#manhwa angst
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 month ago
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Gun Park, Samuel Seo x Reader: Infidelity
G/N. Angst. Requested by Anon. Masterlists
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"I know."
You had wanted your tone to be calm. Even with the shit storm brewing you wanted to be cool and collected. A final fuck you to show that he didn't affect you.
But your voice also betrays you and cracks.
His face is bemused and you want to scream. "What do you know?" He asks.
All pretence is gone. The tears fall and your nose burns.
"You fucking asshole,” you hiss, “I saw you with my own fucking eyes!"
.
.
Gun raises an eyebrow at your words "If you thought I was yours, that is your mistake."
"What?" Your stomach drops, lurches; you think you're going to throw up.
"I am not yours. You do not have any claim to me. What I do is of no concern to you."
"Wh-what?" You repeat like a fool, feeling like you have been doused with a bucket of ice cold water.
Never did you expect this conversation to go the way it is.
You imagined some excuse falling from his mouth, denial, maybe just acceptance for his wrongdoing. For hours you had fretted and waited in anger for his arrival, questions running through your mind - wondering if they had merely kissed or did he fuck them on his bed like he fucks you, do they writhe around in his lap like you do, does he suckle at their neck leaving blatant marks and if their skin bruises as easily as yours does, does he caress their knuckles softly then tenderly kiss each finger as he does you?
Yet you never imagined-
"Since you have such a problem, it seems this arrangement has come to a natural end."
Gun loosens his tie and undoes the top buttons of his shirt. He doesn't look in your direction.
I've opened my life to you, you want to scream. I've spent night after night lying next to you. And you tell me this is a mistake?
None of those words come. All you can bear to do is plead his name as the last shreds of dignity slip through your fingers.
"I'm going for a shower," he strides off and you wonder if he's trying to clean himself of this situation. Of your attachment. Of you.
If you apologised and swallowed your pride and agreed it was just a misunderstanding, would he walk back what he said? If you dropped to your knees and asked him to just pretend this didn't happen, could you go back to how it was?
But-
Could you bring yourself to do that? Could you live with yourself if you did that?
This isn't how it was meant to go at all. This conversation, this entire relationship, this nightmare of an arrangement.
You thought you had saw something in his cold black eyes. The way he calls your name, the way he holds you, his touch trailing your skin, exploring every inch of you. The words he murmurs into your ears, the soft smile he sends your way, the chuckles you pull from him and his fingers intertwined with yours. 
It is your own fault for tangling with Gun Park, a cruel enigma, a heartless monster. For falling into his bed, into his arms. For falling, and having your heart shattered.
You feel your own tears choke you as you're left alone.
Only the pitter-patter of the shower echoing keeps you company as Gun Park washes all traces of you away.
.
.
"And? I don't see what you're so mad about," Samuel sneers.
He dismisses the pang in his chest at seeing your tears and face scrunched up in anger.
Forces his face to remain blank as you snarl and screech, punctuated by heartbreaking sobs between furious words.
I don't need you, he tells himself. I don't want you, he thinks, desperately trying to convince himself.
He had approached, dead eyed, the stranger at the bar. Fell into bed with them with little effort, and ignored the way they felt nothing like you, smelt nothing like you.
How being with them is nothing nothing nothing.
Because having nothing is better than giving something. Better than letting someone have a part of him. It would be a weakness, a vulnerability.
Samuel couldn't do it. He had stood on the precipice, preparing for a leap of faith and found his own fears and shortcomings rooting his ankles to the ground.
You would be- you are a hindrance.
Maybe if he wasn’t already spiralling, he could have gone about this kinder. But each time you looked at him like he was everything and he felt his heart softening, he wanted to die.
Why me? He wants to shake some sense into you. What is wrong with you? Why are you so fucked in the head that you want to stay?
He didn't ask any of this. Instead he sought out another body in a misguided attempt to prove that he's right. That nothing really is better than something, and now he takes your rage and despondency because that, in his warped mind, is better than the alternative.
Eventually, when your voice grows raspy and you have no more tears to shed, you ask Samuel if he has anything, anything at all to say.
He stays tightlipped and silent. He refuses to look at your face, to see the hurt and despair in your eyes.
I don't need you, he tells himself when you hiss fuck you for the final time.
Later, in the dead of night as he lies alone in his bed, your scent lingering around him but your presence, your sweet smile, your tender gaze long gone-
I don't deserve you, he tells himself.
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grinsgrimmy · 25 days ago
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A G A I N .
ㅤᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖢𝖨𝖤𝖫 𝗑 𝖠𝖥𝖠𝖡!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
HOW TO REJECT MY OBSESSIVE EX-HUSBAND
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๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 oneshot . (2064 words)
sum. ciel, haunted by the regret of his past life where he failed to love you, he showered you with affection in the second life, wanting you back.
ㅤㅤ like ciel? check out ciel/reader/jace drabble .
note : spoilers to the novel if you squint
ㅤ⪩⪨ m.list
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“wife.”
ciel purred. he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, a serene and affectionate smile gracing his often cold face.
his nose pressed against the crook of your neck, you could feel him planting several kisses along your shoulder— as if he were worshipping you.
breathless his eyes gazed back at yours, sparkling with adoration. “talk to me, wife,” ciel pleaded gently, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek.
you could only remain silent, flustered. though a part of your being hated him to the core, you could not help but melt into his affections.
you refused to give him any ounce of reaction that could feed his excitement.
ciel was intentionally doing this. barging into your bedroom in the middle of the night, begging for your attention and guiding. when you refused, he opted to drown you in his affections, hoping to chop down that guard you put up.
there was an incredibly good reason why you refused to open up to him. even ciel respected that choice you made because he was aware of it himself.
in your previous lives, he never did love you the way he did in your second life. before, he was reserved, stern, and cold. he was flawed in many ways. he was restricted from loving you due to his circumstances.
though he loved you all the same and more when he lost you.
life really showed him how much he took you for granted when you were killed by a monster that one day. ciel could remember it clearly, haunted by it that memory.
ciel was not a part of that mission when you had profusely asked him to. he reluctantly had to refuse you since he was busy with other matters, unfortunately.
but how much he regretted refusing you that day.
everyone in your team returned safe. except you.
you, who was killed brutally by a monster after recklessly deciding to risk your life for another guide. the team came home with the devastating news that soon reached his ears.
the team did not bother to recover your body. they gave an excuse that your body was not recoverable. ciel refused to believe that.
he burnt down the entire building into ashes that day, out of grief and terror, killing himself and everyone in it.
when he woke up, he returned to his world. his original world. and in the past too.
regardless, he vowed to love you again if he found you in his second life. he thought he needed to go back to the other world to find you.
to his luck, you reincarnated into his world. it did not take him long to trace you.
how did he know?
ciel remembered you, you every being. from your expressions to the way you move, to your preferences, to your scent, the way your guiding feels— everything.
he is obsessed with everything about you.
at first, the reincarnated you gave tiny signs. you had expressions and a pattern of speaking similar to the past you, ciel noticed. then, it went to your talents and skills. eerily similar to you.
then, he was blessed to receive your guiding.
your guiding.
one of the reasons why he felt incredibly blessed to have met you, to have you as his only guide. undenying pleasure and comfort. that was what your guide did to him.
you became his home. his home that he took for granted. his home that he should have shown love despite his restrictions.
when ciel felt your reincarnated self's guiding, he knew it was you. his wife. his dearest wife.
as if the hollow soul of his was resorted, your guiding washed over him like the gentlest of waves.
he clung onto you ever since then, following you like a lost puppy. you never gave any confirmation that you were his wife from his former life, but he does not need any vocal confirmation from you.
your guiding proved everything to him. you two are still linked, even after death.
you refused to open up to him. he understood why. he was never a good partner, or a good husband to you.
ciel was utmost cold to you, to everyone.
though no words could excuse his actions, but his coldness stemmed from the fact that he was taken from his real home and was forced to become a lab experiment and soldier due to how strong he was as an esper.
he could not show his emotions.
you could be in danger because of it.
you were, in every way, his weakness. his only weakness.
you died before he could even show you an ounce of his true feelings.
regardless, that was his regret. his only regret. never loving you the way you deserved.
therefore, he wishes to love you properly then. with you in this world with him. no one to force him around, no city to save— he could focus on you and solely you.
but you refused him. for months.
ciel refused to give up.
you were guarded, only to him. the unspoken pain clung onto you, the one that was haunted by the past. the one that made you incredibly wary of him, unable to trust him.
since in two of yours' first lives, you gave him the world.
ciel did not return it back then. he could not either way.
but he wished to give you the world now.
he longed for you.
with your every denial, rejection, and refusal, it only deepened his longing. it stirred the fierce and fiery need within him to protect you and to make amends for all those moments he had failed and disappointed you.
even if it takes years. or the next life.
he wishes to love you just as you loved him back then.
ciel began to grow desperate— obsessed. he used any means within his power to string you back to him.
he is a duke in his world. he had every power to create a lot of obstacles within your life that could end you back to him.
was he crazy for this? absolutely.
but ciel never saw it as something incredibly wrong when all he wanted to do was worship the ground you walked on.
he showered you with gifts—anything your heart desires, he could send it to your front door in a matter of seconds if he could.
anything.
but ciel never got mad over your wary heart. only hurt. disappointed, but he respected it. wholeheartedly.
in a way, he knew he deserved it.
ciel should have, at least, shown you how much he truly loved you back then. but he was a coward, until the end.
he was not going to give up on the opportunity anymore. even if he was going to be called insane, obsessed, and crazy by you. he would not stop.
ciel knew your heart beat the same speed as his whenever you two were together.
he knew, deep down, you still loved him despite everything.
because it is you. the sweet person that you are. a woman he never deserved, but his lives were blessed for him to meet you. to have you.
“i love you,” ciel whispered lovingly into your ear. a giddish grin on his lips, his cheeks flushed red as he continued to plant kisses all over your neck, hoping you would react.
you did not budge. you refuse to.
but your heart skipped a beat when he proclaimed his love to you.
until he decided to whisper into your ear, “wife, i love you, truly,” he repeated again, kissing your jawline, reverring in your warmth.
you could feel his heartbeat pounding against your back, the rhythm mirroring the emotions he was expressing. each of his words was a thread woven with vulnerability, regret, and a depth of longing that surpassed lifetimes.
he held you close to himself. “i will love you now,” he muttered weakly, gritting his teeth. “as i now have a chance to love you freely without any shackles,” his saddened yet loving eyes slowly met yours.
“even if it takes another lifetime for you to forgive me, i will love you until the next,” a promise that transcends the universe.
he hoped to peel the layers of past misunderstandings, showing the aching remorse he harboured deep within since his first life.
your chest clenched. you knew what he said was genuine. his eyes said it all.
you had spent a few years since you got reincarnated to nurse the wounds of an unreturned love from your past life— only for the man who caused it to return to you, holding you like a lifeline amidst a storm.
the memories, the loneliness, and the betrayal lingered, holding you back like invisible chains. but yet, you ended up accepting his love.
he pressed desperate kisses onto your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, then your forehead, but he never leaned to your lips.
he knew that needed to be earned.
ciel wanted to earn it.
ciel let out a shaky sigh, resting his forehead on the back of your head. he was falling apart at the seams.
a part of him wished you never remembered your shared past life. he wanted to sweep you away and begin a fresh new start with you.
but that would be absolutely selfish of him.
he would have never redeemed himself if so.
“i'll never let you go again,” he vowed, kissing the top of your head. “i'll wait for you, i swear,” he left a sloppy kiss on your neck, desperate. he could feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he gripped onto you.
you never gave him an answer; you could not.
your heart thundered painfully in your chest. you were torn between the past and present. you yearned to lean on him, to believe things could truly be different as he promised.
but your memories of your unreturned love held you back.
“i can't undo the past,” ciel muttered brokenly, grasping onto you as if you would disappear if he let go. “but i want to show you the love you deserved now and then,” he murmured quietly with honesty.
for the first time, it was you who looked at him, letting his words sink in. his eyes were shimmering, no longer cold and dead as you once knew. the sincerity, it was almost overwhelming.
ciel was different.
you could feel the weight of his regret, the depth of his untold love, and the weakness he had solely for you. all bare and vulnerable.
slowly but surely, your hand rested on top of his—
contact guiding.
you willingly gave it.
you willingly gave your guiding to him.
ciel gasped, his cheeks immediately flushed red as he choked up in pleasure at the overwhelming comfort of the feeling.
his heartbeat increased, and his hands moved from your waist to grip yours. his longing eyes, filled with love, met yours. “m, may i?” ciel choked out, his entire face decorated with a bright colour of red.
you knew what he meant.
despite the shackles of the past, you nodded. you allowed him.
because in the end, no matter what he did, you still love him so. you were a fool like that.
at your nod, ciel quickly grabbed you by your hips to turn you around. his hands gently yet urgently cup your cheeks.
his eyes scanned your face, as if searching for hesistance, any ounce of rejection— there were none.
he dived down to your lips, locking his with yours. the kiss was tender, as if ciel was pouring every lifetime's worth of regret and love into it.
his lips trembled against yours, fearing you would pull away out of regret. he held you close, his touch spreading a gentle warmth through you.
you tried pulling away from the kiss, but he dived back down to your lips. he intertwined your fingers with his.
the chains of the past, one by one, were beginning to lift, replacing that guarded heart of yours with hope of something new.
you could never forget the past, but maybe.
maybe he could be the partner you had dreamt of him to be.
that night, he whispered words of love and devotion into the quiet night that belonged to both of you.
you allowed yourself to love again. in his arms.
and for ciel, maybe one day you will say you life him again.
he awaits for that day.
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locomoqo · 16 days ago
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Could we get something related to gun trying to convince the reader who he loves to stay with him. Reader is conflicted with her feelings because she loves him but she’s aware of his job and how dangerous it is for the both of them. Angst & comfort please!
love me like a sailor
— gun park x reader
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details: angst with comfort, established relationship
A/N: 1.2k words whewww, also i hope i did gun's personality justice here🥹 i rlly do believe he'd soften around someone he loves (i have a feeling this didnt come off as angsty as i wanted it to be bleh)
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The room is dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the floor as the evening light fades behind heavy curtains. Gun stands in front of you, his usually impassive face softened by an emotion he rarely shows—vulnerability. The tension between you both is almost suffocating, a thick silence hanging between breaths. Your heart is heavy with the weight of a decision you don’t want to make.
“I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” you murmur, your voice barely a whisper. You clutch your arms, holding yourself together because you’re afraid that if you let go, you’ll fall apart. You look up at him, eyes filled with the conflict that’s been tearing at you for weeks. He’s been distant lately, lost in the chaos of his work, and you can’t pretend any longer that it doesn’t scare you.
Gun’s jaw tightens, his usually stoic expression cracking for a brief second. There's a flicker of something fragile in his eyes. He steps forward, a little too quickly, as if he's scared you might vanish. “I’m here now, aren’t I?” he says, his voice quiet and distant—just like it always is.
You meet his gaze, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, hating that he makes it sound so simple. “But for how long?” you ask, your voice breaking. “You’re always chasing danger, always fighting, always risking everything. I can’t... I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t tear me apart every time you walk out that door.” The words spill out of you, each one a stab to your own heart. You hate how weak you sound, how vulnerable. But you can’t help it. You can’t stop loving him.
Gun’s brows furrow, his usual mask slipping as he takes a step closer. He towers over you, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes that contradicts his imposing presence. His hands tremble slightly as he reaches for you but stops, hovering with uncertainty as if he’s not sure he has the right to touch you anymore. “I don’t know how to be different,” he admits, his voice raw and low, twisting your heart. It's true, fighting has become part of who he is, it's all he's ever known. “This is who I am. But if it means losing you, I’ll—”
“No,” you interrupt, shaking your head, feeling tears sting at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t want to be the reason you lose your edge. I don’t want to be your weakness.”
You see frustration flare in his eyes, the helplessness he fights so hard to conceal. His hands drop to his sides, curling into fists as he takes a shaky breath. “Do you think I want to be this way?” he asks, his voice suddenly fierce, desperation cutting through his words. “Do you think I don’t know what it does to you every time I leave? I’m trying, damn it, but I can’t just walk away from who I am. I’ve built my life around this, and I can’t change it, not overnight.”
He stretches his hand out, catching yours before you can pull away. There's an urgency in his grip—an unspoken plea hidden beneath his cold facade. The anger fades from his face, replaced by something hollow and broken. “You’re not my weakness,” he insists, his hold firm but gentle. “You never have been. You’re the only person who makes me want to be better. For you.” He swallows, eyes locked on yours. “I know it’s dangerous. I won’t lie to you about that. But I can protect you. I will protect you.”
Your heart aches at the sincerity in his voice, but you know it’s not enough. You pull your hand back, wiping away a tear before it can fall. “What if something happens to you?” you ask, your voice cracking. “What if I lose you?”
Gun’s expression tightens, and he reaches for you again, his hands settling on your shoulders with surprising gentleness. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he says firmly, his voice steady, as if daring fate to contradict him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He almost adds, “Not if it means leaving you,” but the words die in his throat.
“...I don’t want to leave,” you say, your voice hoarse, and it’s the truth. You don’t want to lose him. You don’t want to be without the man who’s somehow become the most important part of your life, the one who knows you better than anyone else. “But I don’t want to watch you destroy yourself either.” Your voice wavers, and you turn away as a sob escapes before you can choke it down.
Gun’s fingers gently tilt your chin back, his touch tender in a way that takes you by surprise. “Look at me,” he commands, his tone softer than you’ve ever heard. You meet his gaze, and for the first time, you see the raw fear in his eyes—the fear of losing you. “I’m not asking you to ignore the danger. I’m asking you to stay with me.”
Your chest tightens, and you shake your head as tears finally spill over. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this,” you admit, your voice barely audible.
Gun’s hands come up to cup your face, and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His touch is achingly gentle, his thumb brushing away the tears that fall down your cheeks. “Then don’t watch,” he says, his voice teetering on desperation. “Let me be the one who takes the risks. I’ll handle it. I’ll handle everything if it means I can keep you by my side.” His voice is so soft, so uncharacteristically vulnerable.
“Isn’t that enough?” His eyes, usually so cold and distant, search yours, desperate for any sign that you might stay.
For a moment, all you can hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat, each thud echoing in your ears. The tears come faster now, and you let yourself lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palms against your skin. There’s a sadness in his gaze that cuts you to the core, but there’s also hope—a fragile, flickering flame that refuses to die.
Your hands tremble as you cling to the fabric of his shirt, your fingers curling into the material. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice breaking, “but I’m scared, Gun. I’m so scared.”
His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. His hold is firm and unwavering, like he’s trying to shield you from the world itself. “Then be scared,” he whispers into your hair, his breath warm against your temple, “but don’t go.”
It's the first time you’ve ever heard him beg, and it shatters something inside you. You stay there, wrapped in the security of his embrace. He’s far from perfect, and so are you, but in this moment, you find a sort of peace—a hope that, maybe, love is enough.
Gun pulls back slightly, his hands still cradling your face as he stares at you with an intensity that steals your breath. “Stay,” he whispers, his voice rough and desperate. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to us.”
You don’t know what the future holds, or if his promise is one he can keep, but in this moment, as his thumb gently brushes your cheek, you find yourself nodding, your resolve crumbling in the face of the man you love. Gun exhales shakily, a soft, relieved sound, and pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. For the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe—just maybe—everything will be okay.
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themissinghand · 9 months ago
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Hi you...I hope you have a wonderful day.If you don't mind my request..I want to ask Kim Dokja x sweetheart!reader..The reader is his lover since school (The reader who expressed her feelings for Kim Dokja first.).Before the destruction happened, the reader behaved like a wife to Kim Dokja because the reader knew Kim Dokja's past so the reader gave everything for Kim Dokja to know that he was always loved. (This man needs comfort..).. After the destruction happened, they separated from each other..(Kim Dokja is on the train while the Reader is everywhere.)..Kim Dokja is always worried about the condition of his lover..When they meet again, their meeting is full of romance and fluff after being separated for a long time ..(I bet Kim Dokja's group was the most surprised and the uproar because the Reader and Kim Dokja are very polar opposite.)..The constellation supporting the Reader is also extraordinary..Because the privacy attribute of the reader is also extraordinary..
Thanks for reading..I hope I didn't bother you..I love your work😍..Give you a lot of love💕💕💕..(Btw ,did you read The S-Classes That I Raised or not ??..I love Han Yoojin)..Take care of yourself..Bye dear author 🥰..
Omniscient Reader Viewpoint: Fool
Summary: In which Kim Dokja is a fool for you.
Or snippets between Kim Dokja and his wife in an apocalyptic world.
Pairing: Kim Dokja x F! Wife! Reader
Note: Thanks for your patience! I’m also currently reading The S-Classes That I Raised Manhwa, but not the novel! The holy trinity with Han Yoojin, Kim Dokja, and Cale Henituse are literally my favourite trio. 
Warnings: Minor novel spoilers! Lots of kisses, fluffy, but also light angst, and implied sexual themes. 
★・・・・・・★
Oh Baby, I Missed You
Where are you? 
Kim Dokja watched what remained of Seoul while standing beside the protagonist of his novel. 
Even after all those scenarios, how come he could not see you even once? 
[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ is curious about what Incarnation ‘Kim Dokja’ is looking for]
As if on cue, Kim Dokja felt someone’s eyes on him. Spinning around with his hand on his sword, he matched the weariness of the sunfish beside him. 
“Baby!” Hearing a familiar voice, Dokja freezes in disbelief until he hears two blades clashing with one another. 
“Who are you?” Yoo Joonghyk growled at you, who defended well and jumped back. But instead of a blade, you had a long bo staff. 
“Me? I’m Dokja’s wife.” 
“WHAT?!” The door to the rooftop swung open with multiple heads popping through in shock. 
“Is that true Dokja-ssi?” Yoo Sangrah asked, and when all of the attention was on him, Kim Dokja sheepishly nodded. 
“WHAT???? So you and Master-” Jung Heewon immediately covered Lee Jihye's mouth and grinned. 
“Nice to meet you er…”
“(L/N) (F/N). Been Dokja’s lover since a decade ago.” You smiled sweetly, before walking towards Dokja with open arms. 
“I missed you baby.” 
This time, Kim Dokja walked forward and hugged you tightly, and he felt embarrassed when everyone was watching him.
[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is wiping her tears] 
[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ did not know Incarnation ‘Kim Dokja’ was already taken]
[Many Constellations wishes for your happiness]  
“Baby, can I kiss you?” Kim Dokja flushed at your innocent question, but looking over your shoulder, he saw the wiggling eyebrows and grinning expressions from his teammates. Despite knowing his team would tease him forever, he knew he couldn’t reject your request. 
“I miss you too.” 
Without another moment, you cup his cheeks and pull him in for not one, not two, but three quick kisses. 
[The Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ jaw dropped]
There were surprised gasps and squeals, and a few hushes from Lee Heewon. 
“No wonder he always looks like he’s looking for something…”
“This is not for children to see.” 
“But hyung is-” 
[The Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ gags]
[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotters’ did not expect a romantic plot]
[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ donates 1000 coins]
[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ is squealing at the reunion kiss]
“You have a lot of constellations following you baby. As expected of you.” Kim Dokja, still a little breathless and dazed from the consecutive kisses, buries his face into your shoulder in embarrassment while you play with his hair. 
He missed this.
He missed you.
“I didn’t know my constellation was following you too.” Kim Dokja perked up at your words in interest.
“Which one?” 
[The Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ slowly looks away in disbelief]
“No way.” Maybe her long bo staff should have been an indicator. 
[The Constellation ‘Demon-Like Judge of Fire’ looks at the Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ suspiciously]
[The Constellation ‘Secretive Plotter’ looks at the Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ suspiciously]
[The Constellation ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’ looks at the Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ suspiciously]
You smiled innocently as if it wasn’t a big deal, and was just happy to see him. 
[The Constellation ‘Prisoner of the Golden Headband’ pats himself on the back and is proud he has good eyes]
So Don’t Go, Stay With Me
“Do you have to go?” 
“Yea. I have to go find my family. I’ll be safe, and I know you’ll be safe since you have such reliable people around you.” 
You cup his cheeks as you two stare into each other’s eyes lovingly. 
“Message me if you need me, and I’ll come with my nimbus cloud at any time.”
Knowing that your constellation was the Monkey King, Kim Dokja knew you were capable and perhaps on the same level as the protagonist. 
But…
“We can find them together.” 
“Dokja, don’t you already made plans with the sunfish?” He balled his hands into fists. 
“I want you to see the end of that novel you love so much. And I’ll come join you when I’m done. I promise.”
You tippy toe and then press a kiss to his forehead. 
“Baby, trust me.”
Kim Dokja then kisses your cheeks, before you decide to skip the formalities to kiss him on the lips. It was all it took for Kim Dokja to let go, and interlace your hands.
Soft and sweet, Kim Dokja felt loved with how gentle you are with him. He doesn’t want you to go. 
And he will miss you when you are gone. 
Kiss Me Slowly, Show Me You Love Me
Kim Dokja knew you were the one when you jumped after him.
"Kim Dokja!"
When he saw you reach out for him as he fell from that rooftop in middle school.
When you proposed to him on one knee, and kissed his hands as you whisk him away from his miserable reality.
He knew you were the one, when you cried for him, and saved his life, again and again.
“Don’t touch him. Even if you are his mother and my mother-in-law, you have no right to kill him to prove a point.” 
“Move.” 
“Over my dead body.” 
Kim Dokja could barely see you standing before his sleeping body, beside Han Sooyoung, protecting him from his mother.
[The Fourth Wall is shaking] 
“You don’t know anything.” 
“That’s fine with me. I trust Dokja more than you.” In the next moment, he felt a cloud form underneath him, followed by curses and gunshots being fired. 
“It’s you! You’re the one who he loves the most! And you’re going to kill him!”
Feeling your calloused hands on top of his head, he saw many versions of you pop out. 
Was it the duplication skill that the Monkey King had? 
“I’ll break the prophecy because I will never hurt my baby.” 
Kim Dokja smiled faintly, before he lost consciousness again. 
Because Only You Can Kill Me
“Baby, you can’t do this.” 
The world is silent for once. The channel was off and both of you paid the price for such privacy. 
“It’s the only way.” 
“Kim Dokja.” He flinches when you call his full name, you never do.
“I have to. It’s the only way that the story will move on.” 
“There has to be another way.” You purse your lips and rub your temples. 
“There has to be a way.”
Kim Dokja held your hand solemnly. 
“There is no other way-”
“Shut up!” You shook off his hand in anger. 
He knows you know that this was the easiest way. 
“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself!” 
That’s why you’re angry. 
He hugs you from behind. 
“You’re an idiot for even thinking that, there has to be another way!” You break out of his hold and stare at him straight in the eye. 
“If only I had more power-” Kim Dokja grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart.
“(Y/N), I only trust you. You know that right?” Kim Dokja smiles. 
“You’re the only one who can kill me. No one else can.” He felt your hand tremble as you took a shaky breath. 
“So please…kill me.” 
So the story can go on.
“Don’t look at me like that baby.” You say after short deliberation. 
Finally, with a subtle nod, you conceded with tears rolling down your cheeks. 
Then, without further ado, Kim Dokja pulls you in desperately, and both of you were surprised when he was the first to initiate the kiss. 
But when the two of you are so intimate and so close to one another, knowing that the future is uncertain, neither of you want to let go. 
Please, Make Me Your Everything
Kim Dokja feels so desperate in this apocalyptic world. 
He’s planning and looking so far ahead using his knowledge of the novel, and sometimes, he feels like an outlier. 
Perhaps he is. 
Just like he always has. 
But when he’s in your arms as you plant kisses from his collarbone and trails to his neck, he feels at the center of the world, your world. 
Slowly, he feels you kiss his jawline before going closer and closer to his lips, and feels impatient with how slow you are. Every single kiss tingles on his skin, making him remember every precious moment he had with you.
He will never admit it, but he’s frightened for the future. Not about his death (because he will come back, he has a backup for that), but during his absence. 
You are strong and responsible enough to lead the team, but he was afraid that you were going to take on the burden alone. 
When he finally feels your lips on his, he pulls you closer, treasuring every second of you just like how you make him feel alive everyday. 
“Baby. What’s wrong?” Your fingers gently wipe his tear away as you hold him, and when he feels your tears drop on him, he couldn’t help himself. 
“I’m sorry. I just…” 
“Shh, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I trust you.” Kissing him on his nose gave him butterflies, but even so, he couldn’t get rid of this bitterness in his heart. 
“I love you. I love you. I love you so much.” Dokja repeated the same words until his voice croaked and his lips became dry.
All the while you ruffled his hair and massaged his scalp, and responded to each of his confessions with affirmation. 
“We’re gonna be okay, and you’re gonna be okay. I’ll wait for you Baby.”
That night, Kim Dokja cried himself to sleep in your arms, and for the first time in a long time, he felt warm, secure, and well-rested. 
So when he feels his own sword pierce through his heart painlessly by the one who he swore his eternity to, he feels just as safe and happy. 
You catches him as he falls, as you cry silently and reminds him to come back soon. 
“Don’t forget me, please.” 
How could he? When you’re the one who chose to move forward with the story, when you’re the one who will face his team after their reckless plan?  
He was already greedy and selfish, wanting you to never forget him and wait for him, however long that may be.
Kim Dokja is a fool.
An idiot that only makes you cry.
With a strained smile, he nods before noticing the notification above. 
[Incarnation ‘Kim Dokja’ will be killed by the person he loves the most]
When he wakes up, he promises that he will never sacrifice himself again.
But the story must go on.
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koiiiji · 26 days ago
Text
too late
author’s note ; apology for this post (this one gonna be even more angst😈😈)
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the bar filled with quiet jazz, the subdued warm light cast long shadows on the red and black walls. you’d almost forgotten why you agreed to be here — until Goo had spun some wild story about needing your help. “it’ll be a small favor,” he’d said, grinning in that easy way that made you drop your guard. “just a few minutes, promise.”
but as you glanced around, you caught sight of someone you hadn’t expected to see. Gitae Kim.
he stood by the bar, lounging as if he owned the place, a drink in one hand and his expression oozing that signature careless confidence. the years hadn’t changed him much, you thought, feeling your chest tighten. he looked a little older, sharper around the edges, but still had that smug, arrogant gleam in his eye.
before you could slip away into the darkness of the bar, Goo spotted you, waving you over with an excited grin. you froze, feeling the air around you thicken as Gitae turned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he recognized you.
“what a surprise!” Goo drawled, giving you both an obnoxious wink. “didn’t know you two knew each other.” after a tense, long and silent pause, Goo quickly melted away, coming up with an excuse that he needs to meet someone else leaving you standing alone with the one person you’d hoped to avoid forever.
Gitae’s lips curled into a smirk. “long time no see, huh?” his tone was smooth, playful, but there was something in his gaze, something that stirred up memories you’d buried deep.
you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “yeah. it’s been a while.”
he tilted his head, eyes roving over you in a way that felt too familiar, too intense. “you look good,” he said, leaning in slightly, the smug amusement in his voice unmissable. “almost like you missed me.”
this bastard. “you’re delusional,” you shot back, hating how shaky your voice sounded, hating even more that he seemed to enjoy it.
“come on.” he shrugged, that lazy smile playing on his lips. “admit it. i bet you missed me, just a little.” his hand brushed against your arm, lingering for just a second too long, as if he wanted to keep you there, right within reach.
you recoiled slightly, a flood of memories hitting you hard — the fights, the bitterness, and the last night you’d seen him.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
the door crashed open, Gitae storming in well past midnight, his eyes flicking over you with irritation as you stood waiting in the dim light. you’d stayed up, hoping, just hoping he’d actually be home for once, hoping you could talk, but one look at his face told you it wouldn’t be easy.
“you’re still awake?” he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he tossed his jacket on the couch. did he have this leather jacket before? it reeked of blood.
“of course i’m awake,” you snapped, anger and heartbreak mixing in your voice. “you haven’t been home before three a.m. in weeks, Gitae. you’re shutting me out like i don’t even matter to you anymore.”
he laughed, low and humorless, rolling his eyes. “oh, so this is what you were waiting up for? to nag me about my schedule again?” he sneered, voice dripping with contempt. “don’t you have anything better to do?”
“better than worrying about us?” you threw back, your voice rising with frustration. “you used to care about this, about us, but now you’re never here, never talk to me. it’s like… it’s like you’d rather i just disappear.”
“don't speak nonsense” he chuckled, but his gaze cold and unfeeling. “if i wanted to, i wouldn't be here anymore”
after a small pause he add “why do you even make this a big deal? i don’t need you waiting up, checking in on me like i’m a child. i have my own life outside of you, you know.”
“your own life? Gitae, you used to want to be here!” you shot back, your voice rising in frustration. “you used to be a part of this home, part of us. and now… it’s like you’d rather be anywhere else. you’ve shut me out.”
“god, you’re being so dramatic,” he snapped, his voice cutting. “it’s exhausting. every damn day, as if i owe you every second of my time.”
his words hit you like a slap, and something in you broke. “you know what? you’re not even a fraction of the man i thought you were. you’re turning into everything you hate — you’re becoming exactly like your father, and you don’t even see it!”
you knew what you just said. and you knew there would be consequences of this words. Gitae’s expression darkened, and in an instant, he crossed the room, fury in his eyes as he grabbed you, his hand tightening around your throat. “don’t you ever compare me to him,” he hissed, his voice cold, each word dripping with rage.
“then stop acting like him!” you shot back, even as your voice trembled.
for a moment, he just stared at you, fury and something else flickering in his eyes. then he just turning toward the door without a second glance.
you felt a surge of pain, an ache spreading through your throat, but you refused to let him leave, refused to let this end without answers. you staggered to your feet, getting in his way, your voice rising in desperation. “don’t you dare to walk out on me, Gitae! we have to finish this!”
he glared at you, his patience worn thin. “i’m done talking,” he said coldly, his tone laced with finality. when you didn’t move, he scowled and pushed you back, harder than he meant to.
the force sent you stumbling aside, the shock of it sharp as you bumped into nearby chest of drawer and fell to the floor. a blinding pain flaring in your abdomen. a strangled cry escaped you, and you clutched your stomach. tears streamed down your face, but gitae was already gone, the door slamming behind him, leaving you alone in the silence, the empty ache of loss flooding over you.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
you snapped back to the present, feeling his eyes on you, a strange glint in his gaze. he leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “you still look at me the same way. bet i’m still the one who gets under your skin, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you said, but it came out weak, unconvincing. his proximity, the warmth of his presence — it was too much, bringing back emotions you’d tried so hard to bury.
“ah, don’t be like that,” he murmured, voice softening as he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. his touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the memory that lingered between you. “you know i can’t stay away from you.”
you tensed, feeling the weight of his gaze, of everything unsaid between you. did he really think he could just flirt his way back in, like none of it mattered?
he leaned back, folding his arms, eyes roving over you with a slight smirk. “so… what happened to you after i left? did you finally find some boring guy to settle down with?”
the question hung in the air, and suddenly, the ache in your chest returned, sharper this time. your hand drifted to your stomach instinctively, as if trying to soothe a loss he’d never know.
Gitae’s eyes followed the motion, his expression shifting from amusement to confusion. he tilted his head, “wait… don’t tell me you actually…” his voice trailed off, something cold settling in his eyes. “…a kid?”
you shook your head slowly, feeling the weight of everything you hadn’t said pressing down on you. “no,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “it didn’t… last.”
realization dawned on him, his expression faltering as Gitae pieced it together. he turned pale, something almost like regret was on his face. his eyes flicked back to your hand, lingering there as if he could see the invisible scar you carried.
“you…” his voice was barely a whisper, a strange mix of disbelief and something else, something that almost looked like guilt. he swallowed hard, shifting his weight as if the air around him had grown too heavy. “i didn’t know.”
the words hung between you, empty and hollow. of course he hadn’t known. back then he’d walked out without a second thought, leaving you to face it alone, to deal with the loss and the pain in silence.
for once, he was silent, his usual arrogance muted as he looked at you, really looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. you could see the faint crack in his facade, the way his jaw tightened, the brief flicker of something like shame in his gaze.
but then, almost as quickly as it had come, Gitae forced a crooked grin, slipping back into that casual arrogance like it was a second skin. “well,” he muttered, grabbing his glass again, “guess we all have our regrets, huh?”
it was a pathetic attempt to cover his own discomfort, and you felt a wave of anger rise in your chest, fierce and unrelenting. he’d always been like this, brushing off everything that didn’t fit his image of himself, refusing to acknowledge the damage he left in his wake.
“yeah,” you replied, voice icy, “but not everyone gets to walk away from them.”
for a moment, his mask faltered, his gaze darkening as he opened his mouth to respond. but no words came. maybe, for once, he was realizing the weight of what he’d done.
“you think you can just act like nothing happened, that it was all just a rough patch?” you said, your voice shaking. “i had to deal with everything alone because of you.”
his mouth opened, but this time, no smug comeback, no deflection. he looked away, the faintest hint of regret in his eyes, like he was grappling with a truth he didn’t want to accept.
“i’m sorry,” he murmured finally, voice barely audible, as if the words were foreign to him. but you could see in his gaze that it wasn’t enough, that he still didn’t understand, not fully.
you shook your head, taking a step back. “it's too late, Gitae. too late for apologies.”
he reached out as if to stop you, his eyes searching yours, maybe looking for something he couldn’t name. but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of another word. turning, you walked away, leaving him alone with the weight of a regret he would never fully admit.
MASTERLIST
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otakuworks · 11 months ago
Note
Hiiiiiii it's my first time asking, I really love ur genshin works and this may be a very huge request but I've been having a brainrot where Genshin men are in particular manhwa and the reader gets to be the protagonist.
My idea is Xiao as Duke Kedrey from Villainess is a Marionette, cuz he treasure his personal bubble and really is a strong warrior like Raphael.
Maybe Scara as Rezef, it's self explanatory lol
Or Childe as Jeremy Agriche from Roxana. He'll spoil his darling rotten and relationship can be quite toxic but still healthy nonetheless.
Or Kaeya as Heinrey from The Remarried Empress. They're both Casanovas and hot looking❤❤
Or Razor as Nine from Beware of the Villainess.
I know it's too much and you ignore this if you want if it's a bit overwhelming. But if you do, it's okay to not do all of it, I'll be satisfied even just with one. Thank you and have a great day!!!!
❛ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 𝐌𝐋. manhwa au
feat. Xiao, Scara, Childe, Kaeya, Bennett x GN!Reader | wc. 9.1Kaeya
disclaimer. if you haven't read any of these manhwas, don't worry, i won't spoil the story that much anyway. this fic will only be based on the manhwa and I'll try to explain it as the best I can do. and the first few bulleted paragraphs are the overview of the manhwa or the character.
note. this is genius level idea. thank you for requesting, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this prompt and reach 10k words lmao. I never got to write for razor 'cuz I still have to continue reading beware of the villainess but I do have an idea for bennett (my sec fav dps) in this prompt. i might do a part 2 with diluc who knows
cw. psychological, suggestive themes, yandere, childe
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main m.list genshin m.list
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𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 / 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 as 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇��𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 !
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Not a single soul in the Empire does not know the fierce infatuation you harbor for the young Duke Alatus of Kedrey Dukedom. From his stunning golden eyes and dark green hair, everywhere he goes demands spotlight.
Ever since you caught the sight of him in one of the balls you were attending, you clung onto him like a leech, always closing the proximity, writing letters, and initiating conversation with him in hopes he'll reciprocate your feelings
Every interaction fills you with contentment and confidence. You're the eldest child of the Emperor, dignified, stunning and kind. Who wouldn't want an Imperial Nobility like you?
However, you've gotten way too engrossed for your undying love for him that you swept away the constant threat looming above you and your title as the Imperial Nobel.
The ballroom shimmers with golden lights, and the air buzzes with the sound of laughter and polite conversation with the soft hum of elegant music relaxing the nerves in the background, setting the perfect backdrop for the prestigious event where the whole Royal Family would be making an appearance.
Most notable Royal Family member to present was Y/N L/N, whom the rumors were circulating about of plausible marriage proposal to a certain Duke, unsurprisingly.
"Alatus!" You maneuvered your way to him, seemingly shameless for calling his name without his title before it.
"Your Highness." He greeted in such a desultory tone that anyone can deduce he's anything but ecstatic to see you.
You've known how distant and cold he acts toward everybody, but you were cursed with such a dense mind to comprehend he doesn't treat you any different; his stiff actions like simple greeting and short response equates how much he craves to stay furtive, contorted expressions and averting gazes are him expressing his displeasure in your presence and he definitely ignores your letters.
And yet you hope you can change his views of you by approaching him because of your burgeoning feelings. It didn't cross your mind how much he values his personal space and kept on insisting your infatuation, unbeknownst how much it irritates him.
"I'm glad you are here. Did you read my letters? I was hoping for your reply since last month but you remained unresponsive. I thought you might have been busy so you forgot to reply." You rambled on and on, you're too close for his liking but out of respect to your title as the Imperial Highness, Alatus stays silent.
One of the attendants offered you a chocolate dessert and you ate without regards, even offering one to the Duke. "I'm not a fan of sweets, Your Highness." He refused, eyes twitching.
"Oh? I apologize for that. It seems— *COUGH*"
For once, one expression painted the Duke's face out of all the times he wears his stoic facade. However, you don't know if you should be glad he's looking at you like that, he looks mortified.
"Imperial Highness! Quick! Fetch the doctor!" A Duchess yelled with clear distraught as she watches you slumped over the floor, coughing blood and alarmingly paling each second.
This incident is quite common amongst nobles.
You were poisoned.
Whoever did such thing never got to register in your brain as the poison intensifies and you doubled over from the scorching pain. Black dots danced in your vision, tempting to lure your eyes to close and pain only pushed you to do so
You barely registered the rushing footsteps of the guards or the nobles screaming before darkness greeted you like an old friend.
The Imperial Palace busied themselves for the recovery of the eldest royal, it even for busier when you were comatose. Security has been tight since then, there were more than necessary numbers of guards stationed outside your room.
Duke Alatus seems neutral with everything, rumors spread among the nobels that he never care for their highness, Y/N.
While it is true that he shows nothing but malice towards your incongruous advances, he does appreciate your efforts of getting closer on a microscopic level and deep down, there's a tinge of concern pricking his numb heart.
Still, his hatred and pride overpowers his concern, he never once visited you, not that visitors are allowed in the Imperial Palace anyway.
He does ask his informants regarding of your health condition. No one can gauge what thoughts running in his mind when he does so much as stare at the informant with a straight face.
And then one day, he received the news of your recovery, that you're finally awake.
You've been awakened by a startling nightmare that rattled your mind awake. For a comatose person in a cool air room, your forehead is sedimented with perspiration and all you can think of is how to escape from your wretched room.
Your maid came in only to react in astonishment to see you sitting up. When she asks how are you faring, you responded neither politely nor dismissively, when the doctor checked your vitals, you didn't throw a tantrum like you always do.
Behind your veil is a person desperate to survive the Imperial Palace before another catastrophic event occurs in the near future. You have to change your ways, it is for your benefit anyway.
The maid was suspicious of your every changing behavior as you were known for beautiful and luxurious nobel who throws jaundiced looks on anyone who do so much as to stare at Alatus.
Speaking of the Duke, you only realize he has no intention of reciprocating your feelings through the maids during your comatose state because there are times you lay there immobilized but your sense of hearing never fails you.
It was a bitter reality, you genuinely feel infatuated to the Duke and want nothing more but to know him better.
Unfortunately, your ways of showing affection is not appreciated to a man who values his dignity and protects his people first.
You chuckled at your stupidity, it was all spelled out for you to decipher but you chose to remain ignorant to the truth and now you got the deserving consequences of your actions. You suffer.
If time permits, you'd like to steer clear with Duke Alatus and seek forgiveness for the time you made him feel like an unworthy man who only attracts potential suitors by his looks and reputation.
He's so much more than that, and hopefully he'll find the right person who can show him love beyond on what you can give him.
For now you want to focus on running away from the Imperial Palace until the storm passes.
Weeks flew by and you've been attending more social balls to tell the whole empire that you've survived the assassination attempt, to convey nothing can hold you down. But to also give you enough time to map your escape in the palace.
It's not an easy task to fly away from the palace with the noble title on your head. Therefore, you would need someone to help you get away legally.
"M-Marriage?" Sputtered the Duke Alatus.
So much for asking for his forgiveness.
"I'm aware it sounds a salacious scheme to tie you down with me and I can only offer you my sincere words that I no longer bear any infatuation toward you, Duke. I've accepted the fact you have no room for romance and moved on. I hope you do the same and accept this contract. It's beneficial for both parties."
Sure it sounds like a scam and Alatus doesn't want to end up like his friend, Zhongli, who gets scam from left and right.
What baffles him is you sitting with such poise and authority that he no longer can see the past you who kept chasing him for answers to your confessions. You've matured. Mature enough to handle a crucial negotiation.
And it raises the question.
What happened?
He only knows you as the Royal Noble who follows him with lovesick eyes. He wasn't informed you could be downright. . . sexy.
"Your face is red, Duke. Is everything alright?"
"Yes." A pragmatic answer coming from a man punching himself on his mind for thinking lewd things about you.
"I'm not expecting a direct answer now, Duke. Take as much time as you need, but be reminded that I also have limited time. If you are not able to give me your answer within a month, I'll exterminate our negotiation and never speak it ever again."
Silence reigned supreme, the Duke's face never betrayed any emotion while you held your head high as you sip your tea. "I hope to hear your answer soon, Duke Alat—"
"I accept."
You blinked comically. "I beg your pardon?"
"I accept your offer."
"W-What? Are you certain?"
He leaned back and crossed his arms. "I am a soldier, everything I do is with certainty. I do not rush nor stall."
Your eyes escaped his scrutinizing gaze and slapped yourself at the back of your mind. Who were you kidding, of course Alatus wouldn't waste time and prefer to give direct answer. Times like this make you realize you don't know him at all and yet you claimed that you love him. Embarrassing.
"I understand. Starting tomorrow we are publicly a couple within 6 months, you help me with my escape and I'll help you in your foreign affairs under the Royal family's name."
You stuck your hand out for him to shake. "I'll be in your care."
"As I am."
Headline: "Royal Highness Y/N L/N and Duke Alatus Kedrey relationship has recently caused rumors to suggest their Highness Y/N has eloped with the Duke."
"This is an overkill." A nervous chuckle rumbled from you.
"I think it's justifiable." Countered the Duke.
"I believe so. What worries me is your take in this."
A frown settled deep in his eyebrows. "Worried?"
You mirrored his expression. "This headline would most likely attract journalists to interview you, possibly even dig your background to quench their thirst for answers." You paused and walked ahead of him in the garden.
"Knowing you don't like anyone to probe into your private life, it worries me to think about the plausible frauds you'll experience." You couldn't see his expression as you sighed.
Unbeknownst to you, his face is crunched up, forming an expression of what you can call it. . . confusion? Your words perplexed him to a whole new degree.
Weeks ago you were throwing yourself at him, you could care less of his feelings and only care for him to love you back, you did unimaginable things that he finds pathetic. You were selfsh, self-centered and other synonymous words.
But now. . .
Alatus sighed, massaging his temples. No use of thinking hard about their change, it could be a facade to let my guard down. As if that would ever happen anyway.
"I am not worthy of your concern, Your Highness. Please be rest assured that mere words won't affect this contract."
"Y/N."
"Pardon?"
"Call me Y/N when we're in public. It'd cause a stir if a couple address each other formally. Would it be alright if I call you by your first name?"
Again, you're being unusually solicitous for him. He was too stunned to speak and you took it as a negative sign.
"Do tell me when you're comfortable enough to let me call—"
"Why are you like this?" He bluntly asked.
You blinked owlishly. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
"Why are you pretending to be nice?"
You inwardly sighed. Of course there's no way he'll fall for your 'nice change' if anything, it made him more suspicious of your behavior. But really, you're showing genuine care for his needs and always try your best to assist him.
"I highly doubt you remember our first meeting, for you it might've been the worst day of your life. For me? It was the opposite."
"What?"
"My father is not as loving and caring for most people would think. Oh no, he's far from those, he's cruel and abusive." Alatus' eyes sharpened at the indication of domestic violence.
"He only saw me as a child who'd bring glory to the Empire, he cares for what value I can impart on behalf of his reputation. I have the beauty after all, but not the brains nor brawns. And he couldn't be satisfied with it." A bitter chuckle came from you.
"When I saw you at the ball, I was mesmerized like most men and women at first glance. You're dignified, strong, insightful and top of that you're undeniably gorgeous. I admire you like the rest of the population because you have everything my father wanted from me. I thought all those qualities were unreachable, and yet you exist. You made me feel inferior and I became insecure of myself. I only have my pretty face, without it I'm nothing but a disposable ornament. Do you know who poisoned me that night?"
He says nothing for a little while. He knew the answer right before you even asked. "Your father." There's a bite in his words.
"Perceptive as always, Duke Alatus." He couldn't match your careless words. If he was perceptive he would've figure out you feel threatened at your own home. He— Archons! He's pissed!
And for what reason? He asked himself.
"I pursued you since then, thinking my father would change the way he treats me if I had you with me, a perfect son-in-law— maybe then he'd look the way I expect a loving father would." Fists clenched, you tightly closed your eyes.
"I was a fool, alright. When he realized you're not interested in me, he deemed me worthless, hence why I was poisoned. He wanted to eliminate a thing that has no value anymore. It took me years to realize that he would never love me. No one would."
You've never experienced love, let alone how to show it properly. Only the Duke Alatus ever made you feel like a human worthy of showing basic manners to you without the influence of your title.
Your first meeting with him left a huge impression. It was at your debutant party, nobles attended and gossips were shared. A night that should've your spotlight, but it felt far from it.
For instance, you constantly felt out of place, as if you don't really belong in the social groups of nobility. Which was richly hypocritical, considering you also had an appetite for attention over individuality. The dichotomy left you uncertain on many occasions and you felt obligated to mask yourself behind a much more "proper" exterior. You can't define what's exactly proper, and so you would always second guess everything you do as feeble as greeting a new face and ask yourself if it's at their satisfactory.
At the end of the night, no one even noticed the star of the night had gone missing amidst their debut celebration. All except one.
Perched on the rim of the fountain, your bare feet submerged in the pool of water.
The cold sensation is strangely comforting, add the cool breeze of the night and you feel oddly at peace. Somehow contradictory to what you've read in romance books that people under stress usually crave the warmth of their partner. Perhaps the absence of love made you hunger for whatever's available for comfort, starving people will eat anything after all.
"Reduced to just sitting around. How absurd."
A frightening shriek escaped your lips, you made a hasty turn as the water splashed as you move. But that soon morphed in relief, the man in front of you impose no danger, if anything you'd feel the safest in his presence.
Duke Alatus is revered as the Hero in his Liyue Empire, the strongest fighter and apparently most handsome man to exist. And boy do those rumors did him any justice.
You've seen him from afar and couldn't help but fall for him at first sight, you wanted to get closer but you were always reminded how worthless you are and that someone like him would never bother batting their eyes to you.
And yet, he's here. In the flesh.
"What are you doing here?" You praised yourself for not stuttering in his presence. He merely shrugged before standing a few meet away from where you're sitting.
"I missed the chance to greet the host a blessed birthday, only to know that they've disappeared. Do you have a habit of playing hide and seek among your peers?" The satirical undertone must've flew over your ear and you looked at him, slightly aghast.
"H-How did you know I wasn't there?"
No one paid attention to you. So why would he?
He sighed, "Didn't you hear me? I was going to greet you but you somehow vanished in your party."
"You searched for me?"
He scoffed, "I'm here, aren't I? What kind of host would leave their debutante party behind?"
"You could've gone with your evening without pleasantries. It wouldn't reflect on your reputation, only mine, so why bother go all through this trouble to find me?" He gave you a blank look, but his eyes blinked in slight disbelief at your query.
"It wasn't trouble finding you, really. . . unless you prefer being alone at the moment, I can leave."
"No! I mean — ehem. . . you can stay." You muttered, an underlying embarrassment was present in your voice.
He perched an eyebrow. "You are an odd one as the rumors say."
It was a turning point to you. Being emotionally repressed and touch starved you are, you wanted more after the first sign of attention from him.
He gave you an ounce of your need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be worthy of someone's time. It was enough for you to take it as a sign to pursue him.
But you realized a little too late that he would never reciprocate your feelings and the so-called "love" you have for him is the result of years being deprived from any compassion. You've mistaken hunger for love.
"Now you know the reason behind my desperation of escape and the need to change in order to succeed. Truthfully, I don't know if I'm doing the right thing of being considerate and all that. I have to apologize for making such attempts without researching." You made a mental note to visit the library later.
"Anyway, I've said many things today. Let's settle �� OMPH!"
A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and you were pulled backwards, only to softly bumped against a firm chest. "H-Huh? What's the matter, Duke?" You dumbly asked as you tilted your head up to glance at him.
His bangs shrouded whatever expression he has on his face. "You have my permission to call me Alatus, be it in public or private."
"Oh, OK." You're quite baffled what his actions are supposed to convey. Isn't he supposed to dislike physical contact?
"I first saw you as an incompetent noble, a typical royalty who's strength is heavily reliant on outward beauty." Damn, you should add straightforwardness in your compliments for him. "I've seen pretty faces everywhere, yours is nothing special."
"I've heard enough!" You tugged away from his grip, stinging tears threaten to fall. To think your only strength has been trampled on just like that feels like your hope vanishing. Your face is your only gateway to freedom and it—
"Tis why I am amazed to see you acquiring new strengths in your arsenal." E/C eyes found themselves clashing with Alatus' golden hues, there's a glint of emotion you couldn't decipher.
"Your Hi — Y/N, I promise to get you out of this hellhole. Our contract can exceed the 6 month rule for all I care." A blooming emotion spreads in you. He cares enough to finally notice you and your pain, and he's here to help you.
Don't get the wrong idea, self. He's helping me as an ally because he has a good heart. But I know I don't deserve someone so kind and he doesn't deserve someone so broken. I understand our fate is only meant for this; my savior and his misfortune.
You sighed as you remind yourself with that set boundaries. "You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you, Alatus."
"There's nothing to be grateful for. I'm happy to help someone in need, it's more than enough."
You smiled. And his heart skipped a beat.
A pretty face with a genuine bright grin.
You're beautiful when you're being you.
No bitterness. No ill-concealed pain. He has to rethink his words about your ''mediocre'' beauty.
It pisses me off when you sell yourself short with degrading thoughts, you're no mere ornament. You deserve to be loved, Y/N. I admire your strength and determination. You're a lot stronger than I was when I needed the strength to fight, you're someone I aimed to be in my darkest time. So, keep going and don't ever hesitate to call my name for help.
Little did they both know, Y/N was falling out of love while Alatus is falling in.
𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐈!𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 as 𝐑𝐄𝐙𝐄𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 !
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Many wise nobles would not dare cross paths with Prince Scaramouche Hill, his temperamental issues and rude behavior garnered him the reputation of a tyrant, but Y/N L/N had never counted themselves among the very wise.
You're the main character in every horror movie that instead of getting away from the first sign of danger, you run towards it because. . . why not? Where's the story if they'd just run away?
Wouldn't you guess it. You accepted his marriage proposal.
Now the question lingers: WHY?!
"Now, now. . . There is no need for such hasty decisions, for if such marriage were to be cancelled, then so too would the beneficial ties between our families. Is this what you truly want? A marriage for political convenience is what is being sought here, not love."
His ingenious words has been embedded in your mind ever since you avidly rejected the marriage proposal from the Empress herself. Making it much more difficult to retire on grounds of a healthy rejection was a rather callous way of dealing with part of the problem when the Prince himself outrightly called you out.
From the get-go, he was a walking red flag blessed with bewitching charms that you have fallen victim to. You've heard the rumors, he's anything but a saint, his looks might say otherwise but you've acquainted with his ugly side to conclude that your life will be full of thorns once you've wed.
This callous sentiment should chill you — maybe it would, if you heeded the alarm bells ringing in your mind — but fascination triumphs over any deterrent. What would it be like to get to know this Prince? Can I make this marriage work?
#icanfixhim
The wedding ceremony went smoothly, vows were pronounced and rings were exchanged. Though the two of you never really said it aloud, you both weren't ready for the. . . "marital duties"
For tonight, the servants prepared the room the newlyweds will share with unimaginable extravagance, there were rose petals littered in a heart shaped in your bed, candles on each of the bedside table and two bottles of what it looks like strong liquor across the room, definitely intended.
You entered the shared room gripping your nightwear and promptly chugging down the liquor at your leisure.
Scaramouche is yet to come in this new room, part of you hoped you'll be too drunk to fulfill the marital duties. But as you look at the window, mirroring your inner turmoil, you know it's pointless.
It’s a moonless night, heavy with the weight of regret, shattered dreams and a long road of loveless marriage.
You clutched the remnants of your sanity and drowned yourself in the bitter solace of liquid courage to feel the emotions you’d been avoiding. If you'll lose everything in one night, might as well be under the influence to numb the feelings away.
The bottle was harshly snatched from your hand. "Do you plan to do this while you are drunk? Is this what they have taught you?" Came from your new husband.
The liquor did the best job to give you the courage to speak up to him, something that you lacked when he snagged your confidence at the lowest as you rejected this marriage.
"Someone has to be educated in the bedroom?" There's a sardonic undertone as you sway your head. "Well, pardon me, Prince. You barged in my home, proposed this bullshit and expect me to be knowledgeable in the art of pleasure in one week?"
You drunkenly stood up and mustered your best glare-that-can-put-you-sixfeet-under. "You. . . I gave you a benefit of a doubt and accepted this marriage thinking you're a subject of those biased rumors, but you absolutely pale in comparison."
This is where you're expecting expletives insults from him, his pride has been put to the test and Scaramouche was not known for his leniency.
In your drunken stupor, only the blur outline of his masculinity shadows your figure. Before you could retort anything else, he had lunged himself to you, specifically towards your lips.
Surprised marred your drunken face, what's more surprising was how gentle he moved his lips with yours, you'd expect him to be rough in intimacy which what greatly contributed to your anxiety but his gentle actions made you think otherwise.
Are we really doing this?
A hand cupped your cheek as if guiding you to tilt your head to the side while yours gripped the bed sheets. His lips traversed the corner of your lips down to your jaw, rendering you speechless as breathy moans escaped.
He must have noticed your reaction and promptly detached himself from you and you can finally breathe.
"I'm only marking you," His voice was incredibly soft, it was like another soul possessed his body, "We both don't want this. . . whether by obligation or not and I won't cross it. At least by marking you, it'll make people think we have done it."
Scaramouche raised your chin slightly and lifted your face towards him. Now both your faces were looking at each other. He was staring deep into your eyes, as if he was looking for your permission.
There's a certain way Scaramouche takes in your appearance — a thorough observation that doesn't miss the smallest detail about you.
What he sees are things he's familiar with. An enticing body and face which speaks of power and a strong will. A sharp mind, which makes him feel he's found an equal in intelligence. Someone who he wouldn't have to manipulate or trick into submission. . . because he knows he could get there with affection and a proper hand. And, perhaps above all, the way you look at him. As he does to you. . . there's a burning desire.
Why does he have to make this difficult for me?
His hands slide over your body in a smooth, slow way which makes your mind go numb. His hands cup you and caress the shape of your form. Your eyes close as his hands take their place in your hair. . . holding it like a trophy.
With the way he was raised by the Empress, Raiden Shogun, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Scaramouche views you as a property to own rather than a living human who possessed feelings.
The taste, the feeling of his lips against your neck, his breath against your neck. It's intoxicating. . . and leaves you gasping for more and your stomach fluttering. You feel his lips trail towards your neck, and just when you thought he'd move up to your lips — he sinks his teeth in just enough to leave a mark without hurting you.
"This should be enough."
As quickly as he left the mark so was his presence in the room as he hastily stood up and left without making so much noise.
The morning after your consummation, you thought he might treat you a little better than before but he seemed to have reversed back to his old self once again. Archons!
When nothing goes his way he'll use you as a ventilation, and you took every jabbing words and flying objects thrown. You never once complained, not when you know his soft side.
Pitied looks and whispers of sympathy were your daily highlights, everyone in the castle knows how badly the Prince has been treating you since the first day. But that's not true, he treated you like a human on your consummation night, he was more than a Prince with temper tantrums.
If only you can understand His Highness, though. Try as you might. . . You just didn't get him. It seemed like he was made up of several personalities that were constantly getting in each other's way.
"Fuck." Scaramouche was now slumped on the floor.
It was one of those days he'd use you as his target of frustration, nothing new. Scaramouche has tendency to temper tantrums. But today, his eyes brimmed with tears.
Scaramouche himself probably wasn't aware of his vulnerability, he would immediately leave your room and do god knows what.
"Your Highness?" Your meek voice was barely comprehensible in his ears, he was visibly trembling with his head tucked in his arms.
"Go away!" Despite his harsh refute, there's an underlying tone of a defeated man. It hurts to see him like this, nobody deserves to experience pain no matter the circumstances of their birth — Scaramouche shouldn't be an exception to this.
"But you're in pain." You frowned deeply and kneeled beside his trembling form, far enough to not trigger his fight or flight instinct.
"I'm always in pain!" He was shouting and mumbling to himself, but it didn't slip past your senses that he was almost whining about his situation, similar to a child crying out for his mother.
"You don't have to be if you let people help you."
"Help me. . .?" He reiterated the words as if it's in foreign language.
A sense of dread flood your senses as you silently gulped, but you remained rooted in your spot beside him.
"Yes, I know you're not used to it, you're probably denying it in your head as I speak. I won't force you to seek help, but know that someone would be willing to help you." Lies, he knew your words were baseless reassurance to make him feel better.
"Yeah, and I treat you well." He sputtered those words with condescending ire and finally look up to you with so much loathsome in his purple eyes. "You're no different than the people who have deceived me."
Your eyebrows shot in surprise. So he had people who took him for granted? It's no wonder he was shaped like this — spiteful and vindictive. It was easier for him like this, to let people hate him than take advantage of whatever's left of him.
"I'm not deceiving you, Your Highness. I'm willing to help you."
"Do you take me as an idiot? Words hold no value or truth behind them." He spat bitterly and a firm scowl marred his expression before he sauntered to the exit.
"Willing?" He scoffed and finally stood up, unraveling his height that was only inch taller than yours. "Don't make me laugh, people like you always have ulterior motives to help."
"I'm not like one of those people. I give you my word for that."
"Your words prove me nothing. Get out of my sight!"
"But this is my room. . ."
His eyes twitched. "This is our room."
"Okay! I'll go!" You surrendered and stumbled your way out of the room without looking back.
Scaramouche wasn't aware when it began, he does know the feeling started off as a small simmer from a pot of heated water. He finds himself beginning to notice every small detail of you.
It began with him noticing the small dimples on your cheek when you smile or laugh with your full heart instead of the prim and proper laugh from etiquette lessons.
He noticed your habits depending on your mood — your hands become restless when anxious, your eyes dart anywhere but his eyes when you're uncomfortable, or the way you bit your lip when feeling awkward.
Is this. . .
Love. Scaramouche hated that word for love is always affiliated with trust which both reeked of vulnerability, and the sort of emotion that the Prince couldn't afford to display — not when all it had ever done in the past was cause him torment. The past, he had felt resentful because the Empress had handed over too much baggage unilaterally to him — his Princely upbringing, the sole heir duties, arranged marriage. Damn it all.
Thereafter, he had acquired unnecessary headaches from his supposed spouse. He had wrongly assumed your character, for after showing you early signs of his apparent animosity, it only fed your burning curiosity.
He was quick to chalk it up as your naivety, you did reject the proposal for the sole purpose of finding true love.
Only fools would expect love from a mere paper contract. If he had any sympathy left he would gladly drown you with it.
But his assumptions got stomped when you displayed regal actions against the nobles who badmouthed you about the marriage. It was expected that negative rumors would spread and most people would merely pretend they're deaf. You, on the other hand, confronted them and stood up for yourself.
You're far from naive, it seems. If not naive, then what's driving you to endure his treatment and keep leeching from him? The question blanketed his mind for weeks.
You, who's ever curious about the Prince and the the said Prince befuddled by your actions. Put it together and it creates subtle transition in your relationship.
He starts letting you engage him in conversations, as silly as they were sometimes. His answers were still brimming with condescension and ire, but somehow you couldn't shake the feeling that they somehow lacked the bite. . . the intention to hurt.
Or maybe you were just too numb to register it. Either way, you're liking the subtle changes in your relationship.
"HEY!" You gasped and bolt right up, trickle of perspiration on your temples. "W-What. . .?"
Scaramouche was beside you, his usual glare plastered on his face, but his hands are drawing circles on your back, soothing your labored breaths.
For every shift, there's the touch of his hand, the sound of his smooth voice that promises to protect you. His eyes follow you even in your shaking — the light reflected in them assuring that they won't disappear.
"Relax, reality is more often terrifying than nightmares."
Very reassuring.
Scaramouche's expression is somber as he regards you in the dark. There's a bit of hesitation before he reaches out to you. . . embracing you, like a blanket being your safe haven from the Boogeymen.
"I'm here, there's no need to fear." He whispered quietly as his grasp adjusts to be gentler against the softness of your skin as you trembled.
This is him. This is Scaramouche Hill.
This is what you were curious and hoping to see from him. No pedantical micromanagement, no cruelty born of mistrust and ill experience. Just Scaramouche, passionate, attentive and content. Kind in his own way, sardonic and inquisitive, not as selfish as everyone assumed. It was such a privilege to see it.
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 as 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 !
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They say there's a fine line between sanity and madness — Childe Agriche has a foot on both sides. And as the youngest son in the House of Black Agriches, he's the most 'normal' and 'enthusiastic' being you can meet in the manor.
You were a simple commoner who heard the rumors circulating the Black Agriches, if it taught you anything is that Agriches repay kindness with gold and insults with death. Yeah, a family you won't dare to cross with.
Apparently you don't share the same sentiment as your parents as they were too deep of their dept with the Agriche.
But they were spared and in exchange of their mercy, your parents sold you off with them to work in their house. They didn't even bat an eye and shoved you down to your knees.
You felt every kinds of betrayal that exist and snitched on your parents by exposing them of their illegal deeds and what they did to their money that put them in that situation.
Enraged, the head of the Agriche swiftly beheaded them and took you in the manor. It was a relatively quiet mansion, you thought you were going to die in the next few hours but you found yourself suddenly face to face with gleaming mischievous cerulean eyes that seems to enrapture you.
"Who you might be? A new toy for my siblings?" His jovial tone makes you think he's such a harmless creature, which was proven incorrect when he suddenly revealed of wanting you as his pet.
Did he mean slave? Surely he won't potty train you or tell you to sit and roll in front of strangers like a child(e), would he?
"Stand down, Childe. This is Y/N, a new addition of our workers." His father introduced before lighting a cigarette.
He scoffed, "We already have so many workers. Why don't they just become my pet instead?" You had to hold back the broadening of your eyes at this. What on Earth is wrong with these people?
The head of the Agriche merely shrugged as he waves a dismissive hand. "Do what you want." Your heart dropped at the nonchalant response. It'd be better if you get to work in the mansion, not be someone's slave.
An arm was suddenly draped over your shoulders. "Awesome! My name is Childe Agriche, you're now my new pet. So, let me break it down for you; you obey, reward. You disobey, punishment. Simple."
Did I mention he enjoys toying with his victims and making them his pet? Pet, as in putting a collar and chaining you up in the basement? And what was that again? He's supposed to be the most normal?
You're either stuck in a room where he claims to be your cage or following him in around the manor with the collar still on.
At first, you were scared what he might do to you, but it turns out he really honors his words. You obey him and nothing bad will ever happen to you. It really is that simple as he said.
You've heard how other Agriches tend to torture their pets for doing mistakes or even obeying as they're told. You haven't seen the display of power within the Agriches for Childe insists you stay in your cellar room, but the rumors you've heard guaranteed your every caution in meeting new people in the manor, even a maid.
With Childe, however, it doesn't automatically warrant punishment for a simple mistake. He opts to teach you what's right and wrong.
It's unbelievable how patient he is with you, it's more unbelievable to think he's an Agriche with this kind of attitude.
One day, he entered your cell and announced that you'll be living together with him in his room. The collar will have to remain for the sake of your 'safety' as he claimed. Thus, you found yourself laying on a thin satin silk mattress that left no little discomfort.
It didn't seem like he has many tasks to deal within the household, he'd occasionally be away for a few hours before returning bloody murder with crimson stains on his royal clothes.
Driven by a tinge of concern, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking. "What happened? Are you alright?" It was the first time you had seen him what the rumors would potray about him.
His eyebrows furrow in bafflement. "You're. . . asking me if I'm alright?" He asked, almost in disbelief that such question exists.
"Of course! Look at your clothes. How can you expect me not to worry?" Your courageous episode ended when you realized the mistake, you lowered your head. "I apologize. I didn't mean to come out as impudent—"
Your statement was cut short when a cold hand grasped your chin and tilt your head up. Those cerulean eyes never fails to instill the butterflies in your stomach.
"I didn't realize how cute you are until now." His voice dropped a few octaves low it sent shivers in your spine, "Nobody has ever asked about my health, and then there's you — chained up in my bed, concern for me." He chuckled, the type of chuckle that tells you he enjoys a good prey, that he likes how far you will go for him— he's testing you.
Even being concern can get you in trouble?! What's next? I'm getting punished just by breathing?!
"I don't mean no harm." Your demure voice only made him more elated.
"Oh, dear Y/N. Even if you do, there's no way you can land a hit on me," he paused, swiping his tongue out to wet his lower lip. "But fortunately, I'm a masochist myself. I might allow you to bite me if you behave~"
He really is an Agriche.
"Getting back. Are you really OK?" It took every innermost strength in you to divert the topic.
In response, he flashed you a cheeky smile before his hand slowly descended on the base of your neck. Latching his gloved fingers around until he's holding you in a chokehold.
He hasn't done anything, yet your breath hitched.
"You're so small and vulnerable, I can easily snap your neck like this." Proving his point, he added pressure which now made you choke and clasped your hands on his wrist out of reflex. "And yet, you're asking me if I'm OK?"
The pressure on your neck didn't loosen one bit, it feels like he has no intention of actually hurting you, just setting an example of what he can potentially do to you.
You barely can breath, not only because of his hold on your neck, but also the fact he's unbearably close your breaths are mingling as you exhale. You feel like fainting.
"B-Because I don't like seeing you hurt!"
His expression dropped instantaneously. An undecipherable emotion passed his countenance as his strands casted shadow over his blue eyes.
"T-Tartaglia?" Was his alter ego.
He insisted on you calling him by that name.
"Why?"
"What?"
"Why do you care?"
You ask yourself the same question, any sane person wouldn't think twice to care for a cold hearted killer, but any sinner like him wouldn't treat you with such kindness.
"Is such reason needed? I saw you stained with blood, it's natural for me to fret."
". . ."
". . ."
"Aww~" He cooed, finally loosening the hold on your neck.
What an odd reaction. You took a huge inhale and nearly slide down as your knees weakened, but he has his arm around you to keep your equilibrium in balance.
You felt his gloved hand tilting your chin up, his bright blue eyes swirled with emotions you couldn't deduce.
Everything he's doing alerts your senses to run, but your body just craves for more of his touch. Archons above! I'm losing my mind! The way he looks you like a predator — a hungry and sadistic animal, looking to ravage your soul. He's a dangerous, charismatic and highly intelligent man. A twisted fantasy.
"You know what, you'll be my significant other!"
"WHAT?!"
"And you should call me Ajax from now on, too!"
How many names does he have?!
The next thing you know was Childe's entire personality shifting. He freed you from the chains and treats you like a true royalty. Childe innate possessiveness of you increased tenfold after he was exposed to your gentle side.
Overwhelming was the right word for what you felt after a few days of his behavior.
But your "boyfriend" kept insisting in gift giving, it's his primary love language. You mentioned your favorite food? He'll have it on the dining table. You fancy a clothing? Consider the whole shop yours. Someone being an asshole to you? Expect a dried head by your doorstep.
Make no mistake in kidnapping his S/O — he'll rain down all kinds of hell. Sadly (not really) some people just don't heed warnings and accept death so readily.
The temperature in the room seemed to grow colder in cadence with the ice in Childe's gaze. "You mean to tell me, that you are all incompetent to do a simple task of guarding my room where my S/O was? And now they're gone?"
*SPLAT* *THUMP*
One head rolled over
Nobody breathed.
"For every minute you fail to bring the culprit in my playroom equates for a head. If I happen to find them before any of you — don't expect a one way to ticket to hell. I will guarantee to entertain all of you along with the perpetrators."
Childe Agriche loves to play and this was one of his games. Touche! As if he can expect those vacuous idiots to find Y/N.
The door closed with an ominous boom that echoed throughout what sounded like a massive but empty chamber.
Childe knew anger, he was well acquainted with the said red emotion but he had always try to mask it under the pretense of a funny and boisterous man. This time however, he's been uncharacteristically calm and everyone in the manor feels like walking on a tip of a knife.
They wouldn't understand, none of those imbeciles would know what it feels to be with Y/N. He scoffed as he sharpens his arrowhead before placing it in his quiver. There was no time to waste, he wants you back in his arms.
And he did.
With bloodshed, of course.
"GAHHH!"
Childe moved swiftly and gracefully, so much so they had trouble keeping up with him. He came up behind one of the culprits the one that was holding you captive, and broke his neck rather quickly before slashing at another who was nearby.
He quickly ducked, avoiding the enemy coming up from behind, and grabbed his arm, flipping him over, and pinning him down. Suddenly a loud shrill was heard as a bone cracked, and then he moved on the other.
Blood dripped from his fingers, but before a drop could even hit the floor, he’d already struck dead another one, splattering even more blood. One by one the went down, until they’d all been wiped out, annihilated by their supposed prey. They were outmatched by the youngest Agriche.
And by the glint in Childe’s cerulean eyes, he was clearly enjoying the thrill of the kill. The Agriche barely even broke a sweat, his breathing remaining even despite the number of men he had been fighting against him.
Against the occluded moon, he stalked towards your unconscious form and lifted you bridal style, Childe looked more like a predator than a lover, a hunt ending with the prey pinned and helpless. The smell of death permeated the frigid air. Only corpses lay around him.
Holding the unconscious Y/N in his arms, his expression did not once flinch. It was as if he was only holding a feather. Amidst the night, his figure glided on the ground agile and light, before finally disappearing behind the shadows of the nearby trees. . .
You woke up a little disgruntled and already felt the pain in your head flaring as soon as you forced yourself awake. So much for being Childe's S/O, it comes with a free package of his enemies hunting you down.
"Y/N, you're awake." You heard an unusually soft voice beside you as you felt the bed shifts in weight followed by a bone crushing hug from your-supposed-lover.
Pain flared in your abdomen and you had to bite back a grimace. "I swear you're not leaving my sight ever again." His breath is like the scent of night-blooming jasmine on the breeze: soft and soothing, yet sweet and enticing, effectively distracting you from the pain.
If you only you had witnessed the bloodshed you would think twice than to fall for his honeyed words.
"Y-You have blood on your clothes. . ." The indication of your query made him smirked. "It's my trophy."
You decided not to probe any further. In his language, that meant another massacre to stain his clothes and it only means whoever abducted you reached the other side as such a young age.
"Thank you for saving me. . ."
His eyes softened as he chuckled. "You're thanking the same man who shed blood for you?"
"I'm thanking the man who cares enough about me." You refuted.
You were too absorbed in hugging him back that you failed to notice the eerie smile on his lips. His next words were spoken next to your ear, laced with obvious unhinged obsession over you.
"Right, I'm the only one who would save you in face of danger and care for your well-being. No other people can do as much as I can for you, so stay with me forever, Y/N."
Was it your imagination or did you just see a psychotic grin?
𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 as 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐙𝐋𝐎 !
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How atrocious can your life get when you learned the news of your husband handpicking a concubine for himself, then the said trash woman actually has the guts to call you her in-law just because you have the same husband.
Now, you pride yourself for being patient, courageous and intelligent. You wouldn't have ruled an empire if it wasn't for your educated upbringing. But even a ruler like you can feel overwhelmed and burned out, and would find a temporary solace to cry your heart out.
The fact your husband picking his concubine is not the issue inconveniencing you the most. It was his and that man-stealer attitude is what suffocated you the most.
Outrageous to see the trash playing the victim card and shedding fat crocodile tears just to earn your husband's favor. Audacious to think of herself as the same level as you when she doesn't even know basic etiquette rules and the difference between a garbage and herself. Humiliating on how he made you a fool on many occasions and sided with his mistress while everyone whispered on how the Emperor favored his concubine over his own S/O.
And he dare say you're not allowed to have an affair?
Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
Which lead you in a secluded forest to vent out your feelings and temporarily get away from all that's happening in the palace. You're perched beside a rock while your head is tucked in your crossed arms, burying your head, silently weeping in the depths of the green environment.
*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*
You reluctantly raise your head to investigate the noise, of course you knew it was some type of bird, but you were curious what type of bird it was as you rarely get to visit nature. You'd appreciate a little company even if it's from an avian creature.
Majestic, charming, jaw dropping, and everything synonymous to the word beautiful can be attached to this mystical bird.
What caught your attention the most was its beautiful midnight blue and cerulean ombre feathers, you've never seen such bird in the books you've read let alone see one in real life. Next was its body that's bigger than your head and a wingspan that's almost in par with the length of your arms spread open. And lastly, the note tied to its leg.
"How beautiful. Will you allow me to touch you?" You didn't even notice yourself nearing the bird. A slight hesitance made you flinched when the bird nailed its bright eyes on you. Even the eyes resembled the finest jewel in your kingdom.
You retracted your hand under the assumption you had scared the bird. However, the surprise entered your face when the bird flapped its wings and perched on your suspended hand in the air. It looks like it doesn't sense you as a threat. That's a good start.
Admiring nature's blessing, you caught the note tied to its legs which made you think if this bird is a pet of some noble. "Hmm, are you lost? Based on your looks, you don't look like a wild animal that happened to stumble upon this forest by accident."
You took the note from its feet and read the content;
"I am a guest from abroad who will soon arrive at the new year's ceremony, and I write this note while drunk."
An amused chuckle left your lips as you look back at the bird who's tilting its head in curiosity of your reaction. "I'm sorry, your master sounds like an interesting person and a pain in the back. I feel bad you lost your way here. Hmm. . . should I write back?"
It wasn't even a question, you hastily fish out your pocket pen and wrote a sassy reply at the back of the piece of parchment. Hopefully it doesn't offend the owner of the bird.
You tied the note once again the rubbed its head one last time. "Off you go, little one. Deliver my message to your drunk master and fly your way back home safely."
The bird spreads its wings before taking flight.
You sighed once you lost sight of the avian creature.
Suddenly, you were harshly reminded of your duties and the circumstances you're currently in. As much as possible you don't really want to deal with another mistress-related issues within the palace and have your husband pin the blame on you. Crestfallen, you made your way back to the palace.
What you didn't know was the pair of jewel-like eyes following your movement from one of the tallest trees.
"What an interesting person." A man chuckled as he held up the note that was recently tied to his leg.
It was none other than the blue avian creature that has assumed the image of a man possessing a tanned complexion and navy-blue hair with streaks of lighter blue, accompanied by a waist-length lock of hair that's being held by a low ponytail.
As he reads the content of your message, he couldn't help but feel intrigued by what had occurred prior to you noticing his presence. Why were you crying? Crying doesn't suit a beautiful person like you, especially a sassy one at that.
"Your bird has found its way to me, if it is able to find its way back, I shall be relived, for it means it must be cleverer than its inarticulate drunk master." Sassy yet regal, indeed.
A lopsided grin adorned his lips. "So it seems I must cleverly find my way back to you if I want to see you again, Your Highness. And I must say, I love a good challenge."
Days have become grueling for you to endure, but you persevered through it all. The mistress has become more comfortable in causing ruckus in the palace just to get the Emperor's attention on her.
You don't really care about all the shenanigans she's planning to pull so long as it doesn't interfere in your line of work as a wise ruler.
Then one day, the similar bird you found in the forest came flying at your balcony and kept scratching the glass pane to get your attention.
You gasped once you realized who it was. "It's you again. How are you so good in finding me?" And it seems as though it has a new note attached to its leg.
"I'd like to think I'm a bit more intelligent than a bird. I've now woken up from my drunken stupor."
You giggled at the person's confidence. "Lumine, get me a pen and paper, will you?" You addressed to your attendant standing by the doorway.
"It seems as if you haven't woken up completely. What is the bird's name?"
Lumine, your attendant, commented at the ardor look on your face. "It's fun for you too, isn't it, Your Majesty?"
"A bit. . .?" You coyly replied, this little interaction with the bird and its master is the highlight of your day. Not even the whole mistress thing can be bothered right now.
As if challenging your thoughts, your husband walked in after you just sent away the bird with the letter of yours.
The conversation was tad too accusing, saying you're spreading rumors about the mistress to drag her down. Ha! Even if the rumors were false, it speaks volume.
You left the palace once again, to your safe haven.
It seems as though it's going to be your hobby to seclude yourself when no one's watching and let the nature be a witness of your depressive moments.
*FLAP* *FLAP* *FLAP*
Hearing the familiar flapping, you subconsciously stretched out your arm for the bird to land.
"It's you again!"
And a new note.
"Is such thing needed? You may name it, if you'd like."
"What an indifferent master." You sighed at the response and gaze at the bird. "A kind, intelligent bird like you deserves a name which befits your character. So your name shall be. . ."
"Queen."
Unbeknownst to you, the bird bristled at the name.
"Thank you for coming to see me, Queen. I'm in good spirits now, thanks to you." You embraced the bird and pecked its beak. "I hope you will come visit me again."
The bird flew toward the inky sky. Anyone wouldn't be able to tell the slight blush coating his head.
He landed a few hectares from your and transformed back to his naked human form.
"Archons above. How could they name a man, "Queen"?" He rubbed his dark blue hair. Seemingly sheepish for being mistaken as a girl.
"What was that?" A new voice spoke.
It belonged to the red bird perched on the branches.
"You said you'd go survey the premises. Did you take another detour again?" The miffed tone is impossible to miss. He flew down and morphed to a man with luscious crimson hair that cascades down to his waist and sharp tantalizing red eyes.
"No, of course not. I went to reconnoiter the Imperial Palace."
"Did you really?"
"You don't believe me, brother?"
He gave his brother a sharp glare. "You haven't given me enough reason to. But do remember your position and responsibility, especially in this foreign country."
"I get it. Don't have to nag me, Diluc."
Kaeya Laszlo, first in line to the throne of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom. The center of many rumors, such as those which describe his great cruelty or great beauty.
A few of those say he's a Casanova, and that he associates with dangerous pirates hence why he hasn't met any woman or man of his interest.
And finally, the long awaited New Year's Ceremony came. Noble figures were all invited to celebrate the occasion with your Kingdom as the host.
As for your husband, he's quite busy mingling with his mistress and you were left with your friends.
"Dear god. How shameless is the Emperor to have the face in showing off his. . . unpalatable mistress."
"There is no need for your ire. The law states that the Emperor can take more than one spouse." A tight smile graced your lips.
One of your friends scoffed. "Even it that were the case, a man with a noble heart wouldn't take one more to fulfill his insecurities. You are more than enough and the Emperor does not deserve you."
"Greetings, Your Majesty." An elegant man gracefully interrupted your conversation with your friends.
You turn to look at the man clad in a white-blue knight uniform, specifically more stylish than what you usually on a regular knight at your Kingdom. A Prince, you concluded.
As you shift your apprehensive eyes on him, the little details such accessories and intonation caught your undivided attention.
Silver rings on those long, dexterous fingers, silver necklace around the neck that held his head way too high, silver tongue in that mouth home to all kinds of sins. He was the epitome of being devious; so much so that he could literally walk right off anything by just talking his way out of it.
"I am Kaeya Laszlo, first Prince of the Khaenri'ah Kingdom."
Everyone around you gasped and some almost fainted while you remained level-headed.
"Greetings, Prince Kaeya. I have welcomed you earlier today, but it never crossed my mind to engage a talk to such an esteemed guest of ours."
It's more like I never expected someone like you to approach me. You thought sardonically.
"Do I come off as cold to you, Your Highness? Pardon but that is not my intention, but surely you'll allow me to make worth of your time." He chuckled wistfully, a smirk has overtaken his lips.
Great God. If he endeavoured to make you fall for him as much as possible, then he was doing a splendid job. You just couldn't shake off the feeling that you know this man.
Burst of giggles erupted around you while your eyebrow perched. "Cold? You don't strike me as such, if anything, your bold statement has proven me otherwise."
"Oh, and what would be your answer?"
"I—"
"Of course they agree! Please don't mind us and enjoy your evening together, Prince Kaeya!" One glare against dozens of mischievous eyes is like fighting tooth with nail.
"Shall we?" He offered his hand to guide you in his predestined destination. "I sure hope it is worthwhile, Prince Kaeya." You took his hand and my god was his hand the iceberg.
"Call me Kaeya for starters and I shall call you Y/N."
First name basis already?
"Is that a demand?"
"Does it sound like a demand?"
"It certainly does."
"Well, it is up to you to decide whether to oblige or not." He smiled.
God, it's unfair to have the blessings of charm.
"Where are we going?"
The young man beckoned his head to the exit. "Somewhere your husband won't suspect a thing."
"You really do sound like a Casanova."
"Oh dear, don't tell me you believe those hearsay."
You shrugged. "I do not, but you've been anything as what the rumors have described you thus far."
"You made me curious of you."
"How so?"
Arriving at the garden, he glances at the full moon before turning to stare right at you. "Your eyes are beautiful, yet they also look so empty oftentimes. Your movements and the way you speak are very refined and regal, but they can turn cold, or even rude at times. You're a paradox I'd love to solve, Y/N." Kaeya paused, "But I feel like you're a paradox I could never solve, no matter how hard I try."
This stare off could go on forever, if Kaeya had his way. The tension is obvious, but the air between you both is too tempting — too addicting to resist.
He doesn't look away. . . not one bit and neither do you. His eyes are fixed on yours, his breath steady and his pulse strong. A part of him wants you to make a move. . . to show that you feel as strongly for him as he feels for you.
The other part just wants to steal you away and make you his.
Spoiler alert: he did.
𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 as 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 !
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It's old news for aristocratic children get engaged before they could debut. But in your case, you're not merely marrying a boy of your family's choice.
You're marrying the infamous Monstrous Crown Prince Bennett; the child who was rumored to have been cursed to bring misfortune to those around him. Thus, he has lived his entire life in the confinements of his four walls.
Fretful thoughts flooded your mind as your carriage neared his mansion. Imperial children usually stays at the Imperial Palace with the King and Queen, however in Prince Bennett's case, he was segregated to live in another mansion built specifically for him to stay out of the spotlight — or as others should say it, for him to not spread the curse of bad luck.
You don't usually treat people based on senseless rumors, but you do heed the rumors as a guide for you to be cautious. Prince Bennett is by far the most unknown factor you have to deal with despite the rumors surrounding him. What is he like? Is he a snob? Does he really bring bad luck?
Those thoughts have kept you all night that you didn't have time to sleep. Somewhere along the way, you fell in a deep slumber, ignoring the occasional jerk of the carriage as it hits a bump on the road.
Constant whimpering reminding you of a kicked puppy was what woke you up from your blissful beauty rest.
For a moment, you have forgotten what happened before you fell asleep. Through your blurried vision, you noticed the walls and ceiling looking dull with the simple light shades of painting, the bed you're resting felt foreign to the touch, the minimalist approach from the interior design and lack of other furnitures made you think you're in someone's room.
"G-Gah! Yo-You're awake. . ." A meek voice said from beside you, it's easy to mistaken it as a woman's voice if it wasn't for the boyish undertone.
You blinked several times before adjusting your sight. There's a hooded boy at the very far right of your bedside, and from the looks of it, he seemed terrified to even close an inch gap.
"Who are you?" Was million dollar question. The boy visibly bristled. It's quite clear for you that he's not used to social interaction.
"I-I. . . am Bennett." He spoke with a low, soothing tone that was laced with a soft accent. Despite his voice being smooth and even, he stared back at you with unbidden curiosity, one that seemed to peer into your very soul.
"Bennett?! Oh Lord, I greet His Majesty the Crown Prince!" You promptly bowed your head as low as it can get.
"W-Wait, no, please don't do that! I don't deserve your respect and besides, we're equals now, feel free to call me Bennett if you like."
He doesn't deserve respect? What a load of bullcrap does that mean? A frown has settled deeply in the creases of your forehead. This boy is anything but what the rumors have described him.
"Your Hig— Bennett, you could be an outcast or a peasant and I'd still treat you with respect. Don't say you don't deserve decent manners." You're almost fuming at this point.
"But I'm a monster. I don't deserve anything, even you."
Something in the purity of his statement triggered you.
"I bring bad luck to everyone. I could hurt you in the future and I don't want that, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."
You could feel the last of your residual resentment fading away, getting replaced by a deep sense of compassion — as well as a healthy dose of curiosity. What would this boy, your future husband, truly be like?
"You're no monster, Bennett. No monster would be concerned for my well-being and selflessly label themselves as such to ward me off." He seemed to perk up at your claim.
"Don't ever call yourself as such. I can't stand it."
"I don't understand, you're the first one to say that to me."
A frown has settled on your brows as you came to stand next to him. "You don't need to for now, I'll show you."
Bennett was none of those rumors. You have concluded that ever since you met him, he has been kind and considerate to your well-being. You have never met someone who would ask which side of the table they're more comfortable to eat with — not until Bennett.
The boy was overwhelming with perfervid compassion and the strong urge to give love, it can feel suffocating at times but that's what made you like him.
There's just this nagging feeling in your gut that he's forced to act like a doting husband due to the fact you're engaged. Is it all an obligation? Or he's simply this passionate?
"Are you not upset at this?" You had asked one night.
"Upset about what?"
"About our arranged marriage."
Bennett may appear jubilant around you but you can't help to think he harbors ill will to this arrangement. "I see no reason why I would." He replied, smiling at you as per usual.
"Why is that?"
He tear his gaze from you before briefly interlocking your hands. So warm and full of passion, you promptly responded to the gesture by drawing circles with your thumb.
"You're the best thing to happen in my life. I can't explain this feeling but I do know I can't be happy without you. Thank you for coming in my life, Y/N."
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━━ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃. bennett's way too short cuz I ran out of ideas T-T this took wayyyyyy tooooo long, but I'm glad it turned out well. what do you think of this au? I'm planning on making a part 2 for other genshin men, I'm actually starting it already but I still need to finish other prompts.
━━ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @atsukawolfcat @spyanya @ittosoneandoniwife @a-rose-byanothername @lasignoramybeloved @vvyeislazzy @kokomisimpppp @gookimswife
©OTAKUWORKS_2024
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skepticalkoi-catastrophe · 5 months ago
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𝙏𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙖 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙑𝙤𝙞𝙙
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Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader
Genre: Angst/Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends to Lovers, Exes to Best Friends, Hinted Exes to Lovers
Warnings: Mentions of physical harm to y/n (bruises).
Word count: 577
PART 2 HERE
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 「11:37pm」 - 30 days or more was the minimum. That was the agreement made to ensure there were no hard feelings. Once the distance grew, you knew there was no going back. But you never really forget how someone makes you feel.
He had driven to your location to pick you up from an event being held by major Guild Masters. Wrong number. Right time, you figured as you could've swore it was a cab service you called and not his personal phone number.
Mentally cursing yourself as you stood beside him in the rising elevator, that bottle of gwasilju nears its end in your system.
"I already told you I called you by accident." You insist as he walks you to his familiar apartment front door.
Jinwoo's lips go flat while unlocking it, leading you inside. "Accident or not, I wasn't going to leave you there alone. You called, I came."
It was obvious he was worried about you. He managed to bring a jacket to wrap around you and some slides for your feet as he predicted they'd hurt by the end of the night. Habits like these were hard to break.
Much like him getting you a glass of water, fresh washcloths and towels, and one of his shirts to sleep in.
"Jinwoo, I'm serious. You don't need to do all this. I'm fine." You glance up to the ceiling. "It's not their fault I wondered off."
"Regardless, you're here now, so just ease up a bit."
He's always been so stubborn when it came down to you. You nod, stumbling somewhat to the bathroom, him not far behind you. Gently, he took your hand, sitting you down on the rim of the bath tub, massaging cleansing oil onto your face.
Jinwoo knew better, but he couldn't shake you. Your presence reminds him of a simpler time.
He continued your nightly routine, him leading you to his bedroom where your clothes were. "If you want, I'll sleep on the couch."
"It's okay, Jin, I just...this is hard on us both."
Right. Just months ago, you and him did this same song and dance. It wasn't fair how both your duties as hunters found precedence over what was once shared. He's snapped out of his thoughts as you began changing, not bothering to tell him to look away.
"It doesn't have to continue like this - what is that?" His question plummeted swiftly like a guillotine's blade.
You didn't budge, pulling his shirt over your head. "It's nothing. You know I'm careless."
"I won't ask again. Who did that to you?" He approaches you from behind, fingertips barley making contact as you wince. Purplish blue watercolor lined your ribs, tender to the touch, causing you to flinch.
"Let's just say it was a physical disagreement between guild members." You let out a harsh breath. "If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy."
"That's not funny y/n....you've probably had this for weeks, and you weren't going to tell me?"
"And tell you what, Jinwoo? The last thing on my mind was to go crying to you about my problems. You're not my boyfriend anymore." You choke back a lump in your throat upon exit of your sentence. His shirt now draped over your body. "No contact. That was the deal."
"Fuck the deal!" A line appears between Jinwoo's brows. "I never stopped caring."
That was it. The linchpin.
"...What?"
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Please comment, like, and reblog if you enjoyed it
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aihaloos · 5 months ago
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Tempted to write a replaced au twst fic where Yuu (or alternatively, I'll use my Yuu, Riyuu, who is basically who I'm writing this for) used to be the cutest girl around, the cheery one who's always around everyone, the one you can't seem to dislike even if your crush falls for her because she earnestly says sorry (even though it's not her fault) and will always help you out if you need her back in her old school. But one day, a new girl comes around and her whole reputation got destroyed. She helps the new girl adjust, tells her all the rumours and introduces her to all the popular kids. But the girl ends up backstabbing her, telling the popular girls rumours about how she intentionally plays up the act to steal their crushes to her, and lies to the boys, telling them she's just playing with their hearts and that she's a horrible person.
Yuu ends up alone and excluded, being seen as "annoying" and only having a few close friends who doesn't really interact with her in public in fear of their reputation being ruined. She ends up miserable at school, and wishes to not go anymore. But one day comes a saving grace, she gets whisked by a mysterious black carriage into Twisted Wonderland, or more specifically, Night Raven College. She doesn't mind working if it meant she doesn't have to deal with her old school, there was still 1 and a half years left of school and she doesn't want to deal with all ghe group projects to be assigned that will inevitably end with everyone not wanting to team up with her. Plus, as annoying Grim is, he's like the animal friend all of the anime and storybook protagonists she knows has, and she doesn't mind him too much.
Some things did change after she and Grim got officially enrolled, but she had no problem adapting to the social expectations of the world, part time jobs with Sam -- and occasionally the canteen -- paid enough to get her tools for cooking basic but delicious food, and new friends without the weight of her past helped her get settled comfortably.
The existence of Overblots stunned her for a bit, but a peek into Riddle and Leona's memories helped her understand the concept, even if just a little. However, things began to change eerily simlarly to her old school when a new girl comes, also in a similar position to her, getting transported to a new, unfamilliar world, and seemingly hailing from a similar world to the Earth she knows. She warmly welcomes her, eager to finally befriend another girl, but it seems that the girl does not share the same enthusiasm.
The girl only barely responds to Yuu's attempts at forming a friendship, and always seems to talk her in a condescending way, and often dismisses her, and especially so whenever there are any boys around.
Yuu will not deny any statements claiming she's an attention seeker or that she plays up her sweet innocent girl act, but she knows to never, ever sacrifice a bystander for it. But if someone insists on war with her... well that's another, different story. She's learnt her lesson of being overly optimistic, and she will not make the same mistake twice. She will not let her make her life a living hell more than it already is with Crowley's irresponsibleness.
Aaand thus begins the story. Or well, however you wanna continue it. I'm honestly in favour of most Housewardens (Kalim, Vil, and Idia in particular. I'll put my reasoning in a few paragraphs down) Adeuce, Tweels, and Ortho for team Yuu. Why?
Well, first of all, Adeuce. This is mostly because the duo is like. with Yuu since Day 1, as much of a bitch as Ace is, I think those two are the most likely to trust and know Yuu well enough to not believe the lies R (< Replacer) tells. Especially Deuce, he doesn't want to betray a friend he knew for quite a while, that would not be very honor student-like of him!! And she helped him out in a lot of situations too! He doesn't want to hurt you after all the trouble you go through to help him, and also knowing how horrible your living conditions are. Ace would most likely give in to peer pressure if the student body is overwhelmingly in favour of R, but as of now, he maybe enjoys your company just a bit more than R. Just a bit, promise.
Tweels I feel like is self-explanatory. Those two are perceptive as fuck istg it scares me. Jade especially. I feel like the two would just toy with R for a bit despite her facade and lies before dropping her after she bothers them for attention and favours one too many times.
(Ortho ties in with Idia so I'll explain him in Idia's paragraph)
Kalim is actually very emotionally intelligent. He can come off annoying and stupid, but from all the scenes I see of him, he's actually really good at dealing with people. Have you seen how he deals with the Scarabia residents after Jamil's OB??? The way he phrases his sentences?? He didn't force or even plead with them to forgive Jamil, he simply asks them to wait before making permanent judgements, and I think he's gonna be uncomfy with how condescendingly R talks to Yuu, and even if he's used to people going after him for money, I feel like R mostly eyeing him for money and how she "secretly" sighs in annoyance everytime she goes out of the party for a "bathroom break" will only solidify his dislike/discomfort, even if he doesn't show it.
Vil is also kind of self-explanatory if you read into his character and not just the shell the official English localization makes for him. (I could rant for hours about how the official tl portrays his character istg. He's hardworking and he actually didn't attempt to poison Neige out of pure jealousy, he did it because he felt like all his efforts to be beautiful will never be able to surpass Neige, who, in his eyes, always seemed to be innocent and naturally beautiful. He feels like the villain in Neige's story. He feels like he is reduced to what he often plays as, a snobbish, overconfident villain obsessed with overthrowing the hero. And because of it, it became a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing him to, in a fit of despair, be that same villain everyone sees him as.) I really don't think he will take well to R's condescension to Yuu, who genuinely wants to befriend R. (I actually have a whole thing in my head where Yuu and Vil occasionally have sleepovers where they do skincare together after the whole VDC thing happened. I feel like this is also a "vent sesh" of sorts for the both of them, just to air out their grievances without much seriousness, and I think Yuu would admit to wanting a fellow girl in the school that she could befriend, since no matter what, being the only girl can be exhausting.) Ik Vil's not a girl but he is such a girls' girl istg.
Idia... this mostly ties into Ortho and The STYX Incident, but like,, I think we can all agree on this one,, Idia is smart and capital V Very pessimistic. Would you rather trust the girl you've known for a while, who saw your memories, who helped you in awkward social situations when she can and is besties with your brother or some random new girl who trash talks said girl behind her back? The former, right? Plus, even if Yuu did only hang out with him and his brother because she likes to secretly laugh at him behind his back, there's mo guarantee R wouldn't do the same, given his experience. And he would rather have someone who actively helps him and his brother out than someone who wouldn't.
I didn't put Malleus in because of how canon him actually treats Yuu. I feel like the fandom kind of put on rose-tinted glasses on with his character, and kind of ignored some things like, idk... him just leaving them to fend for themselves homeless during Octavinelle... maybe he thought Crowley would offer them a place to stay but like... I'm still bothered by how didn't atleast offer a spare room in Diasomnia. He's a housewarden goddamnit. He's not as distant or scary as the rumours say but like. still rubbed me the wrong way.
Anyways I don't think my attention span will let me write it to completion so if anyone likes this and wants to write it feel free. Pls tag me if you do tho. I would love to read it :3
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missy4176 · 3 months ago
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A Last Goodbye
Cale Henituse x Reader
The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of your labored breathing. The once vibrant light in your eyes had dimmed, and your skin was pale as the moonlight that seeped through the window. The end was near—you both knew it. Yet, the man by your side, the infamous slacker of the Henituse family, remained as stoic as ever.
Cale Henituse sat by your bedside, his usual indifference masking the storm raging within him. He’d always been good at hiding his emotions, mastering the art of detachment to protect himself and those he cared about. But now, as he looked at you, that carefully constructed facade was crumbling.
The man who had faced monstrous enemies, and the burden of a destiny he never wanted, now found himself powerless in the face of your impending death. He had always been the one to remain calm, calculating the best course of action with a cold, clear head. But now, his heart was heavy, weighed down by the words he had never been able to say.
“Cale…” Your voice was barely a whisper, weak and fragile. Even now, you were more concerned about him than yourself. It was just like you—selfless to the very end.
He didn’t respond immediately, just tightened his grip on your hand. He felt the frailty of your bones beneath his fingers, the warmth slipping away from your body. Cale had always hated being vulnerable, but now, he was terrified. He was about to lose the one person who saw through his indifferent mask, who loved him despite—or perhaps because of—his flaws.
“Why are you still here?” His voice was rough, almost accusing, as if trying to provoke a response that would bring back the spark in your eyes. “You should have let me go long ago. You should’ve left, but you stayed, damn it.”
You offered him a weak smile, your lips trembling. “Because I wanted to be with you… even if it was just for a little while longer.”
Cale closed his eyes, feeling the weight of guilt and regret bearing down on him. For once in his life, he couldn’t run away, couldn’t hide behind his usual apathy. He had always kept you at arm’s length, believing it was safer that way—for both of you. But now, as he watched the life slowly drain from your body, he realized just how wrong he had been.
“I was afraid,” he finally admitted, his voice cracking. He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. “I thought… if I kept my distance, you wouldn’t get hurt. I didn’t want you to suffer because of me.”
Your eyes softened with understanding. You had always known. You had seen through his cold exterior from the very beginning, recognizing the warmth he tried so hard to bury. Even now, in your final moments, you could see the love in his eyes, even if he couldn’t say the words.
“Cale,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You don’t have to say it. I’ve always known.”
His chest tightened, and he cursed himself for his cowardice. He had faced death countless times, stared it in the face without flinching. But now, he was paralyzed with fear—not for himself, but for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, not like this, not when he hadn’t even had the courage to tell you how he felt.
“Please… don’t leave me,” he choked out, his voice breaking. He wasn’t supposed to be the one begging, but here he was, clutching your hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. “I’m sorry… for everything. I should have told you… I—”
You squeezed his hand weakly, offering him one last smile. “I know, Cale. I’ve always known. It’s okay.”
Tears he hadn’t even realized were there began to fall, staining his cheeks. Cale Henituse, the man who had always kept his emotions locked away, who had never shown weakness, was now breaking apart in front of you. And it was too late. The words he had always kept buried deep within him, the feelings he had never dared to express, were now pouring out—but they came too late.
You took a shuddering breath, your eyes fluttering closed. The last thing you saw was Cale’s face, twisted with sorrow and regret. And despite the pain, despite everything, you were at peace. You had always known how he felt, even if he hadn’t been able to say it. You had loved him, and that was enough.
“Goodbye, Cale…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.
And then, you were gone.
Cale sat there, still holding your hand, even as the warmth faded away. The silence was deafening, the weight of his unspoken words crushing him. He had always prided himself on his ability to outsmart his enemies, to come out on top no matter the odds. But now, for the first time, he realized he had lost the one battle that truly mattered.
He had lost you.
And with you, he had lost the chance to tell you that he loved you.
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myeagleexpert · 7 months ago
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Hana's Demons of Lust
Today they are like this:
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But in the beginning they were like this:
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Just wanting to use her to get revenge From giving up revenge to trying to live a normal and cute romance Giving up the cute and normal romance to use his demon powers to make her stay by his side forever
(I got distracted quickly, I'm going back to Twst)
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thexmistress · 25 days ago
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CAN SOMEONE PLEASE WRITE FANFICS ON ‘TEARS ON A WITHERED FLOWER’ PLEASE IM BEGGGGINNNGGGGGG (」°ロ°)」(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
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deathlywounded · 1 year ago
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"Only ever feeling fine And I'd prefer us to be close I'd like to look you in the eyes Not fearing staring into the void, waiting for replies Just waiting for replies I've been trying to read your mind By stripping all the poems I've been watching dandelions Grow and die and grow And it's a shame Because I only came here for the love of you Yeah, it's a shame Because I only came here for the love of you ... Are you over there feeling fine? Oh, I'd prefer it if we spoke I'd like to look you in the eyes Not three AM staring into the void, waiting for replies Just waiting for replies" "Dandelions", by Daughter _____ do NOT report anywhere. instagram art account: deathlywounded
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vivilingriphyn · 9 months ago
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A lil ANNOUNCEMENT about my AU The Sham. I will be making my next post about The Sham | Lost Memories, which means SUIT JAY and this timeline of my AU, will be fully colored, unlike Origins as you can see on the illustration above ^^
Update: Link to the finished comic page
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locomoqo · 1 month ago
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Hii! Its my first time I request, can you write about Yamazaki shingen or Yamazaki shintaro?
Like being their sister or being the only daughter among shingen children
Im sorry I know its weird🙂
a pearl
ft. Shingen and Shintaro Yamazaki
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details: platonic/familial angst
A/N: nooo it's not weird at all, it's different from what i usually get but i say yes to trying new things!! :DD and yes the title is a mitski song🤗🤗
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You were born not long after Shingen and Shintaro—the Yamazaki clan’s pearl, a symbol of how blessed the Yamazaki seemed to be. They had the brains, the brawn, and now the beauty. While you were a respected figure, your place in the hierarchy would always be beneath your brothers. Shingen and Shintaro, despite their differences, were both protective of you, especially in your younger years, indulging your whims and shielding you from the harsher realities of clan life.
But as you all grew older, things changed. Shingen, once vibrant, grew more distant after his defeat. His carefree behavior in your childhood turned into apathy, slowly becoming a shadow of his former self. It pained you to see him reduced to such a state, and though you visited him often, there was little of the brother you once knew left in his eyes. Now, you’re not sure if he even truly listens when you speak to him, though he never turns you away.
Shintaro, on the other hand, was always the brother who meticulously followed tradition, always thinking five steps ahead, but now those qualities made him rigid, almost cold. His devotion to the clan's survival came at a cost—your relationship grew strained, more businesslike than familial. He still trusted you, perhaps more than anyone, to handle delicate matters and share the responsibilities that should have been Shingen’s. But it’s a trust built on necessity, not affection.
Your relationship now is a far cry from the closeness of your youth. Shintaro often speaks of plans, of duty, rarely of anything personal. His words to you are measured, calculating. You catch glimpses of the brother he used to be, but the weight of his role has buried that warmth under layers of duty. Shingen, meanwhile, remains quiet, lost in his own world. His presence is more like a shadow than a brother’s.
You try to keep the peace, to hold the family together, but there are times when you feel as though you’re standing alone between two distant forces—one rigid and unyielding, the other fading away.
You often visit Shingen out of a sense of duty, speaking to him about anything, hoping to stir some response. And Shintaro… you respect him, admire his intelligence and resolve, but there’s a distance there, a coldness that wasn’t there before. You know he trusts you, but it feels more like he sees you as an extension of the clan rather than his sister.
One disconnected from the world, the other consumed by it. And you? The one stuck between the two.
You were the one who carried the silent knowledge of what the Yamazaki clan had become, caught in the shadows of two brothers you loved dearly, yet couldn't fully reach.
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themissinghand · 7 months ago
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Hiiii.Welcome home and back!.How was your day?.I hope it was good.I miss you.Can I make a request about Han Yoojin x femreader?!.(This guy needs attention like Kim Dokja and Cale Henituse!!).The reader is very loyal and loves Han Yoojin.The reader and him were lovers in the first life before the reader died from the high rank dungeon.So they met again after he 'collected' the S rank hunters.Angst to Fluffy.Hehehe.I need something to cry then happy.
Thank you for listening. Take care of yourself.
The S-Classes that I Raised Heartstrings [1]
Part 2!
Summary: In which you don't remember Han Yoojin in this life, but he remembers everything. 
Or, as Yoojin watches you from afar, he vows to make you fall in love with him all over again.
Pairing: Han Yoojin x F! Reader
Note: I'm doing good! Hope you're having a wonderful day too!
It is my job as a manhwa reader to complete the holy trinity. Also, is it just me or like it's a desert for this fandom for x reader stories??
Warnings: Angst and fluff served on a silver platter just for you anon!  ★・・・・・・★
“Y/N!” 
Han Yoojin pulled you in a hug, relief washing over him for a brief moment until he was pushed away harshly.
“Who are you?!” 
“Woof! Woof!” Your dog, a Maltese, growls at him fiercely, trying to protect his owner. 
Seeing your shocked and cold expression, one that screamed “touch me and I will call the police”, Han Yoojin struggled to come up with words. 
You don’t remember. 
“Stop Bong!” You called out, trying your best to calm your dog by slowly stepping back away. Once Bong was a little more tame, you looked at Han Yoojin with a suspicious look. 
“I don’t know you.” 
With a bitter smile, Yoojin swallows, before bowing and apologizing. 
“Sorry, wrong person. The person I am looking for has the same name and looks similar to you.” Your hostile expression fades away to one of understanding and even empathy.
“Oh, that’s okay. My name is pretty common in Korea.” You smile awkwardly before dusting off your shirt. 
“You seem very desperate to find this person, so I hope you find her soon.”
With a weak smile, Yoojin nods and waves goodbye. Watching you leave and hop onto a bus. His eyes follow you until you completely leave his sight. 
“Hyung! There you are. What are you doing?” 
“Just…meeting a friend.” 
That’s right. You don’t remember. 
Han Yoojin met you in his lowest times. 
When his younger brother rose to the top of fame as a S-rank, he was left behind. 
He was ridiculed by the world and abandoned by the brother whom he tried so hard to raise. 
In the midst of trying so hard to understand and gain recognition, he met you, who was an D-class hunter that specialized in healing. 
You, who reached out to heal his wounds and scars, and the first to see him without the branding of a failed older brother of a S-class hunter. 
You, who helped him stand on his two feet again after each failure of a dungeon. 
You, who stayed with him through his depression, and frustration. 
You, who showered him with reassurance, kindness, patience and love, whereas he was too naive, envious, and took advantage of you for emotional support.
You, who taught him his worth-
And him, who couldn’t protect you. 
“I’m sorry, (L/N) (Y/N) has died in the B-Rank dungeon.” 
Your death has killed him too. 
He remembered going back after your funeral to your shared apartment. He didn’t know how he made it back, he felt like he was simply drifting along without any meaning in life. 
“Woof!” Startled, Han Yoojin looked down to see the white Maltese looking up at him with cute puppy eyes.
“Woof!” Bong patted his shoe, before running around, patting the door, as if telling Yoojin something. 
Then, Bong sniffed your shoes. 
Han Yoojin remembered breaking down then, crying, begging, and praying to God like a pathetic idiot he was. 
In his next life, he will protect you.
He hugged Bong close, who seemed irritated and confused. 
Bong didn’t understand. 
For everyday he waited by the door, waiting for you.
Everyday that passed without you, Han Yoojin was dying.
He slowly went back to his old self, and society began to overwhelm him. 
Until the day he too caused his younger brother to die, and he got the opportunity to fix everything from the beginning.
Han Yoojin wanted to see you so badly. 
From the moment he woke up in the past, you and Yoohyun were the first he wanted to see. 
But, he remembered how he was so weak and useless, and did not want to repeat that life again. 
So he built up strength, collecting S-classes as he goes and making sure that he will never be a burden to Yoohyun or anyone he loves. 
So that when he met you again, you didn’t have to take on the burden to take care of him. 
This time, Han Yoojin swore that he will protect you. 
Even if you don’t remember who he is, and even if no one else acknowledges you, he will. 
Just like you have done with him.
“Bong!” 
“Hyung!” 
“Wait Yoohyun!” Yoojin stops his younger brother from making a mess, and watches a familiar Maltese stop in front of him with puppy eyes. He sniffs his shoes and then circles him excitedly. 
“Woof!” 
Does Bong remember?
“Bong, you can’t just run away like that!” You catch up finally, panting a little bit before meeting Yoojin’s eyes. 
For a moment, time seems to stop as if giving Yoojin time to make a decision. 
But luckily, he didn’t need to once he saw your potential showing above your head.
“Ah, you’re the man from before! So sorry about that. It seems like Bong remembered you.” You were embarrassed as you picked up Bong in your arms. 
“It’s okay, I like dogs.” 
“Yea, I don’t know why Bong is acting like this. Usually, he isn’t that friendly with strangers…”
 “What’s your name?” Yoojin asked, and you sheepishly answered. 
“(L/N) (Y/N), and you are?” 
“Han Yoojin, and this is my brother Han Yoohyun.” You gasp, a look of realization flashed on your face, before bowing profusely. 
“I’m so sorry, I promised we won’t bother you again-”
“It’s okay, actually, are you a hunter by chance?” You stood confused, but nodded. 
“I am…but I am only a D-class healer-” 
“That’s perfect, we were looking for one, and you look like you have potential. Right Yoohyun?” Yoojin quickly elbowed his younger brother, hoping that he would get the cue, and Yoohyun smartly responded with a nod. 
“Are you sure? I don’t think my skills are that valuable.” Surprised and embarrassed, you fidgetted a bit and stroked Bong’s head. 
“Don’t worry, I see potential when I see one.” With a hand extended for a hand shake, he smiled gently, just like how you reached out to him. 
“I believe you can be better than you are now.”
This time, his skills can help you become someone more than a D-class hunter, but a S-class Saintess. 
Because that’s who you are.
It was hard to get you to trust him. 
It was even harder, managing the suspicious looks from Yoohyun and his S-class children, and ensuring you are safe from his potential enemies.
But it was all worth it, when you learn, grow and gain confidence in your skills. 
With how close the two of you have gotten, both of you celebrated in a restaurant with beer after seeing a breakthrough in your healing skills. 
“(Y/N), I love you.” 
Yoojin said out of nowhere, and while he said it to activate his skill, it was also with a genuine heart. 
“(Y/N), I love you.” He felt emotional, finally saying the words he buried deep in his heart that he wasn’t able to say easily back then. 
You, who was tipsy and giddy, could only grin stupidly and joke at his comment. 
“Haha! I love you too, Han Yoojin.” 
Even though you probably will not remember tonight, or your time together with Yoojin in your past life, Yoojin is happy with this. 
“Aww, boss, why are you crying?” 
“Shut up and drink.” 
“Yes sir!” 
Seeing you laugh as you down each drink, he matches your energy with gratitude. 
This time, he will be patient, he will be your emotional support and shield. 
This time, he won’t be foolish, he won’t be a burden. 
This time, he will treat you better, and cherish you with everything he’s got.
So if, by the off chance that you will remember the past, the two of you can still live a happy life together. 
“Yoojin~ Did you find that person *hic* by the way? My twin?” 
It became a running joke, one that embarrassed Yoojin, but also made him feel happy. 
“I did.” 
“I hope I can meet her soon!” 
“Me too.” 
When you finally knocked yourself out, he laid on the table facing your sleeping face and smiled. 
“(Y/N), I love you.” 
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quqiwo2 · 14 days ago
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I can't stop imagining if Cruel was still alive and the two Hardt brothers could finally communicate with each other and clear up the misunderstanding.
And it is the reader who unites them. Because that is also part of the reader's mission. When, Deon's two personalities merge and he thinks there is only happiness ahead of him. Because he has his older brother who supports him and his lover who is always by his side (You). But...
In your mind ... 'how? How do I tell him?' You are a person who came from another world and was given a guide by the world to complete the mission of defeating the demon king so that you can return to your original world. You can't return to your original world before the demon king is defeated.
If in the future the next hero is Deon Hardt, you hope that Deon Hardt will not be the next hero and let someone else be the next hero. Of course, the world only grants your wish, once. You are happy.
But the main problem is... How do you tell him? You will leave this world after the demon king is killed. You feel so guilty because he has already fallen and trusted you. He has fallen so, so low in you. He never believed that you would leave him.
So, can you explain?
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