything less than the best things. She's not spoiled or materialistic though; from her background and how she was raised she is very humble. She won't turn her nose up at a gift but see the beauty of the meaning and be super happy. But - she personally likes the finer things.

So although she would be happy with just a homecooked meal in the garden, that's only after you've already won her heart. To impress her at first, you're going to have to pull out all the stops.

If you can't afford the best, she'll still adore it if you improvise. Flower petals all over the floor, light some candles, run her a bath... its the quality of the idea over the price-tag.

Pick her up some flowers before you see her and she'll melt like butter.

Once you earn her trust, then her heart she'll always shower you with small tokens of affection. Small gifts (big ones on special occasions) little love notes, words of affirmation and so on.

Modern AU

Prom queen / head cheerleader vibe. That stereotype. Everyone wants her, no one can have her. You have to be really special for her to want you. And by special I mean kind-hearted and strong.

Remember those bubble baths I mentioned? She has a walk in closet that's full of perfumes, fancy soaps, hats and shoes. Always organised and some are even labelled.

I can't really see her being career orientated. She's naturally well off from her family. She'll still do part-time shifts at a café or something though, to kill time.

Volunteers litter-picking and environment control.

If she does decide to start a career, she'd be a Kindergarten teacher.

NSFW

Okay so there's two extreme sides to Historia. One is this gorgeous, innocent girl who is so small, you can see the indentation of your cock on her lower stomach when you're really pounding her. She's tiny down there and super tight.

Then there's... her dom side. Where she will literally make you her bitch.

Again, she's just figuring herself out. But just... prepare yourself.

When she's being dom she's second only to Yelena. I'm talking whips, paddles, toys, chains... if that's not your thing then cool, but she sometimes would really like to sit on your face until you tap out.

The more submissive side to her, she blushes heavily (She'll 100% be submissive until she's totally comfortable with you) squeaks, she gets embarrassed and squirms by how good you make her feel.

"N- no - I can't it's too good, I can't take it..."

"You're so strong..."

"You're too big! It's too good!"

You can skull fuck Historia, she'll just take it.

Kinks

Mommy kink. When she's dominating she'll be the mommy. "That's it baby... drink deep from mommy..."

Pillow Princess. She uses this when she's submissive and Dominating. Will order you to pleasure her and make her feel good.

Size Kink. With her being so small she gets a kick out of how far your dick or strap can stretch her - the bigger the better. But she's so tight down there, even a smaller one would be more than enough for her.

Stuffing. Enjoys feeling filled up to the point she could just burst. Fingers, toys, dicks, strap on... you name it she wants it all in her at once. She'll act all shy about it but she'll orgasm over and over again as you absolutely ruin her.

Aftercare

This poor lass will need to be looked after if she's feeling more submissive. You'll actually leave her unable to walk for at least thirty minutes.

She bruises easily so tight grips on her leave small marks. Kiss them better, please.

If she's destroyed you then after she'll order you in some food, stroke your hair / tickle your back until you fall asleep.

Dates 10/10

Thoughtfulness 9/10

Affection 10/10

Sex 10/10

Aftercare 5/10

[ricardian-werewolf]

Chapter 6: Holy water cannot help you now

Ao3 Link Summary: As the aftermath of the attack on Keramzin comes to the forefront, there is a reflection across Ravka of their Sankta Sol's martyrdom.

Chapter below cut:

After. As the darkness claimed her, the Girl knew this black void was not the end. More, a sleep. The soft, tranquil stillness of a coma. She had fought so long, so hard, and deserved a chance to lick her wounds. The knife to her chest had torn into her heart, but a flicker of sunlight healed the skin before the Darkling could notice.

As she slipped in and out of the inky black, her faithful came from out of the woodwork to settle the girl’s body upon a gold-encrusted litter and laid her upon sheets of gold satin and silks. From there, she was carried by her faithful Soldat Sol across Ravka to the place of her birth. Her friends and allies accompanied her, the gold-eyed twins at her side no matter the day or night. Millions flooded the Dva Stolba valley, chanting her name until their voices were hoarse, and yet screamed still more. Mothers wept, tore at their garments as her litter was carried past village and town alike. Men removed their caps and clutched the icons of her form - the stag’s antlers cast in a halo around her head. The icon showed the fetter on both wrists as she cast a glow of sunlight. 

All while, the girl slept and dreamed of a fox-prince with golden hair and hazel eyes. He, too, slept. Buried beneath the ice-sheet of the Ash Tree, brought into a coma through their shared tether. The darkness did not sink its claws into him the way the girl feared. In its stead, the darkness loved her prince the way it could never love her. Time healed all wounds. The girl knew that like a surgeon’s scalpel, the darkness was seeking to cut from her prince the tumor that had festered in his soul for so long. 

The Darkling had evaded fate once again, leaving the orphanage of the girl’s youth a smoldering ruin. Into his embrace he had taken the Grisha children, promising brimstone and hellfire to follow if anyone made to move against them. But, one did. Sturmhond, the wolf of the seas, made the Darkling’s plans to attack the Firebird’s nest a near impossibility. The First Army, of its Otkazat’sya men and women, raised new banners in the name of the Sun Saint:

A fox circling a sunburst, all backed in the deep green of the Little Prince. 

They took up their guns and sabres once more, and marched into the fog of war to bring glory to their war-torn home. All while worshiping her name and offering prayers of healing for the soul of the girl who had become their savior.

Little girls scattered fire-flower petals on the grasses of the Firefalls as the Apparat, returned from his holy exile, proclaimed the Sankta Sol in a place beyond what mere man knew. She was not at the Making of the Heart of the World, not yet.

Nor would she be. For the tether that stretched between the Little Saint and Little Prince was a bond that could not be cleaved even by death. As long as the other loved their half, they would not die. The Little Prince was too clever to evade death’s scythe. He would be the one to plunge into the underworld, guided by the girl’s light, and they would emerge.

Together. 

She would not let the Darkling rule another day. He would face his fate, whether with the steel of a Grisha blade or cold bullet of a rifle. It would be up to the girl to undo the pain and misery that had swallowed her country and people whole. She would live.

She would rise, become the savior her people needed. It was time to come out from under her old matron’s skirts. The Girl would waken, and she would have at her side a king who would crown her in cloths of gold and fox-fur, impress into her skin the prayers of a man who loved her for who she was. His word was holy oath, more than even the Apparat’s cries. 

Her faithful would come for her, and she for him. This much was something that could be written in the stars, in the compass that pointed ever truly north, and the ring upon the girl’s finger that only the red-haired girl of one eye and many scars recognized.

Her friends and allies would disperse, and would return to the lives of outlaws and miscreants intent on surviving. But from her place of rest and enshrinement, they would emerge crowned in the certainty that the Sun Saint had not forsaken her most beloved of peoples. She had not failed them once ere this.

Now she would not either.

Carried up in the flames of the firefalls, the litter carrying the girl was deconstructed, and a dome of the finest Fabrikator made glass placed over the bed. In its becoming of a coffin, the falls were parted and the coffin placed into a cave lit by the stalagmites that dripped down from its ceiling. Then, the cave was sealed, prayers were finally offered, and the crowd drew away in reverence for their martyred saint.

All across her homeland, church-bells sang songs of mourning, calling the faithful to mass and supplicants to kneel at their shrines. All to beg for the soul of the girl who was an icon. 

Inside the coffin, the girl touched the fetter at her wrist and the collar at her neck. 

A smile touched her face. In her ear, she heard a voice whisper.

“Rest well, Sunshine.” The girl’s laugh was a silent one, but it brought mirth to her. She closed her eyes again, and let the darkness carry her down into a world only the Little Prince and she knew. There, she would be home. Orpheus had found her Eurydice. She would strum her lyre and sing sweet songs of the return of a fox-king and a sun-queen. 

Those who heard her song would know of her return, and carry in their breasts the sacredness of such a gospel sung by a girl unto whom death nor the Darkling could touch. 

[bbfeelings]

My contribution to the first day of Kazuki Week 2023: grief/acceptance. Sorry double posting, but I figure it's more accessible to post the entire fic here on Tumblr. You can also read it on AO3.

Title inspired by this song. And for your vibe considerations.

Your Mess Is Mine

QPR or mlm KazuRei. Post-finale, Pre-Time Skip. Family fluff.

Summary: Kazuki, Rei, and Miri attend Karin's wedding in France. Before this, Kazuki and Rei's relationship was largely undefined because they were both fine with whatever that is going on.

────

When Karin flashed her engagement ring over video chat a year ago, Kazuki didn’t imagine he’d be in the French countryside, walking her down the aisle, with Miri tossing petals just steps before them. Karin clung to “Kazu-nii” all those years ago; and just now, she hooked her arm around his again.

Yuzuko’s death once separated them. Parentless and raised by her elder sister, young Karin went to live with a distant relative up north, while Kazuki remained in Tokyo. He believed that she resented him for taking her only family away. Then they reconnected again, and she fitted right into his newfound family. Miri and Karin adore each other, and Rei warmed up to her quickly, too.

Kazuki feels the tears well up. Don’t cry, don’t cry, they’re taking photos. He looks at her; Karin is beautiful in the gown she designed herself. She looks right back at him, the way she squints when she smiles, the same quirk Yuzuko had. I’m walking her down the aisle, Yuzu. Can you believe it? He presses his lips together, but a blink lets the droplets fall.

“Aw, come on, you’re such a cryer,” Karin says, with a smile so dazzling that he almost misses her misty eyes. “You’re gonna make me cry, too.” The two giggles at how silly they look trying to fight back tears.

────

After retiring from their previous careers and moving out of the city to a seaside town, Kazuki and Rei (mostly Kazuki, really) made local friends and were invited to weddings a couple of times. But this particular wedding is unlike anything they’ve experienced. For starters, the celebration is hosted at a chateau—or what Miri excitedly called a castle. Karin’s husband is an award-winning chef specializing in Japanese-French cuisine, so the food is bound to be exquisite. Not to mention, French weddings are an all-day affair, as they’ve been warned that dinner will be served at 9 pm, and the party after will last till dawn.

As her first trip outside of Japan, or perhaps just as a 9-year-old, Miri is having the time of her life. “We’re staying at a castle!” Their room is furnished with one king-sized bed. Kazuki and Rei looked at each other and shrugged.

In the four and a half years they’ve left their old lives behind, the family of three had had a few living situations. After the loft apartment, they moved into an old unit with a tatami floor in the only bedroom. Much to young Miri’s delight, the three of them slept together for an entire year.

It wasn’t an easy year; stuck in a shoe box, between assimilating into civilian life, parenthood, and Rei’s disability, Kazuki and Rei had disagreements. Many. Never fighting in front of Miri was the one thing they could agree on from the start.

But it was also that year when they grew much closer. The reality forced them to communicate, and to face issues head on. Ultimately, Kazuki and Rei wanted the same thing: a safe, happy childhood for Miri. Every time they fought, it was to protect that vision. In that same year, they began to truly mold and fit into each other, consciously or unconsciously. From Kazuki walking on Rei’s right side, Rei’s ability to maneuver in the kitchen alongside Kazuki, to the way they sleep in the futons on tatami.

────

The day of the wedding, Kazuki stood before the armoire; a black suit for him, a navy suit for Rei, and a satin and tulle dress Karin had made for Miri in a shade of sage green that flatters her eyes and hair. She’d even hand sewed her name, in cursive, on the inside of the dress.

“Reminds me of the night before her first day at daycare,” Kazuki said in a tone reminiscent of something like nostalgia.

“A much better job than we’ll ever do,” Rei took a glance then chuckled.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Kazuki zipped up the dress then fluffed up the wrinkled tulle skirt. Miri twirled excitedly. “Can I go? Can I go?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Don’t run too far, be back here in 10 minutes, okay?” She nodded then disappeared behind the door. By the sound of her heels, she was skipping down the hall.

Kazuki combed and tied Rei’s hair into a sleek low ponytail. Rei had kept it at mid length, after discovering his strands form loose waves with the right haircut, instead of a puffy, frizzy mess. Though Kazuki never called it a mess; he’d say it was fluffy while ruffling through it.

“I can do it myself,” Rei said. Kazuki fastened the necktie just right, then smoothed down the collar. “I know. But I like doing it.”

“Hmm.”

────

After the ceremony, it’s the cocktail hours. When the blonde man finally returns with a plate of hors d'oeuvre and two flutes, Rei snares. “Done harassing your brother-in-law?”

“This is the time! A real, living Michelin star chef. I had to.”

“So what did you steal from him.” Rei takes a sip as he watches Miri playing with other children across the room.

“He said we should try using baguette instead of milk bread for French toast.”

“We could test with baguette on the next day off. What else?”

“Something about olive oil… I’m not sure. His Japanese isn’t fluent. And a lot of the food terms were in French,” Kazuki pauses to enjoy the finger food. “You have to try this.”

Rei studies the little piece of toast with various toppings, “Nah. It has olives.”

Kazuki picks out the olive, eats it, then offers Rei again by shoving it directly in front of his face. Rei reluctantly eats off Kazuki’s hand.

“Not bad.”

“Right?”

────

The dinner was a feast. Multi-course, modern Japanese-French cuisine with wine pairings. Rei swears that Kazuki was nearly brought to tears, again. “The miso? The miso in the sauce? Brilliant. Gosh. I wish I was Karin.” Kazuki gushes.

“Don’t even think about stealing my husband, Kazuki,” the tipsy bride waltzes over with a wine glass in hand. Her pretend stern face turns into giggles as soon as she sees Rei. “I don’t think Rei-kun would be happy with that either!”

“Why wouldn’t I be—“

Karin shushes him. “Stop it. Stop. It flew right over you again and I’m not explaining.” Rei closes his gaping mouth in confusion.

“Go get Miri! I’m doing the bouquet toss in a bit!” The giddy bride says before hopping away towards the groom, who waits to take her hand with the fondest look on his face.

“What was that?” Rei asks. Kazuki puts a hand on his back and shakes his head.

“Figured.”

────

Kazuki and Miri wait with a group of women who are participating in the bouquet toss.

“This is so fun,” She says as she yawns. Too much fun, perhaps. It is getting late. “When you and Rei-papa get married, can I be a flower girl again?” She looks up at Kazuki and asks nonchalantly.

“Eh? Why—“

“Kazuki! Get outta there! You’re not getting this bouquet!” Karin shouts and swings her arm dramatically. Her cheeks are flushed and her steps are slightly unsteady. She looks so happy.

“My bad, my bad…” Kazuki holds up his hands as he moves out of the way. The guests laugh at their sibling banter.

The excited crowd gathers. This is where the real fun of the night begins. Karin turns around and does a couple of swings before her toss; the guests watch attentively in anticipation.

“Three… two… one!” The bride jumps and hurls backward, sending the bouquet across the ballroom. In front of the group, Miri realizes the bundle of flowers isn’t coming their way. It’s going completely sideways, towards the wine table. Everyone’s eyes follow the flying bouquet.

Rei flexes his left arm and catches it backhandedly. He turns around, prosecco in one hand, flowers in the other, utterly flabbergasted. The guests go wild; several women swarm him. That man wasn’t even looking!

Miri weaves through the traffic, throws herself at Rei, and squeals. “That was so cool!” She beams and hugs his waist tightly. “My papas are getting married!”

“Eh? What do you mean—“

“Congratulations!” The guests cheer, making him even more flustered. What is Miri saying? He scans the crowd in a panic, but couldn’t find a single familiar face.

Then he sees it. Strawberry blonde, a pair of bright, tea-brown eyes, and a crooked grin. Kazuki swims through the crowd and makes it to Rei and Miri.

“Rei-papa and Kazuki-papa are getting married!”

“Wow, haha, um, nice catch!” Kazuki says awkwardly. Damn it, my nerves! Rei doesn’t say anything, eyes wide like a deer in the headlight. “Um, you all right? Rei?”

“I saw something in the corner of my eye and… this.” He holds up the bouquet, “That wasn’t very normal people of me.” Rei mutters, ears still hot from all the attention.

Kazuki chuckles slyly, “Sure was very assassin of you.”

Rei dishes a side eye and chucks the flowers in his face.

────

They finally coaxed Miri into going to bed. The condition: she gets to hold on to the bouquet when she does. The two men step out to the garden for some fresh air. Rei takes out a brand new pack of cigarettes in French packaging.

“Haven’t seen you smoke in a while,” Kazuki commented.

“Well, it’s for the occasion.” He lights it up, takes a drag, and promptly coughs.

“Can’t handle it anymore?”

“Shut up. I just wasn’t expecting it to be this strong.”

The lively music flows out from the chateau, a stark contrast to the serene and sleepy countryside.

“…would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Sign the papers.”

“Sign what papers?”

“Gosh, Rei, do I really need to spell it out?”

“You know the answer.”

“Fine.” Kazuki sighs, wishing he’d had a drink before this. “Like, getting married or whatever. Hypothetically, of course.”

Rei takes a long drag and exhales. “I mean, you’re the one who was married.”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

Kazuki pictures the day he and Yuzuko got married at the city hall. She was in a sundress, and he was in a shirt and tie that were sold as a set. But that wasn’t really it, was it? Marriage is… what comes after. Though their marriage barely lasted, and it wasn’t their fault. Kazuki reaches his hand over, Rei passes the cigarette.

Kazuki coughs.

“Told you.”

“Yeah, thanks for the warning.” Regaining composure, Kazuki continues. “You know she died six months later.”

Rei remains silent.

“But it was easy—the decision to get married. It was just the thing to do, you know? If I could do it over, I’d marry her again. She was what I needed. At the time. I… loved her. I really did. And I still do, I think.” He pauses, looking back at the chateau. “Like how I love Karin and Miri. I’d do anything for them—I’d die in their place, if I could.”

The thought of Miri or Kazuki dying sends a chill down his spine. Rei turns his head away. “That’s grim. We’re at a wedding.”

“I know. But—and then there’s you. And I’d do the same for you, too.”

“I can handle myself.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, Kazuki? You asked me a hypothetical question and went on about… about the people you love. What’s that got to do with each other? I can’t understand you when you go roundabout like that.” Rei pauses, filling his lungs with brisk air. “I need you to tell me exactly what it is.”

Kazuki traces the outline of the man before him, then puts his arm around his slim frame. Rei leans in and rests his head on his shoulder. “We’re not fighting though, are we?”

“Of course not, dummy,” Kazuki says softly.

“Idiot.”

“Jerk.”

“…it’s warm.”

“Hmm.”

“I like you.”

“What did you just say?” Kazuki pulls away, “What are you, a teenager?”

“I didn’t like anyone when I was a teenager.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” he fixes Rei’s crooked tie, “I love you.”

Rei brings them back together and burrows his face in the strawberry blonde.

“I love you, too.”

────

The guests circle the newlyweds as they open the dance. Kazuki and Rei watch from a safe distance, sipping on drinks.

Rei finishes his dessert wine. “This is delicious, why do they serve it in such a small glass?”

“Probably because only an ant like you could drink it,” Kazuki scrunches his nose, “It’s sickly sweet.”

“No, it’s not, it has… layers.”

“I think it’s too sweet.”

“Can we stock these at the diner?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You suck,” Rei pouts, “I’m going to get more.”

10 minutes later, Rei is visibly tipsy. “I learned,” he says as he puts his hand on the small of Kazuki’s back, “these are called dessert wine.” His eyes twinkle. Oh no. Kazuki knows this look.

“Let’s go!” Rei tugs on the lapels.

“You don’t even like dancing!”

“Yeah, but, Karin says we have to.”

Kazuki glances over, Karin is in the middle of the dance floor, picking up her floor-length skirt, laughing and twirling to the poppy music. Kazuki hesitates. He can’t dance to save his life. A happy drunk Rei is mesmerized by the joy spilling over from the dance floor.

Then the music changes. It’s a slower instrumental piece; anyone can tell that it’s a love song. The crowd slows down. Then the groom waltzes in, Karin takes his hand. Cheek to cheek, they step and sway to the rhythm. The guests pair up and follow their lead.

Rei looks at Kazuki, eyes twinkling. He gives in. Then Rei smiles the only way he can: a thin-lipped, strained smile. But Kazuki knows better than anyone else. This is Rei’s happy face. He takes his left hand, and he places his right on his heart. He pulls him in with an arm around the waist.

“Is your arm okay like that?” Kazuki asks, in a voice only Rei can hear. Rei hums. They move with the music; knowing nothing about dancing, they just follow their instincts. Rei puts his head down on Kazuki’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“Hmm.”

────

Daylight breaks into the ballroom, the partied-out guests sit around, nibbling hot onion soup.

Rei’s glossy, wavy, raven-colored hair is down, draping over his shoulders. Kazuki’s shirt is stained with wine. Their ties are missing. The two huddle together, eating soup.

“If it’s possible, it’d be nice.”

“What?”

“To get married. To you.”

“I see.”

“Tsk. That’s it?”

“You want me to propose now?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I propose to—add French onion soup to the menu.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s delicious.”

“That’d be nice.”

“Hmm.”

“To get married. If it’s possible. That is.”

“Okay. What about dessert wine?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Kazuki warps Rei into his arms and rests his chin on his left shoulder. Their cheeks touch; slightly sticky with sweat, wine, and maybe a little bit of happy tears.

[ The End ]

Thank you for reading! Fun fact: the baguette French toast is a secret menu at this little cafe run by a French couple near where I used to live. The best French toast hands down. I want to thank the anon who sent in the lovely idea of a KazuRei story at Karin’s wedding.

Check out my other Buddy Daddies fics in the pinned post, if you'd like!

[orlissa]

Beetle Wings

Alina and Genya stood in front of the mannequin, their heads tilted at an identical angle.

The dress was… bold. Yards and yards of golden silk satin, the bodice simple and elegantly cut, while the skirt was an artful chaos of folds and poufs and pleats and train. You didn’t have to be well-versed in fashion to recognize that it was a masterpiece. It was just the…

“Beetle wings?” Genya mumbled, wrinkling her nose.

Mistress Antipova, an expatriate Ravkan raised in Ketterdam and the creator of the gown, stood to the side, wringing her hands nervously. “Beetle wings,” she confirmed. “They are rather fashionable now in the Southern parts of Shu Han.”

The two ladies took another curious look at the dress: its front, from the shoulders down to the bottom of the bodice, the cuff of the half sleeves, and a sizeable panel on the left side of the skirt were decorated with an embroidered, floral pattern made with metallic thread and, yes, beetle wings. Shiny, green, oval beetle wings, hundreds of them, arranged like the glittering petals of flowers.

Genya turned towards Alina. “Beetle wings?!” she repeated with slightly more exasperation in her voice.

Alina—Sankta Alina, the Sun Summoner, the Tsaritsa of Ravka—gave her a little shrug with a half smile on her face. “Beetle wings.”

Genya lifted a single eyebrow. “You don’t find it…” Odd. Gross. Repulsive. “...curious?”

Another shrug. “It’s pretty.” (Mistress Antipova let out a small, relieved sigh.) “And if it really is popular in Shu Han, then it will flatter the ambassador. I’ll just have to try to forget where the embroidery material came from.”

Another sigh, this time louder and from Genya. “Alright,” she said, straightening her kefta. “If you want this dress, you can have this dress.” She gave the gown a side-glance. “It is a beautiful dress.” Then, suddenly, without any preamble, she started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To David,” Genya called back from the threshold, “to see if he can replicate these… beetle wings somehow. So you can appeal to the ambassador while not wearing a bunch of dead bugs.” And with that she left, muttering something about the Shu and their crazy tastes.

Alina sent an apologetic look towards the dressmaker. “Forgive her, please. Usually she has more tact.”

[ikeromantic]

Alice and the Beast, pt 3

For my IkeRev 1K follower celebration, the votes came in for an AU with the Red Army and Alice in Beauty and the Beast. Part 3/5 Approx. 2500 words.

Part 1 Part 2

Alice woke with a start. She was in a strange place, and it took a moment to remember where and why. Then it all came rushing back. She wanted to hide under her blanket and just go back to sleep. Anything but face her first day as a prisoner in the mansion. But she couldn’t do that. She’d made a deal, and she was going to uphold her part of the bargain.

There were clothes in the wardrobe that mostly fit, which was a pleasant surprise. Alice wondered if that was more of the mansion’s mysterious magic or an unexpected kindness on the part of her hosts. She dressed in a plain gown and apron, and pinned her hair back in a messy bun. Then she stepped out, determined to do whatever was necessary to see her father’s debt repaid.

No one met her as she stepped out into the hall. At least today it wasn’t so dark. Light crept in at the edges of the heavy, dusty curtains. Alice decided her first order of business, after breakfast anyway, was to take those down and give them a good washing. 

Alice wandered down hall after hall, taking turns at random. She couldn’t remember going to bed last night and had no idea how to navigate. She knew she was on the second floor, but not which stairway to take. She passed one set of wooden doors, carved with fanciful roses, painted red and gold. They were so pretty that she stopped to look at them. What kind of room would have such an entrance?

Curious, she pulled at one of the handles and was almost startled when it swung open. The room within was a vast bedroom. One side was taken up by a monstrously large four-poster bed, made up in red satin sheets and hung with thread of gold and velvet curtains. There was a wardrobe and a desk, and a wide window that overlooked the courtyard garden. The room was surprisingly clean and well kept, the kind of place she could imagine a Lord Kingsley sleeping in.

On one of the bookshelves near the desk, sat an odd decoration. One that caught her eye. A scarlet rose that shone with the light of magic, floating by itself beneath a glass and gold dome. The pedestal was littered with lost petals, and only a few still clung to the bloom. One looked as if it was about to fall, clinging to the stem by a frail, crimson edge. 

Alice reached up as if to touch the glass. 

“What are you doing?!” The roar of displeasure caught her by surprise. 

She turned, stumbling. Her hand caught hold of the shelf, and a book fell to the floor. The Beast loomed in the doorway, but only for a moment. Before she could even scream, he lunged for her. He caught her arm in one of his huge hands. A claw caught her apron and tore it as he grabbed her and pulled her away from the shelf.

“You shouldn’t be in here! You aren’t allowed!” His voice was raised, sharp and furious. He gave Alice no chance to reply as he dragged her out of the room and slammed the door behind him. “Stay out of my room.” His voice was lower now, but no less furious. “Do you understand?” 

The Beast shook her as he asked again if she understood. Alice was too afraid to speak, so she only nodded. Her eyes felt hot with tears, a mix of anger and fear that washed through her like a storm. All the things she might have said - ‘I didn’t know’, ‘I’m sorry’ - fled her mind as she dangled in his grasp. 

“This is my fault,” Edgar interrupted, seeming to appear out of nowhere. “I let her wander around unattended.”

“See that it doesn’t happen again,” the Beast growled. His blue-eyed stare was as hot as a blacksmith’s coals and it burned into Alice. 

“Y-yes.” A hot tear escaped the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. She wiped at it furiously. 

The Beast’s expression wavered, and he finally looked away. He set her on the ground and walked off without another look back. 

Alice sagged back against the wall, feeling completely exhausted by the encounter. Her hands shook, and she hid them in the apron pockets so Edgar wouldn’t see.

Edgar took out a little wax-wrapped candy. It was a hideous shade of green. “Here. These always make me feel better.”

She took it and popped it in her mouth without thinking about it. The flavor was tart and sweet, and it made her cheeks almost hurt from the sour tang. “What is this?”

“Crabapple.” Edgar smiled. “Now let’s go have breakfast before you find more trouble.” 

They met Kyle in the garden, sitting at a small glass and wicker table. A simple breakfast was laid out, tea and pastries and fruit. Kyle had his head in his hands and looked entirely miserable. When Edgar and Alice sat down, he raised a finger to his lips. “Shhhhh.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “We haven’t made any -”

“Shhhh,” Kyle groaned. 

Edgar leaned over and whispered theatrically, “Hangover.”

“Oh.” Alice nodded. She’d never been hungover, but it seemed fairly miserable when the men in the village had them. “Is there something I can do to help?”

Kyle shook his head and groaned again. “Just give it a few minutes.”

“Ummm, ok?” Alice tried to ignore him as she poured a cup of tea and snagged a berries and cream tart. “So, can I ask a question?”

“Sure. Ask whatever you want.” Edgar grinned.

She took a breath. “Why was he so angry? I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.”

Kyle and Edgar shared a look. Edgar grimaced. “Lord Kingsley takes his privacy very seriously.”

Alice nodded, hoping for more, but that was apparently all the answer she was going to get. “Well . . . I guess I won’t go in there again.”

Edgar nodded. “Seems like a good idea.” He didn’t seem bothered at all. He chatted with Alice about the village and her favorite books, encouraging her to talk about her life. It was easy to open up to him, with his friendly smile and playful gaze. 

After a little while, Kyle perked up. He started eating and poured his own cup of tea. Alice didn’t think he was paying any attention until he looked up from his plate to ask, “So, you know a lot about books? You read any medical texts?”

“Yes?” She tilted her head. “Why?”

He stood up. “Come on. You said you would help me out.” 

Alice glanced at Edgar, uncertain if she should go with Kyle or not. Edgar just shrugged. She decided she might as well. After all, if she was with Kyle there was less chance she’d do something else to gain the Beast’s ire. 

Kyle took her to a part of the manor she hadn’t seen yet. A suite of rooms that looked more like - “Is this a doctor’s office?”

“I am a doctor. So yeah.” Kyle sat down heavily in a worn, padded chair. He gestured to another seat so Alice sat down too.

“How did you end up here? I mean . . . usually doctors work in towns . . .”

He shrugged. “My family has always worked for the Kingsleys.” Kyle sighed. “Anyway, if you want to help, you can take a look at those books, see if they can be fixed.” He gestured to one of the many stacks of books strewn over nearly every surface of the room. 

“Sure?” Alice went to look at them. They were medical texts, so worn and used that the binding was coming undone. She started to separate the books by what repairs they needed, moving the stack, but stopped when a glass bottle rolled out from behind them.

She picked it up, peering at the label. “Erm, Kyle? Why is there a bottle of beer in this -”

He snagged the bottle and popped the cap. She watched as he took a deep draught of it. “Thanks. I couldn’t remember where I put that one.”

“It’s a little early for a drink, don’t you think?” 

“Nah.” He scratched his head, looking away from her and around the room. “Who decides this stuff anyway?”

“R-right.” Alice couldn’t help but smile. She’d never met anyone so laid back about everything. “You know, it’s kind of hard imagining you being a doctor.”

Kyle chuckled. “I get that a lot. ‘Cause of my age.”

“And your attitude.” She grinned at him.   

They spent the day tidying the office - Alice tidied and Kyle read and drank. He even fell asleep, which she thought was pretty funny. His chin rested on his chest, a little bubble of ale on his lips. He didn’t stir when she moved things around, so she just let him sleep.

The late afternoon sun shone like molten honey through the windows, heralding the coming sunset. Kyle told her she could go for the day, even though there was still plenty of mess to worry about. “Are you sure,” she asked. “I want to work hard so I can pay off my debt fast.”

Kyle frowned. “You have to take care of yourself too. If you overdo it, you’ll get sick.” 

Alice considered arguing about it, but he looked serious. “Alright. I guess I can work on it more tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Right.” Kyle put his feet up. “Hey, I didn’t ask but, do you like ale?”

She shrugged. “Sure? I guess?”

“Hm.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll bring you something good to try at dinner.”

Alice grinned. “That sounds great. Thanks Kyle!” She was still smiling as she headed down the hall, looking for her room. She thought she knew where to go, but soon became lost again. Too many halls and doors, she thought. “At this rate, I’ll need to draw a map to get anywhere.” 

She tried not to feel too nervous, but the memory of the Beast that morning was still fresh. If she went somewhere she shouldn’t be . . . Alice shivered. He’d only yelled at her but the look in his eyes left a deeper mark. He could have done so much worse. She hoped to just avoid him. Edgar and Kyle were nice enough, and surely they had plenty of work for her. Maybe she could pay off her father’s debt without even seeing the Beast again. 

A door to her left swung open just as she walked past, and Alice came face to face with the subject of her thoughts. The Beast stared down at her, eyes widened with surprise. “You.”

His gravelly voice made her jump back, nerves jangling. “I - I’m sorry! I got lost again!” Alice froze, trembling. 

The Beast took a step back, his gaze sliding away from her. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

Alice took a breath, trying to get control of her reaction. She nodded. “Y-you didn’t. You just startled me. That’s all.”

“Good.”

She looked back up at him, studying his face in profile. There was something almost gentle in his expression, regretful and lonely. It made her want to comfort him. Alice cleared her throat. “So. Umm. Could you point me toward my room? I . . . I really am lost.”

The Beast studied her for a moment and then nodded. “I can walk you there.”

“Oh! Ok. Thank you, ah, your lordship.” Alice felt flustered and couldn’t decide why. It wasn’t fear, exactly. There was just so much intensity about him, like a fire burning just beneath the surface. 

“You may call me Lance.” He held out his arm. 

Alice laid her hand on it, her pulse racing. “Thank you, Lance.”

He gave her a small smile. The barest curling at the corners of his lips. Despite the flash of sharp fangs, there was something endearing about the expression and it made Alice wish she could see him smile more. 

They didn’t talk while they walked through the halls, but the quiet between them was comfortable. As if they knew each other well enough now not to need words to fill the space between them. Alice found herself watching him from the corner of her eye, noting the grace of his movements, the quiet power of him. He was still frightening, but less now. As if exposure to him only revealed there was more to him than the brute he appeared to be. 

Lance stopped in front of her door and after a moment, she relinquished the grip on his arm. He scuffed a bare foot, seeming suddenly awkward. “Have a good night,” he murmured. 

“You too,” Alice smiled at him and pushed the door to her room open. The sight beyond startled her. This was not the room she’d woken up in. This one was immeasurably larger, the walls on two sides covered with deep-set shelves and filled with books, floor to ceiling. She must have made a sound in surprise, because Lance was there beside her again. 

His sapphire gaze held her as she tried to find the words for what she felt. 

“This is . . . Lance, my room isn’t . . . where did all these books come from? This is amazing!” Alice felt overwhelmed, unable to take it all in. There were more books here than she’d seen in her whole life prior. 

“Edgar said you liked books.” 

She turned and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Did you do this for me?”

“I - yes. As an apology.” He flexed his claws, eyes fixed on their joined hands. “I should not have lost my temper with you.”

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have gone in your room.”

Lance sighed. “Do you accept my apology?”

Alice’s eyes snapped to his face, realizing he meant it. “Of course. Yes! I- will you accept mine too? I really am sorry I was so nosy. I can’t accept any of this if you won’t forgive me.”

His eyes widened as he regarded her. “Yes. If you insist on an apology.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad. I want us to get along. Maybe even be friends? If that’s ok?” Alice could feel him tense up and wondered if she had pushed too far. 

“Friends.” He rumbled the word as if trying to recall what that meant. Then he nodded. “We can try.” 

Alice smiled at him brightly. “I’m glad.” Then she had an idea. “Would you like to have dinner with me? Well, with me and Edgar and Kyle?”

“We haven’t eaten together in a long time.” Lance considered her request. “I think that would be nice. Tonight, then.” He gently pulled his hand from hers. “I will see you then.”

“Great!” She paused to look back at the room full of books again, feeling such a sense of exhilaration at the unexpected gift. Then she realized she still didn’t know where her room was. “Wait! Lance!”

“Two doors to the left, Alice.” There was a sound after he spoke, almost like a laugh, low and deep, unpracticed.

Part 4

[fanfic-phoenix]

Obitine Week 2023, Day 3 - Dutiful, Reliable, Brave

Prompt: Beskar

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 332

Read on AO3

“Duty,” said Satine. “Duty,” Obi-Wan echoed. She wore it well.

“Blasterweave?”  Obi-Wan ran a finger over the sleeve of the new dress waiting on the mannequin and nodded appreciatively.  “Good blasterweave.”

“And how would you know?”

He turned to smile at Satine’s raised eyebrow and plucked at his own cloak.  “You think Jedi go around unprotected?  Not as fine as yours, I admit, but enough to hold off most blasters.”

“And mine is better?”

“Thicker,” he said.  “Heavier.  I presume…?”

“Beskar infused,” she confirmed.  “I insisted.”

“Only the best for the Duchess.”

“Naturally,” she said.

And then she walked over to kiss him, which-  Well-  He-

Satine laughed.  “One day,” she said, “you’ll get used to that.”

“Never,” he promised.  “I will never get used to that.”

Satine’s eyes went incredibly soft.  Obi-Wan knew what she wanted to say because it was exactly what he wanted to say - which was, of course, why neither of them could say it.

“Help me dress?” she asked.

“Of course.”

The dress, first; a deep, perfect green.  It hung loosely at the sleeves, like the leaves of a willow.

“Duty,” said Satine.

“Duty,” Obi-Wan echoed.  She wore it well.

The blue robe followed.  It was stiffer, held more beskar, probably, and sat over her hips like the curved petals of the lilies she’d thread in later.

“Reliability,” she said, with a vague smile.  “I hope to reassure my council.”

“You are reassuring,” he told her, then winced.  “That was…  Sorry.  Trying to be encouraging.”

“It was sweet,” she assured him, which rather proved his point.

The headdress looked complicated and heavy, so Obi-Wan decided it was a future job.  All that remained was the purple arm guards.

“Do these mean anything?” he asked.

“I like purple,” she said.  And then, smile falling slightly, added, “And my people hardly need to see…”

The burn scars.  Remnants of-  something Obi-Wan should never have let happen.

“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he said, and pressed his lips to the rough skin before pulling on the purple coverings.

Tagging: @weekofobitine