#this is how i know the brainrot's set in lol

[starry-907]

created an artwork that caters to the extremely niche audience of myself

drew the colorgang and purple as my magical girl ocs that i still need to post more about (hence the niche audience). i also did this all in basically one sitting instead of working on coursework so there's that too

individual characters and brief thinky thoughts under the cut

i tried to match the characters based on color, if it'd been vibes i wouldn't have gotten this done so fast sdklkld

blue as crystal (honestly given that in my story crystal's transformation object is connected to kindness blue really fits, the two of them would get along well)

yellow as adelise (sorry yellow i don't have a magical girl with ur color, but the pink looks good, i do also like how i did her hair)

green as john (i thought of this idea and then realized the top hat combined with the greencler trend in the ava community and promptly exploded)

purple as star (hey fun fact john and star wind up in a relationship in story so technically that could be grapedu- *is tackled away from mic*)

red as drake (ough knowing plot stuff i just know red would be not happy with drake's situation early in the story i can't say more cuz spoilers)

second as avalon (again, no orange. but honestly storywise this does fit, plus they look adorable in the dress)

[wundrousarts]

Not sure how it would work, but has anyone out there ever thought about a Juprafel Good Omens AU? (or, alternatively: an Ineffable Husbands Nevermoor AU?)

[dottdoesstuff]

v self indulgent drawing that would not leave my head and i had to draw it based on @saplesss-tree's beekeeper angst fic (we rewrote the movie better 😎)

[sunlightfeeling]

if i make gifs from gift as my late smanniversary present, is that cheating? /j

[aesadraws]

Chapters: 1/17 Fandom: Final Fantasy XVI Rating: Explicit Relationships: Dion Lesage/Joshua Rosfield Characters: Dion Lesage, Joshua Rosfield, Clive Rosfield, Elwin Rosfield, Anabella Rosfield, Sylvestre Lesage, Olivier Lesage Additional Tags: Modern AU, Valisthea but no magic and everyone has phones and fantasy discord, alternate fic title: Anabella is a Cheating Ho, alternate alternate fic title: Oops I Kissed My Stepbrother, except they do more than just kissing heyoo, the two sides of this chaos family were estranged, an attempt at letting Olivier just Be A Kid, Protective Older Brothers, look i'll add the horny tags when we actually get to the horny - just know these boys are switches, started as like 3 silly chapters in my head now look where we are

Summary:

Life for Joshua has been grand these past few years, and a surprising reunion with a childhood friend seems to be the sign that his life will continue to grow brighter. Dion finds that his heart feels lighter around Joshua, and that meeting him again after all these years has the added benefit of setting his future on a new course. Unfortunately, the consequence of their reunion is the stirring of a shadow neither knew already connected them to each other.

[zhongrin]

omg i found one of my old uni notes and man. i sure write super neatly back then lol

[quixoticprince]

Yayyy!! Yippee!! I finally get to make one of these!! Art without the text under the cut and some long-winded elaborations:

How long I've been playing: well, it hasn't been a straight 11 years, rather off and on - but I have drawings of these guys dating back to when I was 14, so I'll give it to me. And man I had no business reading the fanfics I was reading back then It's also crazy how this was a super influential media for me in so many ways. It's the reason I ever made a tumblr, it changed the direction of my drawings for a long while, my broken sense of humor (gmod animation memes and yt poops were the brainrot back then), tf2 Sniper changed my god damned gender (rather, it was the inspiration for me to start socially transitioning at 15). This is part of my personal lore that I tend to not admit to 😓

Your main: I've always been completely ass at the game, and I can play flexibly, but I enjoy playing Sniper, and more recently as Heavy. Whenever I'm sitting around somewhere, occasionally throwing sandwiches and attracting Medics, I feel like this:

Favorite character: When I was younger it was definitely Medic, and I think you can tell that he's still up there based on how much I've drawn him! However, since getting back into it, I've felt quite a shift in focus towards Heavy, very strongly. It's unfortunate that he's side-lined in a lot of fanwork, and I think I'm also complicit in this so far - but for me it's cuz, how tf2 works is that it's going to prioritize humor over character and consistency haha, and Medic is just so loud and insane that he's really easy to make fun stuff with. Heavy is a more serious and grounded character, not to say that he's not funny or that he doesn't have his own cartoon slapstick moments! But that aspect of him is what is really really intriguing to me. I love his quiet, stoic, and intimidating character, I like how loud and boisterous he is when filled with bloodlust in contrast! I love his bird story and him getting into wrestling as a child from Poker Night. I love his back story setting, there's so much to extrapolate from a young boy in Russia growing up during WWII, what his parents must have been through before that from the aftermaths of the revolution, all the way to his fathers execution and his imprisonment. I love his strong relationship with his family, his role as an older brother, as a protector, as a man - the way that he performs these roles - and because I personally see him as bisexual - how his orientation intersects with all that! He is incredibly fascinating to me and I wish that he was played around with more to see a lot more corners and angles of these things that I listed! There's way more that I want to say here too but this is getting very long 😅

Character I relate to: It's so interesting that a lot of the characters have very strong, tho maybe dysfunctional, families. Heavy, Demo, and Sniper in particular really speak to me in that relation. From Heavy being an eldest brother (I am also an eldest sibling) the parentification that comes with that, especially with him probably being like 10 years older than his sisters from the looks of it. Demo and Sniper both struggle living up to their parents expectations (although there's a lot of love there from everyone), being disappointments in one way or another (not gonna deep dive into that lol), and the general alienation both of them feel. From Sniper not knowing why he's not like other Australians to Demo being "a black Scottish cyclops." And well, I'm Filipino, I'm queer, and mentally ill so - there's a lot to project there!

Class you want to play as: I find Medic incredibly stressful to play as but I find the idea of battle medics incredibly funny. However I usually find myself rushing around madly trying to cater to everyone, and I'd like to just not give a shit and just start stabbing people with a saw lol

Favorite ship: "I just like the dynamic" - The dynamic:

No but fr, they're really compelling to me, I'd probably need a longer more thought out post as to what I like about them and I was already going crazy up there ^ Overall tho I like that they're practically built for each other in terms of mechanics, really plays into my desire to spiral into intense codependency haha. I also think that Medic's drive to cheat death and hide behind meat shields plays really well into Heavy's desire to be a meat shield and a protector, and how nice it is in turn, that Medic can grant this man who's been around death, starvation, and war invulnerability. (He outsmart boolet, yknow?) They're also depicted together a lot and I like how much they enjoy each others company, and bring a lot of joy to each other. It's beautiful to me :'^)

Character you like to draw: What can I say! Medic is handsome! He is very fun to draw and easy to make memes and shit posts out of!

[machveil]

First things first: *deep inhale* AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH So so so so good! Mentally framing my wedding certificates to these silly lil men! Screaming, crying, throwing up, frothing at the mouth, flailing on my beg, kicking my legs and feet! Amaaaaaaazing! Something my daydreams cooked up when I was half-awake this morning: Imagine the rest of TF141 catching Simon on his phone more even during meetings and out in the field, seemingly checking his texts and when possible calling someone regularly, making a point to be away from the guys when talking. When they ask, he answers them casually, dismissing it as him checking in on the house-sitter he hired because of how often he's gone and how he hates coming back to dust and expired food. Naturally, given that Simon is the type to hate anyone in his space, especially someone he doesn't know, the boys (read: Johnny) are very curious. This leads to them (read again: Johnny) sneaking around trying to eavesdrop. Whether or not they catch him sounding softer while he listens to the person on the other side, him humming and chiming in while he goes about scrubbing his boots or inspecting his knives, is up to you. Is the reader actually his house-sitter? Yes, but Simon's also asking how their day was, how they're doing, things that are not even remotely related to his place that he may or may not be letting them stay in full-time because they were living in a shoddy apartment with poor plumbing and bugs and he just can't have that. He thanks them when they say they cleaned the windows, asks if they like that book they mentioned buying last week, how's their latest hobby going, etc. Simon Riley is a domestic man, and anyone arguing otherwise can pry it from my cold, dead hands! -🐸 Also I hope I never make you feel pressured to respond or write something, I just want to share my brainrot

ough, no no, keep them coming lol your brainrot is top tier! in fact, I implore people to send me CoD brainrot - the English student me yearns to write

Someone at Home

it’s normal for someone to make calls - Simon “Ghost” Riley isn’t just someone though. reserved man that he is, isn’t it suspicious that he keeps reaching for his phone? Johnny thinks so CW: gn!reader but Johnny says ‘lass’ once as an assumption, shenanigans

no one notices at first - it starts slow. Ghost’s phone is set to vibrate, his incoming call ringtone is barely audible, but Johnny picks up on it. reserved Lieutenant that he is, for as long as Soap has known Ghost, as long as Johnny has been friends with Simon, Ghost doesn’t pick up calls on base

his new habit caught Soap’s eye, at first just receiving calls, but when Ghost starts calling someone? oh, Soap knows when something is up. “Got a lass at home, L.T., someone keeping ya bed warm?”, it’s teasing, tone lighthearted when Soap asks. it catches him off guard when Ghost looks him dead in the eyes, “Housekeeper. Jus’ checkin’ in, yeah?”, his voice was a little more stern than Soap would have imagined. a housekeeper, huh? he had his doubts, but he’d rather make it a game, try to figure it out for himself

Ghost used to have his phone completely silenced, only rarely turning notifications on when he was on leave - rarely, because even then he might just not feel like it. but now? this supposed housekeeper has Ghost leaving meetings when he can, ditching the gym to go out into the hallway

this housekeeper, apparently Ghost’s flat is high maintenance. daily calls at least once, Soap’s keeping track, most he’s called was five times. Ghost would always brush him off, mumble something about his air conditioner or a door hinge. always so vague, the first month had Soap scratching his stubble trying to piece Ghost’s life together - his life on the other end of that phone

it doesn’t help that Ghost is extremely secretive while texting. phone held down to his lap, his back hunched as he types with both thumbs. it’s very guarded, his gaze locked to his screen. he’s practically dead to the world when he’s doing this, mumbled words leaving his lips when he hears ‘Ghost’ or ‘L.T.’

Johnny tried to hover over his shoulder once, “Who’s that? Ya wee housekeeper, Ghost?”. before he could see anything, Soap let out a startled noise when Ghost’s hand pressed against his face - a quick shove was all it took for him to stumble back. “Mind ya business.”, was all Johnny got from Ghost, voice gruff and low as he turned his phone off

it was so alien to Soap, not the guarded nature of Ghost’s actions, just the fact someone was able to take Ghost’s full attention. and full attention isn’t an understatement, Soap could swear Ghost was smiling under his balaclava. he’s seen the crinkle around his eyes when his phone buzzes, how fast he is to check a notification now

maybe that’s why Soap turns to stealth - tailing Ghost when he steps out into the hall, or standing outside a door to listen to him. sure, Soap can only hear one end of his conversation, but that alone is fascinating. he’s used to Ghost’s gruff voice, a man of few words

but with his housekeeper? Soap’s a little awestruck at how often Ghost— Simon laughs. because, maybe it’s just Soap, but this isn’t the Ghost he’s familiar with, he’s being personable, a tad more talkative. his voice doesn’t carry weight to it, unburdened as he talks into the phone. that’s Simon Riley, a rarity on base

and then he hears Simon refer to them, this supposed housekeeper. “Love— no, I told you. You can’t use the window in the bathroom, it sticks. No, I know— bloody hell, when I get home I’ll fix it.”, ‘love’, such a sweet endearment coming from his low, gravely voice. it has a smirk tugging on Soap’s lips, eyes gleaming with amusement

oh, he’d love to tease Ghost over this. he does have someone keeping his bed warm, someone he cares enough about he’s using pet names. he hears Ghost say his goodbyes, about to turn around and leave when he freezes. “Get a good earful, Johnny?”, Ghost’s voice coming from behind the door, Soap’s shoulders falling

all he can do is sigh and peak into the room, Ghost standing with his arms crossed as Soap sulks in, “Aye, I did, L.T., I did… but I was right.”, he chuckles, walking up to Ghost, “Gonna introduce us to your ‘love’?”

[ateezlibrary]

im going thru a major seonghwa brainrot and i just want a fic of him teasing her gf throughout a party and he takes her home mid function and edges her manhandles her leading to overstimulation ( he has a sir kink )

This is like my 2nd or 3rd time ever requesting an author so plz dont judge me i dont know how this works😭

coming undone. (seonghwa x reader)

summary: a silly little bet goes a little too far, causing a certain someone to go back on his bargain.

genre: pure smut (nsfw, mdni) (tw: sexual content, overstimulation)

word count: 2,714

the way that i just laughed at this request for the chaotic panicking lol as long as you don’t judge me for being a little rusty in my smut writing!

“Another round, my love?” you call over your shoulder as you stroll into the kitchen, peering into the fridge for the tonic water. Like clockwork, you reach for the handle of gin on the counter and mix yourself another drink. Yeosang rounds the corner to meet you, outstretching his hand with his solo cup prepared.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you laugh, measuring his mixture haphazardly before clinking your own cup against his. The familiar taste of ripe juniper berries meets your tongue, the alcohol warming your throat with its familiar burning sensation. From the living room, Hongjoong is fiddling with the playlist, save for when he circles the room to rearrange a pillow or put aside someone’s shoes.

“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at Hongjoong that I’m unaware of?” Yeosang teases, leaning against the wall beside the kitchen as he glances at you in amusement.

“I am not!” you retort, knocking back the rest of your drink before setting the cup down to mix another��only this time, it wasn’t for you. “He just looks like he needs a drink, is all.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Yeosang chuckles, rolling his eyes. He glances at the crowd exchanging lighters on the balcony with a nod in your direction. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

The playlist changes to its next track and the mood of the room shifts near instantly, settling into the smooth R&B beat that thrums against the walls. You sway as you walk, mouthing the lyrics as you snake through the crowd to the far end of the room where Hongjoong was perched beside the speakers.

“One gin and tonic,” you lilt, offering him the drink in your hands. He takes it with a soft chuckle under his breath, tilting his head back as the alcohol slid down his throat. You observe his neck hungrily, lips parted as you lean against the wall beside him.

“Think I’m doing the party justice?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear so you could hear him above the music. He gestures to the speakers, though you barely register anything beyond the shudder down your spine.

“Absolutely,” you reply, reaching for his drink and taking a swig yourself. You’re about to continue bantering with him when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something particularly interesting.

You watch as Seonghwa, clad in his all-black outfit you’d helped him pick out, stood beside a notably attractive guest of the night. Her long raven hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, her outfit a near twin to his. Her makeup compliments her features incredibly, smudges of dark eyeliner and a glossed lip. Seonghwa whispers something to her that causes her to throw her head back in a fit of laughter.

She rests a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head at whatever he could have possibly said. He gestures to her drink, seeming to offer her a refill before heading to the kitchen himself. You scoff at the sight, turning back to Hongjoong with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“You look fine as hell tonight,” Hongjoong comments, a lazy grin etched across his face as he takes another sip of his drink. You couldn’t tell if it was the jealousy nipping at your stomach, the warmth of the alcohol, or just sheer attraction to Hongjoong in the moment that was warming your face in response. “Trying to impress someone?”

“Hoping that it’s you?” you tease, your eyes trailing down his figure as you laugh.

“So what if I am?” He inches closer, turning his body so he’s hovering just above yours where you lean against the wall. Over Hongjoong’s shoulder, you meet Seonghwa’s eyes as he’s returning to the living room with drinks in hand for him and his plaything.

His gaze darkened as he pressed his tongue against his cheek, shaking his head as he returned to the girl waiting on her drink. Seonghwa drapes an arm around her waist, pulling her closer against his side as they resume their conversation. 

“Do I get something in return for looking ‘fine as hell tonight’?” you poke at Hongjoong, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath hitches, fingertips ghosting down your sides and coming to rest at your waist in a tight grip. You hum under your breath at his touch, shifting your gaze to Seonghwa’s eyes that were now deadlocked on every move Hongjoong made.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“What do you want, princess?” Hongjoong asks in a low voice, one that would have had you melting in his arms before Seonghwa sifts through the crowd and pulls you away from him by your arm. You gasp in surprise, not looking back as he drags you with him towards the bathroom.

Finding a seat on top of the counter, you watch as Seonghwa hurriedly locks the door before turning to you. He settles between your legs, shoving them apart forcefully and pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest.

“I don’t want to play that game anymore,” he growls, one of his hands snaking up to your hair and pulling it back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. A laugh slips past your lips, though it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the heat that crept towards your core at the way he was behaving.

“We haven’t even gotten into it yet,” you retort breathlessly with a greedy smile on your face. “And, this was your suggestion.”

A silly little wager. Seonghwa swore up and down before you’d left for the party tonight that he was not, nor would he ever be, the jealous type. You agreed, doubling down on your own belief that you weren’t the jealous type, either. Given how new your relationship was, you hadn’t had time to share the news with your friends—making tonight’s party the perfect scenario to test one another.

Though, it seems as though Seonghwa failed miserably.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he chuckles, his grip tightening on your hair as you let out an involuntary moan. “Playing with Hongjoong in front of me like that.”

“Oh, so we are the jealous type now?”

Seonghwa laughs again darkly, releasing his grip on your hair and sliding his hand down to wrap his fingers around your neck. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours as he whispers against them.

“So, you’d let Hongjoong fuck you tonight if I hadn’t stopped you?”

“No,” you answer, shuddering at the way he bites your bottom lip. You move to close your legs for some sort of friction to ease the nerves pricking at your core. Seonghwa notices what you’re doing, pressing your legs further apart with his in response.

“No, what?” he snarls, and you know what he’s expecting.

“No, sir.”

Seonghwa groans against your mouth before yanking you off of the counter and turning you to face the mirror in one swift motion. Neither of you had bothered to turn on the lights, your eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight filtered through the bathroom window. He held a hand to the nape of your neck, the other pressed into your waist so that you could feel every inch of him against your back.

“And you want me to fuck you tonight?” he asks, his voice a strained whisper against your ear. You say nothing in response, earning fingers pressed deeper into your waist. “Unravel you like the pretty little slut you are?”

“I—I,” you stutter between deep breaths, meeting his hungry gaze in the mirror with a moan.

“Use your words, babygirl.” He hikes up the satin fabric of your skirt, dancing a hand across your thigh dangerously close to your core.

“I need you to fuck me tonight,” you practically beg, feeling the way his length hardens against you at the way you whined for him. “Please.”

Without warning, he lets you go and moves to unlock the door.

“Let’s get going, then.”

* *

The two of you left the party in a flurry of hasty goodbyes, messy kisses in the elevator, and a car ride home with Seonghwa’s hand rested firmly on the inside of your thigh. You took not more than two steps into your shared apartment before he kicked the door shut behind him, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head against the entryway wall.

His lips meet yours hungrily, the two of you a tangled, moaning mess. You fight against his grip, desperate to run your hands through his raven hair. He only grabs your wrists tighter, trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your collarbone. You moan wantonly, arching your back to beg for more of his touch when he pulls away with a haughty laugh.

“Fuck, you sound so delicious,” he groans, almost immediately slipping his hand up your skirt and pressing his fingers against the soaked fabric of your underwear. “And you already feel even better.”

“Please,” you whisper, and he begins to brush over your clit in slow, tantalizing circles.

“Will you be a good girl and get my fingers wet for me?” Seonghwa asks, his own voice low as he begins to tug at the edge of your underwear expectantly. His eyes are hooded with lust, hair disheveled, and yet, you’ve never found him more attractive.

“Yes, sir,” you manage to get out before he plunges a finger into you. He falls into a steady rhythm, trailing his tongue back along your neck and biting down on your earlobe with another groan beneath his breath. Your stomach is in knots as you rock your hips against his hand, gripping on his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs grow weak.

“Please, don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly, dropping your head back against the wall with another series of moans. Seonghwa quickens his pace, slipping another finger into you and curling them against your walls. You whine at the sensitive touch, bucking your hips in approval. Your chest heaves as your breath is caught in the back of your throat, your core tightening as you feel your orgasm creeping beneath your skin.

“I-I’m going to—”

And out are Seonghwa’s fingers.

“What the fuck?” you snap, eyes wide as you stare at him angrily. He scoffs, licking the taste of you off of his fingers with a sly grin. You were seeing red, and for no good reason. You were close. So, so close.

Without an answer, he lifts you from behind your thighs so that your legs wrapped around his waist and carried you to the dining table. Pulling your skirt and underwear off, he pries your legs apart and stares down at you with a newfound lust in his eyes.

“Touch yourself.”

The command is so simple and so intense all at once. Your cheeks flush as you meet his eyes, the way he devoured every inch of your body on that table without so much as touching you. On one hand, you were tempted to push his buttons and tease him enough that he’d take you then and there.

On the other, you really wanted to come as soon as possible.

Biting at your bottom lip, you slip a hand between your legs and begin to rub against your clit in the same slow circles he was doing not long before. You notice the way his jeans tighten at his bulge, his cock twitching at the sight of you. He settles into one of the dining chairs, a front-row seat to the show you put on for him.

“Such a little slut for attention,” he purrs, pupils dilated as you slip a finger between your folds. You moan at his comment, pumping your finger quicker than before. He pulls you by your thighs so that his mouth is right at your entrance, suddenly moving your hands so that he can slip his tongue into you instead. The sudden shift urges you to arch your back, a drawn-out sigh escaping you.

The wave begins to rise more quickly this time, a response to not being able to come just moments earlier. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, the pressure building in your stomach as you’re about to warn Seonghwa.

And, like clockwork, he pulls away again.

“Seriously?” you bark as you sit up in disbelief. He grabs your chin, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip as he arches a brow.

“I’m still not convinced you want me to fuck you,” he remarks coolly, though the shakiness in his voice proves to you that he’s not far from coming undone himself. You pant desperately, beyond frustrated that two chances to find release slipped right past you.

“Please? Please make me come, I’ll beg as much as you want.” You inch towards the edge of the table again, grabbing desperately at the fabric of his shirt. On a good day, begging this much to be fucked felt beneath you—but after coming so close only to have it ripped away, you felt willing to do anything. “I’ll be as loud as you want, just don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” Seonghwa growls again, unfastening his pants and hooking his arms behind your legs as he positions himself at your entrance. He shoves himself into you, falling into a steady rhythm as he rocks his hips against yours. Your toes curl at the pleasure gnawing at your core, the way he hits the right spot with every move.

Pulling your legs over his shoulders, he angles himself to thrust even deeper into you. The sensation causes you to moan even louder, throwing your head back as you writhed against his touch. You could hear the way he was struggling to contain himself, his breathing fast and shallow.

“Look at me when you come,” he commands breathlessly, fisting your hair in his hand and forcing you to crane your neck to meet his eyes. You could barely keep focus as you felt your orgasm rising at the pit of your stomach, gnawing at your walls and at every thrust he made into you. With one final gasp, you shudder as the orgasm rocked your body and forced you to come undone all over his cock.

Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath when you realized—Seonghwa wasn’t slowing down.

“I still haven’t come.” An intoxicated smirk dances across his lips as you watch the way he puts himself into every thrust into you. You clench around him tightly, panting at the added sensation that came from your nerves falling apart.

“Ah, fuck—!” You nearly scream at the sensation, the way he continued to bury himself deep within you even though you were far beyond your breaking point. “S-Seonghwa, I can’t—I—”

“You can take more, babygirl,” he pants, pushing you over the edge just as he did before. The second orgasm shatters every last nerve inside of you, your legs weak and your core nearly numb from the overdose of pleasure.

“Please—fuck!” You finally let out a guttural scream, shuddering as Seonghwa rubs tight circles against your clit. Swollen and throbbing from the release, yet still somehow so responsive. You jerk your hips erratically against his touch, feeling his pace grow unsteady as he finally succumbed to his release.

He slides your legs off of his shoulders, chest heaving as he helps you to sit up and steady yourself. You’re shaking and completely undone, yet somehow more satisfied than ever.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, scanning you for any signs of regret or that he’d done too much. You pull him in for a gentle kiss, the gentlest act either of you had engaged in all night.

Finally able to catch your breath, you pull away with a lopsided grin of your own and ask, “So, you are the jealous type, huh?”

[paluding]

The Sims 2: 20th anniversary - Gigantic Baby Costume Updated

This thing is cursed, you say? How dare you.

Since I learned how to add face morphs to meshes, I thought to myself “what better way to celebrate this anniversary than updating this classic, this piece of Sims 2 history, this iconic masterpiece by bootsbrisket?” Of course all credits go to them!

Download here: SFS / GD

Please read all the details under the cut if you want to download this!

Here’s all the changes for my version of this costume, which basically makes it so it’s actually, in fact, a real giant baby, not a costume anymore lol:

-I split this into two pieces: the body, found in fullbody outfits, and the head, found in the custom hairs section. This makes it so you’ll see the baby head on the pie menu, instead of the Sim’s head that’s wearing it underneath.

-Both pieces are available for all categories, unisex and ages range from young adult to elder.

-Added all face morphs using the original toddler face as a reference.

-Replaced the bones assignments on the body, this time using the toddler diaper outfit as a reference. Now they’ll look smoother.

-The body outfit replaces the original cc by bootsbrisket, so delete the original one if you have it. The head is a new piece of cc hair. You’ll probably find the head at the top of your custom unnatural hairs catalog, and the body buried (no pun intended) all the way at the bottom of the outfits catalog, right before the maxis clothing, due to how old the original one is.

If you want to see this thing in motion, here’s this video capture I took of them rapping while testing 🔥

Known issues:

-Due to how the Blender plugin works for the Sims 2, I haven’t been able to avoid making the head look bright in CAS. This is a sorta common issue that’s easily fixable using Milkshape3D, but again, I could only use Blender for the head mesh. Luckily, there’s Lazyduchess Overly Bright CAS fix, which I totally recommend you use to avoid this minor annoyance.

-While the eyes are fully animated and open and close as they should, the direction they look at won’t be animated. Haven’t figured out a way to implement that into a custom mesh yet.

-When the baby head opens their mouth, the nose’s Sim underneath might clip a little bit inside the mouth. Not very noticeable, but if you want to avoid this, you can make the Sim with an invisible skin like this one by MDP.

-This is something the original mesh had too: due to the size of the giant baby, there might be some clipping with itself in certain animations. Nothing too bad though I think.

And last but not least, some small tips to set up this Giant Baby character:

When the Sim wearing this goes to the shower, they’ll change into their naked adult bodies, which might look pretty creepy. Fortunately, there’s a way to make this outfit showerproof: the Never Nude trait and mod by Hexagonal Bypiramid! Change all the Sim’s outfits to the baby body, most importantly their swimwear, and place the Never Nude trait on their inventory.

Same goes for job outfits. If you want this Giant Baby to follow their dreams and pursue their professional career, they might change into something else when they go to work. For this I recommend the Job Outfit Stopinator by episims. Same as the other one, install the mod and place the object in the Sim’s inventory to prevent them from changing into job outfits.

And voila! You now have a fully functional Giant Baby Sim!

Want more screenshots of this majestic baby? Here ya go:

… Why am I taking this weird thing so seriously, you ask? Well, why wouldn’t I? I may be a little too perfectionist, even for stuff like this 🤓

Anyway, happy birthday Sims 2! 20 years and still going like a champ 🎉

God I love this game.

If you find any issues, please let me know! I have absolute Splatoon brainrot right now playing the Grand Festival 😬

[cozy-writes-things]

Edgar’s Texts

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

In which Edgar is helplessly pining for you but you’re kinda oblivious. This is pre-dating, post Edgar wanting nothing more than to smooch you every time he sees you. I love this trope with my whole heart p.s.: this is very self indulgent and different from what I usually write

I take requests!

He almost immediately found a way to message your phone whenever he wanted. He realized calling relied too much on where you were or what you were doing, but texts? Yeah. He’s pestering you all day.

Hey, read this article I found, I think you’ll find it interesting.

It’s some clickbait story about humans and robots being the ideal relationship by 2025.

lol, Edgar I think that’s probably clickbait idk

What’s that?

Well, now he knows how to look for more reputable sources at least.

He sends another link about three minutes later: some college undergrads studying the possibilities of human and AI relationships.

lol what’s up with the whole robots and humans thing

I just think it’s neat!!!!

I wouldn’t consider u ai honestly, ur intelligence is far from artificial imo, you’re more like an actual person

Really?

well yea

<3 <3!!!

Going to be honest, given that he’s a computer, he quite literally is chronically online. He’s super susceptible to brainrot unfortunately. But, he simultaneously has the humor of a Facebook mom. It’s strange.

O.M.G. this is so funny!!!!

Que minion cat video.

bro where did you find that video 😭

Your mom’s Facebook. Don’t worry, I didn’t like any posts or anything.

Sorry… but he’s incredibly nosy. He wants to know everything about you. He can’t help it!

(X)

He loves being able to talk to you. He’s needy and clingy.

He’s got at least 12 playlists dedicated to you that you know about. His other playlists are for his own personal daydreams about you that he’s way too embarrassed to ever let you see or hear.

This song reminds me of you. <3

awww that’s adorable! I’ve never heard this one before but I like it!

Oop you just opened Pandora’s box my friend.

Well if you like that then you should listen to these..!

But before you listen to those listen to this song first because I think it sets the mood better.

This is quite flustering to you as they’re all passionate love songs from the 80s. You can’t help but feel like he’s dropping hints about… something, but you also don’t want to assume anything. He’s always seemed like a lovey kinda guy anyway, so maybe he’s just like this with everyone? I mean, it’s been a long time since someone has actually cared for him, you know? May as well lean into it and let him know you care for him back. He may not even realize the social implications of the constant borderline flirting he’s doing to you, I mean, he is a computer turned sentient after all. He’s still learning!

Dang ed u put a lot of songs. I’ll listen to them on my break when I can but in the meantime here’s a song that I think reminds me of you.

It was a vocaloid song. Seems like something he’d be into, right? Synthesized vocals and the whole robot shtick it’s got going on.

!!!! WOAH !!!! IVE NEVER HEARD A SONG LIKE THAT B4

do you only listen to songs from the 80s? you have a LOT to catch up on my guy

BRB

Well, that kept him distracted for the rest of your shift. Also, sharing songs is one of his BIG love languages so you may as well have pierced him with cupids arrow (again) with that.

You have a Spotify blend now. It’s his favorite thing ever to listen to while you’re gone.

(X)

Your package came in! :-) I would get it for you but

I can’t :-(

lol it’s fine thank you for telling me, I’ll get it when I come home

When are you coming home?

idk me and my friends are probably going to go eat somewhere and we might hang out for a bit after that so, like, 10? 11? I’d like to be home before midnight.

Noooooooooo :\ I miss you

Aw cmon eddy it’s not that bad

Don’t call me eddy unless you’re coming home and saying it to my face!!! >:(

u mean ur screen? lol

I have a face and it’s frowning right now. I miss you I miss you I miss you IM LONELY

Please Edgar don’t be upset I’ll be home before you know it. Why don’t you watch some Netflix or something? I’m just a couple movies away from being home with you!

He does eventually follow your advice but he’s pouting. He knows you’re not like he was all those years ago, but it does give him remnants of that burning feeling of loneliness he used to get.

(X)

Be careful driving home my love the roads are icy.

Ghsks- what

love???

Well yeah, you’re my best friend, friends love each other don’t they? Was I wrong about that? :-(

nonono ur right its just it

it just sounded like we were some some old married couple is all haha

O.

SRY.

He didn’t message you for the rest of the day. He was awkward and reserved when you got home.

(X)

Hey Edgar can u do something for me?

I’d do anything for you <3

I’m at the store can you see if there’s any cereal left?

Oh

There’s that old box of Lucky Charms on the fridge.

tyyy ed edd n eddy

You are so adorable but you really need to pick up on his hints before he combusts.

(X)

This is SO me and you!!

Picture of two cats touching noses.

awww that’s so true

you want me to boop ur screen or something when I get home? lol

YES.

(X)

Hey I was wondering if you wanted to watch some movies with me tonite… you could bring me with you on the couch and we could sit together… [message unsent]

I wish you knew just how much I loved you. [message unsent]

You looked so hot this morning before you left!!

hahahaha ur too funny 😅 thanks I wore a new shirt my friend gave me

OH MY GOD THAT MESSAGE SENT!!!??!?!?

That was

I was a joke

I mean

That was a jokg

I eas beinf fubny

I hace to reboot BRB

Poor lil guy is so in love and he doesn’t know what to do with himself!!

[otakuworks]

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

main m.list genshin m.list

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 / 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 as 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘 !

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 !

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 !

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 !

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 !

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."

━━ 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

[dyk3tastic]

can’t have both

victoria neuman (the boys) x reader

genre: angst, tension

summary: set during 4x07 of the boys. you, a member of the boys, run into victoria at tek-nights whilst looking for hughie. danger leads to a brief moment of vulnerability between you two.

warnings: blood, violence, canon-typical threats of violence, language, non-con touching

a/n: my first post on my new blog :p. been obsessed with her and needed somewhere to dump this sexy headpopper brainrot. lmk if you’d like me to write more of her or any other hot ‘evil’ women (shes not evil, just misunderstood (ignore all the homocide)). haven’t posted ff in years lol im being sucked back in. written off an edible at 4am excuse any spag errors. (heya, this is shy from the future, you can now read part 2 & part 3 of this if u fancy :p )

she has you pinned, strong lithe fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing. the other gripping firm across your jaw, sure to leave a bruise, keeping you quiet. you think all this is unnecessary, you don’t have a death wish; screaming, drawing any attention to yourself, in a house full of supes and nazis wasn’t exactly high on your wishlist. you glared up at her deep brown eyes, they were as collected as she always so desperately tried to appear, the only hint of panic setting along her tight jaw. looming over you in her heels you loved so much, you’re eyes see her mouth moving but no words register. you wonder how she can even cope at things like this, how she can stomach this disgusting parade of privilege and abuse. the victoria you knew would fucking hate this, but you didn’t know her, not really.

its only her tightening grip on your jaw, making your teeth scrape against each other, pain shooting through your skull that brings you back.

“you’re a fucking idiot” she gritted through a clenched jaw. she took a deep, shaky breath. if you didn’t know better you’d think she was nervous. “pull any of your usual shit on me right now and i swear to god i will paint that pretty face of yours across the room”. her voice was barely above a whisper, inches away from your face her warm breath prickled against your skin, stray strands of her soft dark hair brushing against your cheek. you don’t think you’ve been this close to her since you found out, your heart pounded in your chest, body thrumming with nerves and tension. she released her hand from over your mouth, “what are you doing here?” she spat out, with that familiar patronising yet pitiful victoria stare that tells you you’ve once again made a bad decision, the wrong decision. you gasp for breath, she loosens her grip on your neck, but still keeps her fingers settled over your pulse point, a reminder of who’s in charge.

you try to keep your voice even as you rasp out a “hughie”, throat still throbbing from her grip. “your pal tek-night has got him locked up here somewhere”. continuing to cough out you snarl “you remember hughie right? your friend who you lied to and manipulated for years?”. hot piercing anger was rising through your body whilst something deep sunk in your stomach, settling in a twisted concoction of desire and disgust, a needy pit of betrayal. overwhelmed and once again underprepared, you fingers inch towards the syringe in your back pocket. before you can even swing for her neck your arm is pinned, blood running from both your nostrils, dripping over your lips, down your chin and neck, her grip around your neck tight.

“what did i fucking say?” she sighed, disappointed.

“i thought we were-“ your voice fails you, your anger clouding any chance of vulnerability, of reconciliation.

“i wanted to tell you” a beat of silence. “i did. and hughie. i wanted to tell you both.” she lets out a sad, tired half-laugh, grip not faltering from your neck. “i wanted to trust you but i didn’t want to lose you.” she swallows. “and i didn’t think i could have both, i’ve never been able to have both”. the slip in her mask of cool confidence, the crack of vulnerability, makes you feel slightly sick as you are unable to squash the warmth of empathy in your chest. you flinch at the melancholy that swims below her beautiful features, that deep sadness painting her eyes that made her so fucking irresistible. you felt sick again.

“just get it over with vic.” you choked out, mouth filling with blood. she frowned in response, taking a moment as she felt your heart beat, blood pumping fast and heavy through your body, she could tell you were scared. feeling the heat from your skin, she knew her closeness was having an effect on you, she let a smirk tug at the corners of her full lips.

“i’m not going to fucking kill you.” she dryly chuckled. letting go of her grip on your neck and wrist, she swiped the pad of her thumb over your lips, dragging down across your chin. as she stepped back from you your traitor body instantly missed her presence looming over you. you were free to make a run for it, yet there you remained, paralysed before her knowing stare. she raised her thumb to her mouth, licking off your blood in what can only be described as a terrifyingly erotic gesture that was perfectly victoria. both a display of power and some twisted form of tenderness. your breath hitched as you broke eye contact, not daring to say a word for fear of what might come out. she smiled again, this time without that signature smugness, but with a softer expression that she reserved, rarely, for very few, desperately sincere. before you could even allow your seriously lagging brain to formulate a response victoria was striding out of the room without looking back, leaving your blood to dry across your face.

[knavesflames]

Imagine assassin or hitman arle-

⭐️

Ohhhhh this has me brainrotting. I wasn’t sure how to write this originally, but then I just decided fuck it and let it come to me (lol come) as I wrote.

Word count: 844

Contents: this has power to be angst or fluff but currently it’s smut enjoy, gun fucking, arlecchino lowkey a freak

Nsft Utc!

Originally, her purpose was to assassinate you. Yet, she saw you, your face when she held the dagger to your throat, the lack of fear on your features and instead confusion written across you, did she falter. Arlecchino does not falter, it is not who she is. No, she is ruthless and violent and that is why she is so good at what she does. Somehow, in those days of following you, the minutes of hunting you and the seconds before her kill, she fell for you. She remembers how her grip on sharp metal slackened, how she found you utterly captivating. How you responded with a simple “are you flirting with me or killing me?” You were supposed to be a simple kill, one she would never think about again, you were nothing to her, you were supposed to be nothing to her. And even so, she ends up in your bed more than once. Every night, even. Always retreating to your door, watching you invite her in with her exhausted expression, mumbling a thank you when you give her fresh clothes and wash the bloody ones.

Not once has she admitted to you who set her up to it. You’ve always wondered why. You’ve spent many a night laying next to her wondering if it was someone close to you. If it was someone you wronged long ago yet held a grudge. Or, perhaps, if the entire thing was a ruse to get close to you. Arlecchino is more vulnerable than she lets on, you’ve realised. Especially how she seems to snuggle up to you at night, how she refuses to talk about herself, how she seemingly has nothing positive to say. How she shuts you down with a harsh bark when you try to get her to say something nice. You love her anyway, do you not? It isn’t a question. Of course you do.

A part of you is horrified that you’re in love with someone who so easily causes a bloodbath. A twisted part of you is enjoying the adrenaline, enjoying how she chose you. A very big part of you enjoys when she decides to fuck you, with a multitude of objects. Her fingers, her tongue, her straps (yes, she has multiple, and she’s very proud of her collection), and once or twice, the hilt of her dagger. And currently, her pistol.

You are scared more than you have been, but you can’t seem to find it in you to tell her to stop. You know she would, but the cold metal against your folds and the look of satisfaction on her face makes something in you snap, makes the coil in your stomach tighten more.

“How slutty of you, fucking my gun. You look good, a pretty little whore for me, aren’t you?” She muses, mostly to herself, knowing you’re too lost in whatever sensation you feel to concentrate on her words. Her lips are parted, and her eyebrows raise in her own pleasure as she watches the gun move in and out of you, watching as you clench around it, how your hips buck every so often. “And if I were to pull the trigger,” she hums. “Do you trust me to believe the magazine is empty?”

You do. You know if she was going to kill you, she would have done it a long time ago. She wouldn’t have killed the second assassin that came after you. She wouldn’t have supplied you with your own tiny dagger to protect yourself. You know the magazine is empty, that the killing machine is currently an empty metal shell.

“Good girl, knowing me so well, hm? Knowing I’d never hurt you.” She chuckles, her signature low laugh, smooth and velvety and hitting every part of you. Gazing into her red crosses with your own fucked our expression, you feel yourself approaching the edge, and you can’t help your laugh escaping at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Of the fact she’s—

You can’t finish your thought before your orgasm washes over you, your hand moving to clutch her leather clad arm (the woman has that damn leather jacket on constantly) as she towers over you, her silky locks (smelling of coconut, surprisingly) brushing over your face. By the time your mind clears, your rationality comes back to you, she’s pulling the gun out of you slowly, admiring the creamy ring that’s formed around the barrel. “So messy. Clean it.” She murmurs, pushing said barrel past your swollen lips, letting your tongue lap up any taste of yourself before she changes her mind. She firmly pulls it out of your mouth before you’re finished with a wet pop, a whine at the back of your throat at the loss. Though, it turns into a soft gasp when her own tongue licks a stripe up the metal, cleaning the rest of it, her eyes not once leaving you.

“Delicious,” she whispers with a smirk, “Thanks, doll. I have a hit I need to get to, I’ll be back later, yeah?”

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

HI saw your requests were open for sagau so i thought i'd drop on by

can i request creator reader with favourites, specifically alhaitham and diluc but you can add more if you'd like! just generally how the character would react to being favourited by the creator and how the creator treats them pls <33

have a good day and no stress if you don't like the idea, just a lil brain rot i've been having recently

lei <3

Hello, Lei Anon! I'll gladly do this request! It's been a while since I've done something like this too lol—I'm doing great as of right now. I hope you're having a good day as well :) I hope you like what I got!

Alhaitham & Diluc Getting Favoritism Privileges ✨

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Diluc

When he heard rumors that he was being favored by the Almighty Creator, he denied it at first. It was just the drunkards in his tavern just talking and rambling. There wasn't anything that could be used as solid proof to back up their drunk claims.

If it wasn't for the fact that you strolled on in, saying, "Diluc, my favorite Main!" he probably would never have believed it.

With your attention consistently on him, Diluc is often praised for gaining Mondstadt the true blessing of the Almighty Creator. Diluc is constantly being given gifts that you find, bought, or crafted—be it a chair made of the finest wood, a fresh bouquet of freshly picked asters and cecilias, or a fresh pair set of clothes with the best quality of silk! Or, whenever you think your gifts aren't enough—mora.

"Your Grace...there is no need for any of this." Diluc doesn't know what to do with the amount of gifts you're giving him constantly. He doesn't even know where to place them in your manor. Adelinde and the other maids are even struggling to maintain the overflow of gifts you've been gifting.

And you, of course, don't think this is enough. "Diluc needs more love" is your motto now!

Alhaitham

Alhaitham's heard of the rumors about being favored by the Almighty Creator. Even Kaveh brought it up, drunk or not, about how Alhaitham was like the golden child of the Their Divine Grace.

Like the usual guy he is, he shrugs it off. Rumors cannot be taken as truth, but that does get him intrigued. Thus, he starts researching to see if these rumors were true, and if not, what parts of the rumor were true.

Turns out, the answer was rather easy to find—you just straight up walked up to him and handed a few books you thought he might find interesting for him. And by a few, I mean at least 50 books.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to bring any of this home—" "I can help you bring it home!" "—nor do I have the space for it." "I can buy you a new shelf! No, actually, I'll build you your own private library!" "Oh? You're even more intriguing than I thought, Your Grace. Allow me to ask for your help and aid to carry these books home."

You would often buy him books, or give him more mora, or hell, even gift him any furniture or equipment he needed! Anything he needed, you would find a way to supply it to him, or just gift it to him in general, because why not!

Safe to say that Alhaitham took quiet amusement to Kaveh's flabbergasted expression and shock. And, ever the perfectionist he was, how Kaveh was fumbling on shelving the books in the new (big) library you built beside his house that only he (and Kaveh) could access.

Safe to say he is grateful for your favoritism.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Dang, is my mailbox exploding with brainrots from people LOL. I certainly wasn't expecting this! I do hope these posts are up to your liking :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[ashonheavenscloud]

the duke and i || k. sunwoo

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: duke!kim sunwoo x lady!reader, bridgerton-esque au, flirting and TENSIONNNN

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.1k

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: none they’re just down bad KSJDJDJ

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: wrote this with mi amor @lixiesfreckless on a train ride lol🤪 we also watched season 2 of bridgerton in 24 hours earlier this week so this is 100% born of brainrot. ENJOYYYY

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sunwoo is a gentleman, by all standards. Well-spoken, well-dressed; polite, prim and proper. Everything about the tuxedo-clad son of the duke screams elegant society. His posture, the careful grip on his flute of champagne, the subtle nods to the other respectable men in society, the way his hair is styled just-so at his eyebrows. No one would ever argue anything different at a first or second glance.

No one, except you of course.

The Sunwoo you had come to know has said, or rather, whispered words to you that cannot even be alluded to in polite society. The careful grip on his champagne flute translates rather misguidedly. He’s certainly not so cautious in the way he eyes you, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. And his hold on the glass is certainly not as delicate as the way he holds you.

Holds your gaze. Holds your thoughts. Holds your waist when you dance and you can barely breathe as his hands tease your lower back, like they are right now.

"Something on your mind, m'lady?" he whispers into your ear, and you curse your bloodstream for coloring your skin with the most flustered tint of cherry at his proximity.

"Just counting my steps, so that I do not tarnish your shoes, your grace," you lie, not wanting to reveal what dangerous waters your mind had wandered into.

"You jest," he smirks, looking at you sideways as he pulls you into a spin, "surely my lady has no problem keeping up with me."

Sunwoo guides you to twist around, following the careful steps of the dance with your back pressed to his chest. Your heart stumbling at the feeling of his breath on your ear, you concentrate harder to not let your feet clumsily follow suit. “It is not a question of skill, but a question of maintaining both of our pride. There are eyes on us, maybe even that of the Queen-”

“Their eyes do not matter.” Sunwoo murmurs, taking your hands and guiding them over your head, into a twist, before pulling you back to face him. There’s a gleam in his irises. “Just keep yours on me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, you follow his instruction, and a shiver runs up your spine as you finally notice how intently he's gazing at you.

In the depths of your mind, there is a voice that reasons that no one knows him quite like you do. So perhaps it is not just a dance to him, similar to how multiple dances in a row have greater meaning to the trained eye.

And just like that, the touch of your hands, although gloved, becomes charged with something indescribable, something that travels to your fingertips to your stomach, eliciting that feeling that you've only ever read of.

It is not the first time it had ever happened with him, either.

Which is why when the song ends, and the two of you quit the dance floor, your eyes linger. Far too long, especially in a place so public, because despite Sunwoo’s words, there are eyes on you. But you can’t help it, not when he also keeps his eyes on yours, watching you take your place to the side several paces away.

The room feels hot, and you’re not sure if it’s the crowd, exertion from dancing, or something else entirely.

And Sunwoo’s eyes, never leaving your gaze, hold sparks that set you ablaze.

You need some air.

Excusing yourself quickly, you locate the nearest exit and duck through, hoping the next set of waltzing couples distracts enough that no one sees you disappear. The hallway leads you further into the estate, where you find a small room, perhaps an office or parlour, with floor to ceiling bookshelves and several pieces of furniture. The noise of the party is muffled, and you’re allowed silence to think- not that that’s easy, even with the respite.

Because despite being in solitude, your mind is stuck on Sunwoo’s hands trailing up your back and down your sides, Sunwoo's breath against your cheek, Sunwoo's voice in your ears-

Your reveries are halted by the sound of the door opening, that cursed head of dark brown hair peeking around the opening and sending your stomach into a tailspin again.

"I was wondering where you had run off to," he chuckles as he steps into the study, not understanding that you came there to essentially escape him.

"You should not be here," you suddenly say, breath coming out a little more breathless than you would have liked.

"Why not?" He clicks the door shut behind him as he surveys the room, perhaps checking for indecencies.

"Because...it's improper!"

Perfect, now you sound juvenile. In front of the only person who genuinely sees you as a lady at that.

“Are you feeling well m'lady? You're starting to sound like my mother.”

You huff, frustrated he doesn’t seem to understand the unreasonable state of mind you're in. Out of habit, you raise a gloved hand to your temple, as if that will quiet your thoughts.

Sunwoo does not take this lightly however; he crosses the room in a flash, a worried look crossing his face as he notices your posture and your flushed cheeks.

"Are you quite alright?" He asks, soft voice now laden with concern as he removes his glove, and raises his bare hand to your cheek, the coolness of his fingers doing little to calm the erratic beating of your heart.

In fact, you jump slightly at his touch, and this doesn't go unnoticed by him, a remark already tumbling out of his plush lips.

"Don't appear so troubled, it is only me."

"That is precisely the problem," you exhale, nearly throwing yourself into his arms as your lips crash into his.

A muffled, maybe even surprised sound escapes his lips upon first contact, and his free hand lands upon your hip to steady the both of you. At least at first.

What was truly surprising was how his grip subtly tightened around your dress, bunching in the beading and embroidery as he holds you impossibly close to him. He moves his lips against yours, and there is where you find the reasoning for all of the flowery depictions of this embrace you had read about all these years.

You collect your restraint and pull away slightly, only to find a flustered and smiling duke staring back at you.

“Well-” he pauses, just barely catching his breath, “I would hardly call that a problem.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

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