#to me it really feels like people are complaining just because people like to complain about change
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His Mistress: Demon!Jongho x Fem!Reader
Pairing: demon!Jongho x Fem!reader
Genre: smut, some angst/fluff
Word Count: 11k
Summary: YN takes to her new status as "Lady" very well. Yet, even as she edges closer to her former self, YN cannot help feeling the loneliness of the big keep. Only her servant, Jongho, could reassure her that even if she's in Hell, she isn't alone.
Tags: sub!jongho, switch!reader, mistress/servant synamic, 69-positions, bondage, restraints, monster fucking, demon fucking, light bdsm, rough oral, oral sex, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, thigh fucking, pet names, nipple play, dirty talk, tiny bit of squirting, exhibitionism(?), reader's first time as a femdom, emotional hurt/comfort, reader gets angsty at one point, childhood guilt, childhood trauma, mentions of abuse,
Previously on Pretty Pet > Next
***
“You remind me of a bear sometimes.”
On the ledge of your bathroom window, you watched Jongho prepare your morning bath. He wore his usual butler uniform with its tailored lines and shiny buttons. You couldn’t help seeing it while you looked at him. His square shoulders, his round cheeks and height gave him the presence of one. The fact he smelled like pinewood in fresh air strengthened the image.
“A bear?” he scoffed in a laugh. “What makes you say that?”
“Your size,” you thought out loud. “Your body and what’s in your pants.”
Even with his back turned to you, you knew he’d blushed. No matter how many times he’d seen you nude, been close enough and alone long enough, Jongho kept his distance. The moment in the bathroom was as far as he’d gone with you. Not that it bothered you. It felt nice knowing not everyone in the house desired you that way.
“Bears are meant to be scary,” he said, testing the water with his hand before deciding the temperature suitable. He looked over at you, brown hair hanging in his eyes, “Are you saying I’m scary?”
“To the wrong people, I’m sure you are.”
You walked to the tub, removing your thin chemise in the meantime, and stepped into the bubbly bathwater. Jongho appeared more than shocked when he woke up to the state of you and your bed. The peonies and vines you’d grown last night covered most of the bed; the moss parts acted like a blanket that trapped your body heat inside. The fact you'd gone to bed muddy bothered everyone but you. The dirt on your body felt more like a second skin than grime. You thought about staying that way until Jongho insisted you clean up.
Everything that happened yesterday came back in a blurry haze, staying in emotions and sensations than mental pictures. You thought you might have dreamed it all. You expected to wake up to Hongjoong’s kisses on your skin again, about to spend the day with San next. Your experience in the greenhouse felt akin to a religious experience. In the dirt and plants, an epiphany came. You aren't a slave. You are a goddess. A goddess of the trees. You'd dreaded waking up that morning in case it didn't really happen. However, you only woke to a stunned Jongho.
“I meant it in a kind way,” you inhaled the steaming scents coming from the water, “It’s comforting.” The water felt better than before. With it located near the windows, the sunlight energized you.
“How so?” Jongho took a gentle bath poof, and began washing you. He’d used the orange blossom oil this time. You soaked your lungs in the aroma, letting it wash over you along with the cloth.
“Sometimes…” you paused, unsure whether to be honest. “Sometimes, I feel alone here.”
“Alone? Psh, hardly, YN. You’re always around us and The Masters.”
“But even then, it can be lonely at times,” you said. “People around here usually talk to me just to end up sleeping with me. I’m not complaining, because it’s great, but…”
“It sucks when that’s all that happens?”
“Yeah,” you admitted in a groan. Lifting your other arm from the water, Jongho ran the wet cloth over your skin. “I wish they knew I was more than my body. They all talk as if we’re deeply in love, but they hardly know anything about me. They only know the bad things I’ve done, not anything else. If it wasn’t sexually related, they didn’t ask about it. Seonghwa might dig a bit deeper but that’s because he’s used to peeling back people’s layers.”
“Well,” Jongho let you sit up to wash your back, “That can change now. You’re not a slave anymore. You’re a Lady of Eden, and that’s not an empty title.”
“It’s not?”
“Psh, not at all. Lilith is a pretty important figure in Inferno,” he went from back to front, “She’s Prince Asmodeus’s sister, so naturally she is a princess. You’re one of her granddaughters, so you get the title of ‘Lady’.”
“Wow,” you soaked in the information, a giggle in your throat, “I’m a lady.”
“A beautiful one at that,” he said.
“Aw, Jongho,” you cooed, pinching his cheek.
He laughed softly. “You don’t have to go to breakfast, if you don’t want to. You can do whatever you want without their permission. You could even go outside the keep if you wished. You aren’t a slave anymore, Mistress. You’re a lady, and you will be treated like one.”
You rested your arm on the edge, head on top of it, and you grinned at him. “That means I can do whatever I want, right?”
“Absolutely. You don’t even have to go through with the schedules they’ve given you.”
“What a relief that’d be!” you blurted out to his laughter. “San has me do ‘housewife’ duties but not actually do them at the same time? It makes no sense. Cook also hates it when I go into the kitchen, but I have to on San’s days.”
“Don’t take that too personally,” he said. “Cook doesn’t like having anyone in the kitchen. He doesn’t even like the other cooks being there.”
“Hongjoong and Seonghwa don’t make it easy either,” you continued. “Seonghwa always wants to talk about things that happened in the past. His schedule feels like school, and Yeosang can be the worst.” Even with the last lesson going better than anticipated, you hated it nevertheless. “I can’t play music I like. I can’t read books I like. It only has to be the boring, classical stuff that nobody understands or cares about. Hongjoong just wants to fuck all the time. Literally, everything with him is sexual to one degree or another. I don’t normally complain about it, since it’s mind blowing, but it’d be nice if…if we just sat and talked. Itd be nice to know them and for them to really know me. It's stupid that it takes me being their equal to earn that, but it's a start.”
“It certainly is. The Masters have always respected you, Mistress. They only had good intentions with you.”
“I'm sure that was true but it never felt that way. Jongho,” you addressed him, “I spent my entire life living under someone else. I had to go by their rules and their standards. I only got power after I took it from them. For once, I felt important. I felt good. The only rules I lived by were my own. Then I came here, and became that nobody again. I ended up in this pretty cage to dance and bend over whenever they wanted. It's…”
“Restraining? Suffocating? Exhausting?”
“Yes,” you sighed, sinking back into the water. “I was somebody, Jongho.”
“I’ve heard,” he said, rubbing the loofa over your feet and toes. “A big hotshot businesswoman who conned people out of their money.”
“I wanted to be something more. I didn’t want to grow up to be my mother: getting pregnant right after college, working a minimum wage job and putting up with an abusive husband.” It turns out, you’d been completely wrong about that. “I wanted more from life. I saw she was a little nobody, and decided I’d be the opposite. I became friends with the popular kids at school; I dated the hottest boys, wore trendy clothes, and everyone knew me. When I graduated, I became a mail worker at a big corporate place. I managed to get a desk job after I paid a friend to falsify documents and degrees for me to use in resumes.”
“Then, you went on to become a stock broker.”
“In the worst way,” you said. Your previous life came back to you in the warm water and Jongho’s gentle touches. “I once got a girl fired so I could take her manager position. I made it look like she’d been stealing important documents from the big boss’s desk. He was paranoid that the competition was ‘stealing secrets’ from us. All I did was make it seem like she worked for them, and he fired her on the spot. I got the promotion, and earned more money.”
“What happened to her?”
“Have no idea,” you shrugged. A pang of guilt hit you thinking about it. “I assume she got a job elsewhere. It wasn’t like she couldn’t get one.”
“It was still a dirty move to pull.”
“But I pulled it.”
“So, the big boss just believed you? He didn’t investigate himself?”
“Yup,” you shut your eyes, enjoying his caresses on your body. “He said I was the only person he could trust.”
“Huh, that’s interesting.”
“Why?”
“You’d think somebody who is paranoid of everyone wouldn't blindly trust an office assistant.”
“I spent a lot of time around him. It's easy to manipulate people when you know what moves them. His happened to be his big ego and attention.”
Henry should have known better, in your opinion. Eventually, you ended up leaving the company after his wife found out about you both. It surprisingly worked in your favor since a friend of Henry’s took you on as his office manager. You don't feel good about it now, but at that moment it brought you on top of the world. The men who sought to control and own you became your puppets. They danced to your tune, all with the hope of gaining your love and affection. Some genuinely wanted a relationship, but you never went for them. You’s wanted to live without attachment back then, but as you thought to yourself, perhaps that wasn't so true anymore.
Jongho sunk his hand down to your thighs, which made you jump at first contact. He didn’t do it with the sexual caresses of your masters or Yeosang. Jongho remained precise and professional.
“You don’t like it?” you asked him, seeing his flustered cheeks.
“Like what?”
“Touching me there.”
“Oh, that…Um, I mean…Of course…”
“It’s okay if you don’t,” you said. “I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“No, no, you are,” he stammered. “You are my cup of tea, for sure.”
You giggled. “That’s hard to believe when everyone’s gotten a sip but you.”
“I had my sip,” he said. “I sipped it right here.”
“You only watched.”
“So did Yunho.”
“Yes, but he’s hardly around me. You’ve had plenty of opportunities and haven’t given in.”
“Does that bother you?”
“No, just curious.”
“I suppose because I can control myself when the others can’t,” he shrugged. “You were the Master’s pet, not mine.”
You leaned against the edge of the tub, bringing yourself within inches of him. “But I’m not anymore,” you said, moving closer to him. “I’m sure I can take up as many pleasure slaves as I wish. Would you if I put a collar on you?”
He laughed shyly, “Is that even a question? Naturally.”
“At least you can control yourself,” you noted. “If any of the others were here, they’d bury their faces in my pussy.”
“I understand I have a job to do,” he said. “Things like that can be saved for another time.”
“You mean when there’s no schedule or hurry to get somewhere?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “If I want to do anything with you, I’d wait until there’s plenty of time. I don’t want to rush through it.”
You grinned, rolling on your side to face him. “You want to enjoy me the right way.”
“Yes. You deserve that.”
“I do?”
“You’re always being fucked in a hurry,” he said. “The other servants do it in between schedules or when the masters are already going at you. I like to go at my own pace.”
“How sweet,” you said. “It’s nice to know for future reference.”
He finished cleaning you up, and you stood from the water. Despite what he’d said, you saw the way Jongho’s eyes lingered on your naked body. You never got over their lust for you. You’d lived in the keep for three months, and you still caught them looking at you. You swore they watched you through the mysterious peepholes around the place. It boosted your mood whenever you managed to arouse one of them, even if momentarily. With your new status, you knew you could manipulate that. The charms you’d worked on weaker men seemed to work on full-blooded demons as well.
You couldn’t wait to see how well it works.
Leaving the bathroom, Jongho took you to the dressing room. Wooyoung already picked out the ‘San’ outfit of the day: a light green dress with its cinched waistline, frilly full skirt, and closely snug bodice. The pretty, elegant housewife that San adored. It disgusted you. Turning to Wooyoung, you put your hands on your hips and said:
“Yeah, I’m not wearing that.”
“What?” Wooyoung looked at you in disbelief. He turned to Jongho, “She’s kidding, right?”
“I’m the one talking, and no, I’m not kidding. I’m not June Cleaver. I’m not wearing this.”
“Master San-”
“-Can wear it if he likes it so much. I want something newer, something more modern, and doesn’t constrict me.” Visions of a former, fully-human YN sprung back to you in a series of fond memories: Going to dance clubs with friends on weekends; taking drives around town listening to music and smoking cigarettes. “I want to wear high-waisted pants and shorts again; ripped knees, lacy shirts and leg warmers. I want bright, funky colors and makeup styles. I want my teased hair or tight curls or whatever I’m into at the moment. I want the elegance of Princess Di and the sexiness of Madonna. I want to be cute and feminine like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles.” You thought about it with longing, “I want to be me again.”
Wooyoung nodded, hand on his chin as he considered your request. “An 80’s babe, huh? I can make that work. I’ll need time though.”
“That’s fine,” you said. “I’m sick of being dressed up like a Barbie doll. I’m more than that.”
“Then what are you wearing today? Nothing?”
You looked around the dressing room. For once, you browsed the different outfits yourself. Seonghwa’s styles bordered between lolita dolls to elegant rich girls. Hongjoong like the hot goth girl with fishnets and lace. San, as you knew, liked full skirts and heels. No. None of that. You found a button down in Seonghwa’s section, white with a red polka dot design. With scissors from the nail kit, you cut it across, creating a loose crop top. You discovered a pair of distressed acid wash shorts in Hongjoong’s part, which you paired with a white belt with a crescent-moon buckle. Simple white sneakers remained hidden behind San’s shoe collection, which you tied on yourself.
“Accessorize,” you said next, grabbing oversized hoop earrings, multiple bangles and necklaces.
Excitement shoots through your nerves as you put yourself together. It reminded you of nights out with friends or trips to the mall.
“Oh my god, I remember doing stuff like this at the mall!” you sighed fondly, slipping on several bangles. “I’d go there every weekend with my friends and we’d shop around, try stuff on, get food at the food court, hang out and gossip. It was the best,” you beamed.
“Like a true 80’s teen.”
You turned around, and Wooyoung wore a bright, wide smile. Shaking his head, he had clasped hands over his mouth as he took you in. He let out a cheer, clapping as you twirled in front of him.
“Get in the chair, girl,” Wooyoung said, excited beyond belief. “Get in the chair. I know exactly what to do. Jongho, get my hair kit.”
You’d never seen the stylist so ecstatic before.
“I have been dying to experiment!” he confirmed, working gel through your hair. “I love a good lolita style or a punk rock look, but gosh it got so dull. Where’s the pizzazz? The flare? The fire? Everything looked so dated! If I had to make one more frilly dress, I was going to puke.”
By the time Wooyoung finished, you felt refreshed. Staring at yourself in the long mirror, you didn't feel like a slave anymore. You might as well be at Saks, trying on new clothes for your wardrobe after being at the salon. You twirled again, trying to see it from all angles before deciding you loved it.
“It's gorgeous!” you beamed, fixing your hair around your face. The old you. The one who didn't wear a collar or work in a brothel. Happiness swelled in your chest, burning your eyes with tears. “I love it so much! It's absolutely wicked!” you turned to Wooyoung, jumping and hugging him tightly. “You're the best!”
“Thank you, I know.”
“I need more,” you told him, still in his arms. “I need so much more. How soon can you have it done?”
“Next week,” Wooyoung said. “Any icon you want in particular?”
“Surprise me.”
“Done.”
He kissed both your cheeks, snapped his fingers for his assistants to pack up everything. Wooyoung made a box with his fingers, eyeing you through it like a photographer does to their subject.
“It's totally inspired,” Wooyoung said happily. “I'm going to make you an absolute icon. Everyone will be talking about it. Everyone, everyone, everyone!”
“That's exactly what I want.”
“Good. Come by my shop tomorrow. We can go over designs together.”
“Perfect!”
You saw the clothes people wore in the city. It spanned between medieval and contemporary, but mostly remained drab and dark. You didn't mind a bit of black from time to time, though not every day. Fluffing up your hair again, you left the dressing room and walked to breakfast. You knew you'd be late, and that Cook will grumble when you change your menu, but you didn’t care. A light, airy feeling came over you, making you feel positively giddy.
“Today is the start of something great, Jongho,” you smiled going down the stairs. “I can feel it!”
“Absolutely, Mistress. I'm glad to see it.”
When you walked into San's dining room, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered more. Sitting at his usual spot at the table, coffee and breakfast in front of him as he read a newspaper.
“Morning!” you said, strutting into the dining room with hopes that he'd notice you. The daisies in the centerpiece did. You didn’t know how, since they didn’t move, but they did.
“Morning, Darling,” he said, sipping his coffee and continuing to read. “You took quite a while. I thought I was going to have to go to your dressing room myself. Wooyoung being indecisive again?”
“Not really,” you stood in front of him, “He and I were collaborating on something new.”
“Oh? Like what?” When he finally put the paper down, his face dropped. San sat there taking you in for a minute or so before he spoke. “This is certainly a change.”
“A big one,” you grinned. “Do you like it?”
“Does my opinion matter?” he said, unable to look away from you.
“Of course it does,” you said, sitting down in front of him. Jongho poured your coffee and set out the cream and sugar for you. You began fixing it yourself, “I might not be your slave anymore, but I still care about you. I hope you’d feel the same?”
“Yes, you little fool,” he said with a slight head shake, smiling softly. “I'd never stop caring for you, Darling. I can still call you that, can I?”
“I quite like it, so yeah,” you beamed, getting a sip of coffee. Jongho served your breakfast, a spinach omelet with nothing else. “Yeah, I'm not eating this. I want pancakes and bacon.”
“But, um, the masters planned healthy meals for you, Mistress,” Jongho said timidly. “I’m not sure if Cook can go outside the plan.”
“Tell him that he can, and he will because I want crispy bacon and a stack of fluffy pancakes.”
Jongho glanced at San, and you knew what he was asking. Even with your new status, you needed permission.
“With some eggs, at least?” San suggested to you.
“Eggs are fine. Could you tell Cook I'd like pancakes, eggs and bacon, please?”
“Right away, Mistress.”
He took your plate back and left in a puff of smoke. San still grinned in amusement over his newspaper.
“Someone's changed overnight,” San noted, surprised by your new attitude. “You took to your new status easier than I thought you might.”
“It isn't much different to my previous life,” you shrugged, fixing your coffee on your own. “I just get called ‘Mistress’ instead of ‘Ma'am’.”
“What about the clothes upstairs?” he asked. “We paid a lot of money for those. I'd hate to see them get wasted.”
“I can still wear some of them,” you said. You took a sip of your coffee, and hummed at the sweetness. “I'll keep the ones I like. I'm tired of rotating the same outfits because you three wanted to dress me up like a doll. Everything in that closet is so old and lame. You wanted me to shine, but I was doing anything but that.”
“If you hated your dresses-”
“-I didn't hate them. They just weren't me.”
“Well, if you wanted something else, you could have asked me. I would've had Wooyoung make you new things.”
“I didn't know I could.”
“I'm not Seonghwa,” he said, going back to his coffee and newspaper. “I don't mind bending my own rules every so often. I told you I wanted you to be happy.”
“I thought you meant the type of happiness you approved of at the time.”
“No. I want you to be whatever type of happy you feel.” He then said, “Even if you prefer sleeping in a greenhouse now.”
“I didn't sleep there.”
“One of the maids said your bed is covered in flowers and moss.”
“That kind of happened on its own? I was thinking about my mother again and she loved peonies. I guess that extended to the vine I had on my arm.”
“That is one thing we hoped you'd at least want to do,” he said. “We don't know the extent of your powers yet. You need to learn how to control them the way other demons do. We can't have doors getting blown off whenever you throw a tantrum.”
“How would I do that?”
“With a mix of people.”
“Like?”
“Yeosang, Yunho, Mingi, Seonghwa, Hongjoong and myself,” he said, “To name a few. In a way, they are still those lessons you hated but now actually things you need. It won't be easy, but we'll be there to help you.” He noticed the wilting daisies, and said, “Let's do something now: tru making those healthy again.”
“They are pretty sad,” you frowned, looking at the flowers in their tiny vase. “The vase is too small for them and nobody’s changed the water.”
“You can make them grow. Give it a shot.”
You reached out to the lowest hanging one. Delicately, you touched one of its smooth petals, seeing where it began withering away. You smiled when gradually, the small bundle began filling with color again. Their stems turned their normal green, and the tiny buds along the stems bloomed right before your eyes.
“There…” you smiled at the flowers, “All better.”
“Plant manipulation,” San concluded. “That much is obvious. With a bit more training, we can find out what other abilities you have hidden inside you.”
“Does Yeosang have to be there?”
He chuckled, “Not all the time.”
Jongho brought your breakfast, and you groaned at the sight of it. “I always used to get pancakes after a night out,” you said, drizzling syrup on them. “Nothing's better than stuffing your face after getting plastered.”
San smiled as he watched you eat your breakfast. He took in your new look and attitude from afar. You're sure he'd hoped you'd keep wearing the dresses, but he knew you wouldn't. You'd broken free of your collar, and you'd never do what you didn't want to again.
“Before you go gallivanting around the city,” he said, finishing his coffee and breakfast, “You'll have to go to the registration office. You have a meeting with Jackson.”
“The department head guy?”
“That's him. He has paperwork you need to read through and sign.”
“Ugh, even in Hell you can't escape red tape.”
“It's an essential part to the system unfortunately,” he agreed.
“Do you have paperwork? I'm not even sure what it is you do there.”
“I work the battleground most days,” he said. “But, there are days where I commentate instead so yeah, there's paperwork sometimes. You know, reading off the list of challengers and fighters, knowing their stats and skills.”
“So, like sports?”
“Yeah. Everyone goes to the arena, so there’s also ticket sales, concessions, and other boring financial stuff too. It's the worst part of it.”
“Can I go sometime?”
“You're free to do as you like.”
“But I still want to ask. I'd be a dick if I showed up without you wanting me to be there.”
“Why would I not want you there? I'd love to have my Darling cheering me on from the stands.”
“I don't know,” you shrugged. “I had a boyfriend who hated it when I showed up to his football practices. He said he felt embarrassed because his teammates would talk about me.”
“Shitty boyfriend then.”
“Very. I dumped him a week later.”
San laughed, and you began discussing previous partners. Talking to him as normal couples do felt refreshing. The barrier between master and slave lifted and you became equals. Whether they liked it or not, they had to address you like a person.
“I am going to miss coming home to you,” he said as you walked with him to the apartment door. “I liked walking in to see you all dolled up and waiting for me. It felt nice.”
“I’ll still be here when you come back,” you told him. “It’s not like I’m going to completely throw out everything.” You wrapped your arms around his midsection, “I’ll always want to have dinner and spend time with you. That part doesn’t change.”
“Like I said, the schedules were Seonghwa’s dumb idea,” San assured. He kissed your forehead, “I didn’t mind you having freedom. Now, it seems I have no choice in it anymore.”
“Not entirely,” you kissed his lips, then said, “Have a good day.”
“I will now that I’ve gotten kisses from you.”
“Ugh, you’re so corny sometimes,” you laughed.
“You love it.”
You both said goodbye again, and you turned to Jongho who stood behind you. “San says I have a meeting with someone named Jackson?”
“You do,” Jongho nodded. “Yunho gave me the news in the kitchen. He’s expecting us soon. Unless, you’d rather not go?”
“It sounds important, so we should probably go,” you said. “I love a little city excursion. Go get Mingi and bring a car around. I’ll go grab a purse.”
“Will do, Mistress.”
He disappeared and you left the apartment. Purse options being quite limited, you chose one and transferred things from the last one. Determined to make the most of your day, you’d go to the boring meeting, then do something fun. You didn’t know what yet, but Jongho might have an idea or two.
****
Demon transportation varied depending on taste. Hongjoong liked the sleek luxury vehicles befitting a rich boy; Seonghwa’s white and gold carriages reminded him of his times in mortal world; San drove old fashion muscle cars and motorcycles. You remembered from times in the city that demons drove all kinds of cars and bikes. Taxis could be cars or horses and buggies. In the backseat of a fancy black car, you watched the multiverse of Inferno move past you. On paved roads, you saw the metropolis demons created for themselves. You learned fashion spanned centuries: you saw men dressed like Roman gladiators and women dressed in the height of Victorian style. One street vendor wore a jester’s costume and sold peppermint sticks and hard candies. A couple strolling the market district wore the Korean hanboks of kings and queens.
“I never realized how diverse this place was,” you said to Jongho. He sat beside you while Mingi drove down the street. Your bodyguard never refused a trip into the city. “People really just kept on living whatever life they lived upstairs.”
“It was a lot easier than adapting to a new society, I suppose,” Jongho shrugged. “Not many demons like admitting it, but when we started going up into the living world, we picked up a lot of human customs. Everything from fashion to music to sports and entertainment. We sort of absorbed it then regurgitated it back out.”
“Mingi mentioned that to me yesterday,” you said, staring out the window. “It’s messed up. Demons like looking down on humans, but they actually take so much from us. They hate us, but won’t admit how much they actually need us.”
“Us?”
“You know what I mean.”
“And not all demons hate humans,” he said. “I quite like them. They’re fun to mess with.”
“In what way?”
With a click of his fingers, the purse on your lap vanished before your eyes. Before you could protest, you saw it in Jongho’s hand. He gave you a mischievous smile, handing you the bag back, “You should’ve seen what I could do in the living world.”
“Huh?”
“Up in the living world, I used to possess people and cause general mischief,” he shrugged, “No big deal.”
“Sounds like a big deal,” you snorted. “What’s it like possessing someone?”
“It varies,” he said. “Some people made it incredibly easy while others put up a fight. You kind of have to linger around for a bit and do stuff. You know, like opening all the drawers in their house, making weird sounds, and the usual tricks. Professionals know to start with the soft stuff before pulling out the big guns.”
“You mean general ghost stuff to make them think it’s a poltergeist or a spirit and not a demon?”
“Precisely. It’s all in the mind games. Get them paranoid. Gaslight them and make them see stuff or question their own sanity little by little. Ooh, and if it’s a couple?! Double the pleasure, double the fun,” he laughed, delight in his soft eyes. “I used to like turning them on one another. The negative energy really opens up the gateway into possession. Then, when you finally got ‘em good and angry, then the fun begins for real.”
“Tell me more,” you insisted.
Jongho then divulged into various possession stories. He told you about the young man he took on a crime spree across South Korea. He mentioned the young couple he terrorized for months before they found a priest unafraid of demons. He delivered every story with the same delight a person does with fond memories. It felt good sitting next to him, listening and talking without sex being involved. You enjoyed a good fuck as much as anyone, but must it be every time?
“Did you ever possess anyone, Mingi?” you asked, resting your head on the partition window.
“Nah, not my thing,” he shook his head. “It feels like wearing someone’s old, dirty clothes. It’s gross to me.”
“Have you done it?”
“A few times. It’s sort of a right-of-passage thing for younger demons,” he answered. “It’s expected.”
“Oooh, can I possess people?” you asked, excited.
“Nope,” Jongho said from behind you. “You’re part-human, Mistress.”
“I have demon blood though.”
“Not enough for you to enter another person’s mind and corrupt their spirit,” he smiled at your excitement. “Besides, you don’t need to possess someone to get them to do what you want. You have your charms and your lips to do that.”
“My kisses just make people horny. That’s not that special.”
“I’m sure if you experimented, Mistress, you’d be able to do more than control a person’s genitals with those lips.”
“You think I can control people?” you asked, sitting back in your seat beside him. “Like, their minds?”
“Maybe. I’ve seen it done. We’d have to test it as we go.”
“And here we are,” Mingi interrupted, stopping the car outside an office building.
You might be back home on the way to work if it weren’t for the eternal smog covering the skies and the constant heat. The range of different demons also changed the scene considerably. On a sign outside, you saw the words “City of Inferno Official Headquarters” with a directory sign beside it. There, you glimpsed departments such as “Crossroad Appeals Office”, “Possession and Infestation”, and “Cambion Counseling and Aid”. Jongho didn’t lie. Demons truly modeled themselves after humans in every aspect of life.
Mingi opened your door for you and you stepped out. Putting on sunglasses from your purse, you gazed around the front area while Jongho discussed a wait time with Mingi. You always imagined Hell being a landscape of fire and brimstone, not a city with buildings and parking spaces. The revelation had been startling at first. When Jongho came back to you, he led you into the building.
“Just let me do the talking,” he told you as you entered. “Master Seonghwa submitted your initial paperwork already, but you do need to sign and confirm some things with Jackson.”
“What paperwork?”
“Nothing major,” he said, pressing an elevator button, “Just basic information to have on hand: family names, occupations, housing, offspring and all that. Since you went unregistered your entire life, you’ll have a few more questions than most people.”
It sounded dull, but you didn’t want the masters getting into trouble. They may have kept you like a pet, but they didn't ongoing mistreat or abuse you. At least, not in a way you didn't consent to. You entered the elevator, and Jongho pressed for the fourth floor. You rode in silence, nerves starting to pinch as the elevator climbed.
“Fourth Floor: Department of Cambion Relations, Cambion Counseling and Aid, and Cambion Registration,” a cool female voice said as the doors opened up onto the floor.
Across the entire floor, you saw dozens of cubicles and desks. Demons worked on computers, typing up reports or answering phone calls. A few passed by you with folders or boxes with more papers inside. The hum of general chatter, printing machines, computers and keyboards reminded you once again of home. You breathed in the crisp air, letting it sink into you. Jongho brought you over to a reception desk near the doorway, where a female succubus sat working on her computer.
“Morning,” Jongho said, “We’re here to see Mr. Wang from Registration?”
“Room thirteen,” she said, without looking away from her screen.
“Thanks.”
Jongho led you alongside the office space, both your footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. The atmosphere remained alive and buzzing. It brought back memories of the YN you left behind. Finding Room Thirteen, Jongho gave a soft knock before a voice spoke out.
“Come in.”
Jackson Wang appeared suave and chic in his emerald suit and trimmed, parted hair. You understood immediately why he and Seonghwa were friends. He'd finished typing on his keyboard when he saw Jongho in the doorway.
“Jongho, good morning! How are you?”
Jackson stood up to greet your handler. His office looked similar to many you'd seen before: clever unopened books on the shelves, fake plants in pristine pots, cluttered paperwork and leather furniture. All on top of a light blue carpet that muffled all sounds. Jackson and Jongho exchanged pleasantries while you looked around. Degrees and certificates came from universities in the living world; what sort of demon goes to a human college? You supposed college campuses might be full of “sin”. But, it sounded so unlike what demons claim to do.
“And this must be YN,” Jackson turned to you, and you shook hands. “Seonghwa told me all about you. Your story truly is unique. It's incredibly rare for a cambion to go unregistered in this day and age, especially with the new system.”
“I suppose my mother hoped I never ended up here,” you shrugged, eyeing the fake fern in the corner. You hated the fake ones. They had no life and carried that cheap plastic shine. “Seonghwa mentioned paperwork?”
“Yes,” Jackson gestured to the two armchairs, and went around to his desk chair. He began withdrawing a folder from a file drawer, “Nothing too complicated. It's mostly just documents saying you come into our world understanding our laws, and will abide by them at all times. There are a few consensus forms, since that helps us keep track of the cambion population.” He passed you a vanilla folder, “Seonghwa already went ahead and put himself down as your demon host, so the housing document is already filled out.”
“Demon host?”
“The demon you're living with until you find your own place to live or until you live with him permanently,” he said. “They're responsible for making sure you keep yourself in line, and learn our way of life down here. In normal cases, the host is usually the parent if they come back from the living world. But, in your case, it'd be Seonghwa, since he's the heir.”
The first form seems simple enough. It asked for age, date of birth, date of death, height and other useless facts. The second form listed the basic laws of Inferno, and that you understood and respected them. You didn’t see yourself committing any crimes, so you signed it. The third described what the form called “Acknowledgement of Inheritance and Social Status”.
“Inheritance?” you looked up to Jackson. “I inherit stuff?”
“Yes,” Jackson consulted his computer, typing in a few words before turning to you, “You’re a Lady of Eden so naturally that earns you a garden patch in Eden, should you want that. Since your mother is a daughter of Lilith, making you a first-generation granddaughter, you earn the title of Marchioness-”
“-Marchioness?!-”
“-Which affords you special nobility status, obviously,” he said finally.
“For example,” Jongho said, “Master Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San are Prince Asmodeus’s sons, so they’re technically Dukes over regular lords. They don’t like to flaunt their titles so much, but they have them on paper. Any children they should have would be a Marquess or Marchioness. I thought Yeosang would’ve covered the hierarchy system with you.”
“We were getting there.”
The news surprised you. You knew you’d be a person of some importance, but YN, Marchioness of Eden, sounded so official and regal.
“Your title, as it says there, changes if you ever married someone of a higher rank,” said Jackson. “Let’s say you end up marrying Seonghwa. You’d go from Marchioness to Duchess. Most demons don’t marry below their social class, but it does happen and that person goes a step down instead. Psh, it’s embarrassing in my opinion but true love conquers all I suppose.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
The question slipped out before you could stop it. With it hanging in the air, heat filled your cheeks at once. The question crossed your mind several times since learning about it. Wanting to protect you from Inferno seemed to be the only logical answer, but protect you from what? You guessed being a royal in Hell had more downsides to upsides. Your mother left her entire demon life behind her. She could have returned at any time, but chose the living world. Thinking back to the masters’ mother, you wondered if she’d originally planned on coming back home but never did. No, not Mama. She wasn't like that. Finishing up the next few documents, mostly “Visitation Confidentiality” and “Eternal Stay”, you handed the folder back to Jackson. He double checked all the forms before smiling up at you.
“Perfect,” he beamed. “I’ll send these to the certification and identification departments so you can get your identification card. It helps us keep track of the population, you see. It’ll take a few days, but with this information in the system, you’re free to visit Eden.”
“Visit Eden?”
“It’s customary for newcomers to visit their homelands, so to speak,” he placed one paper in a fax machine, punching the right number into it. “Lilith loves welcoming her children and grandchildren home. She’ll be delighted by you specifically, since you’re a first-generation grandchild.”
“What’s she like?” The thought of meeting such a high ranking demon made you anxious.
“Pleasant most of the time. Just don’t step on her hydrangeas. The Sisters of Eden will be expecting you, so I’d get it out of the way if I were you.”
“Would my mother be there?” you asked in a small voice, fear injecting itself into your veins. It made you sick. “I…I don’t know what happened to her before I died.”
You never bothered asking. Guilt stuck to your chest thinking of every time you screened her calls or pretended not to be home. You were so mean. If you had any regret, it’d be what you did to her. Would she forgive you? You pushed her away from your mind, and stood up.
“I guess we’re done here then?”
“Yeah, pretty much,” he nodded, standing to shake your hand and Jongho’s, good to see you as always. Let’s get together when you’re not busy waiting on people. Though, to be honest,” he turned to look at you, “I wouldn’t mind waiting on her.”
Too blinded by guilt to really take in the compliment, you just nodded and smiled. You and Jongho left the office, and ended up in the elevator before you knew it. The last conversation you had with her came sliding back into your head.
‘Julie’s having a baby shower. You should come.”
“I hate Julie.”
“I know, but I’d…I’d like to see you, honey cake.”
She loved you so damn much. You resented her weakness, but it turned out you’d been wrong the entire time. That desperate need to fix things poked at you as you got back into the car. Yet, fear kept you planted. What if she did hate you? You’d never consider her capable of hate, but that’d been before the truth came out. You wouldn’t blame her. You’d hate yourself too if the roles were reversed.
“Mistress?” Jongho broke through your train of thought, trying to catch your glazed eyes. “Mistress?”
“Huh? Wha…Oh yeah, what’s…What’s up?”
“Where do you want to go next? The Quarter Cafe is open, and they serve the best beignets in the city.”
“I’m not hungry right now.”
“The Merchant’s District, then? They have fashion boutiques spanning across different centuries of clothing. I know this one dress maker who makes gorgeous 18th century gowns. She worked for Marie Antionette I heard. Master Seonghwa would enjoy it, for sure.”
“I’m…That’s not my thing.”
“Shopping is your ‘thing’ though.”
She wouldn’t hate you. Mama never hated anyone; not even annoying customers at the shop or that bitch Loraine who stole her peach cobbler recipe. But, you’d treated her so terribly. Your father died a few years before you, which left her alone. Safe, but alone. You like to think she came back home.
“Mistress, we can’t stay here all day.”
“Destination, please,” Mingi said, “That rent-a-cop keeps eyeing me.”
She sought out the comfort of home and her demon family. She’d be surrounded by her flowers and plants in an endless spring. Jackson suggested you go see your grandmother, which will be a different kind of anxiousness, but what if she’s there as well?
“Are there any gardening stores or florists in town?” you finally asked.
“A fair few,” he answered. “Why?”
“Take me to the best one. I want to see Octavius,” you told him, “And the rest. That greenhouse is in serious need of some serious TLC. Maybe the supply store will have whatever I need.”
“Perfect!”
Mingi drove you to a small hardware store that had a gardening station. The potted “starter plants” all cooed when you walked past them, though you’re sure only you heard them. You decided you’d buy them another time. You had plants who needed you at home. Toiling the earth and regrowing those neglected plants would force her from your mind. It’ll erase the questions and worries floating around in your head. Too much went on today for you to add her to the list. Buying the standard supplies, bags of fertilizers and fresh soil, you went back home determined to keep yourself occupied.
Anything to keep her away.
****
“I just died in your arms tonight. It must’ve been something you said. I just died in your arms tonight…”
They liked the music. You watched the yellow-mouths sway side to side to the song in separate pots as you refreshed their soil. A row of purple and pink hibiscuses sat on a shelf moving to the beat of Cutting Crew’s ‘Died in Your Arms’ above you. The small stereo you’d stolen from Hongjoong’s bedroom sat on a wooden table where Jongho placed snacks for you, but you didn’t have an appetite. Instead, you asked him to bring you a bucket of innards for Octavius’s offspring, who only ate meat.
“You guys are going to feel so good when I finish,” you said, adding a bit more soil to their box, then digging separate holes to transfer them. “Seonghwa should be ashamed of himself honestly. He created all of you, then left you to suffer here alone. You must be starving for attention.”
A low rumble came from nearby. You looked to see the purple and blue plant wiggling its stamen in the air. You smiled.
“I’ll get to you soon enough, Lucius. You just hang on. Everyone’s getting their turn.”
As you delicately placed the yellow-mouths back in their planter, you felt something shift behind you. “No, Jongho, I don’t need anything right now. Thank you.”
“It’s my job to stand nearby in case you need me, Mistress,” he said, coming up beside you.
You noticed he’d changed out of his butler uniform into a flannel shirt, boots, and denims. He looked different outside his uniform, which always looked so clean and proper. Here, he might’ve passed for a human were it not for his horns. You noticed he'd rolled his sleeves to his elbows, showing off his lean forearms. He picked up a bucket of loose soil and a spade, walking over to Lucius.
“You really don’t have to do that,” you told him, standing up from the planter and wiping off loose dirt from your knees. “I really don’t mind working here myself. It’s sort of therapeutic for me, especially after what’s been happening.”
“Mistress, you are my sole responsibility around here,” he said. He examined Lucius, taking in his withering curved petals that resembled a seat. “If I left you here alone, and something happened to you, The Masters would have my head.”
“It’s not like I’m their property anymore,” you told him. You saw Jongho starting to dig around Lucius, but you stopped him. “His soil is fine. He’s just thirsty. Samantha, watering can, please.”
One of Ocatvius’s offspring approached with a watering can. You tossed her a strip of raw meat from a bucket, and she slumped away. Once you began pouring around Lucius, the bulb glowed with life and squealed happily. It made you smile. These plants might be sentient creatures made for pleasure and pain, but they had the same needs as any other. Lucius, getting enough water, closed himself up and glowed dimly. He was good for a while.
“Like I said,” you continued, moving over to a shelf of various normal plants. “You don’t need to worry about them. I’m your mistress, and if I say you don’t have to be around, then you don’t have to be.”
You touched their faded, dry leaves and petals, feeling them clinging to life. You assessed the damage to be too much direct sunlight and no water. Pressing your hand to a nearby vine, you coaxed it to spread across the wide window. You grabbed the watering can and began pouring generous amounts in each pot. Their relief radiated off them as water seeped into their dry soil. You hated thinking how long they'd sat in the sunlight, left to die. You knew you could heal them with a simple touch, but working the plants yourself felt better. You also sensed they liked their sunlight and water given directly.
“And if I want to be?” he asked, grabbing a spray bottle to water the smaller, more delicate plants. “Would you still send me away?”
“Not really, I don’t think so. It's not like anyone around here actually talks to me,” you said. With the first shelf finished, you moved to the next one.
“I talk to you,” he said, mildly offended.
“Obviously I didn't mean you. I meant other people.”
“The others talk to you too. The Masters as well.”
“They talk about me,” you pointed out, “Not to me. They only do it when they’re horny.”
“Alright, yes that’s true at times,” he said, uncertain of how to continue now. He watched you begin repotting a dying orchid, and you knew he fished for something to say. “The Masters and the rest of us might enjoy sex with you, but that doesn’t mean it’s all we want. We are incubi after all. It’s in our nature, and it’s in yours too.” You saw him grin out of the corner of your eye, “You’ve gone after them a few times in the past. The lust isn’t entirely one sided.”
“I suppose not.”
“Since when have you cared about an emotional connection, anyways?”
“Never, but…” you held the soil bag in front of you, “But, it’d be nice if there was one.”
“And there is,” he insisted. “Master Hongjoong typically throws people out of his bed when he’s done with them, or leaves before they wake up. With you, he stays and you stay. He curls up and holds you as if he thinks you'll leave him. Master Seonghwa never lets anyone in his private library, but here he is, letting you have your lessons there. Master San, psh…” he scoffed, “You should’ve seen what he did to that one demon in the arena. He decapitated him after he said he was going to take you from him.”
“What? When was this?”
“It happened in the arena, supposedly. Some of the footmen go there on their off day to see the fights,” he said. “Occasionally, they’ll throw in demon challenger to sort of spice things up, you know? And this one big guy said he heard you’d become San’s pleasure slave. This is all just bravado a lot of the time, by the way,” he added quickly, “But what I heard through the grapevine was that he said he’d cut off San’s head then claim you as his prize. Well, according to one of the guys, San ended up chopping off his head instead.”
“He…He killed someone for me?”
“In a way,” he shrugged. “It was the night he came home with that really bad cut on his torso.”
You recalled that night as you stuck the orchid back in a brand new pot. San not being home on time was your first clue something might’ve gone wrong. Not wanting to make a huge deal out of it, you prepared dinner like normal and waited. And waited. And waited. It was nine o’clock by the time he came through the door with Yunho in tow. He’d taken off his shirt and jacket, so you saw the thick bandages wrapped around his lean torso. The spot of black blood broke the confusion right away. You remembered everything suddenly being about San and his injury. The roast you’d “made” no longer mattered. You’d gone with Yunho into the bedroom, where the butler went to work redressing San’s messy bandages. It’d been ghastly. Ripped, thick and deep, you worried Yunho might not be able to stitch it properly, but he managed expertly.
‘Don’t worry, Darling. I’ll be alright by tomorrow.’
Which he was. San’s demon blood helped him recover overnight. The shredded skin appeared to be knitting itself back together little by little, and no longer needed bandages. He never told you about the fight or what happened. He said it wasn’t important because he won. A soft smile went across your face thinking of how he spent that entire week at home with you. There’d been cuddling, kissing, talking, and soft, passionate sex. You felt entirely one with him in that moment.
“Just because it’s never said out loud doesn’t mean it’s not there, Mistress,” said Jongho. His body heat transferred to you as he stood behind you. Goosebumps went down your arms and up your neck when he touches your lower back. Middle knuckle tracing up your spine, he dragged it lazily up and down as he spoke. “I know I’d do anything you asked of me.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve come to realize how special you are. You’re bold, confident, ambitious and clever. You aren't afraid to be yourself,” he said, “And you don't stand down when someone insults you. Yeosang insults everyone, and they'd take it because of who he is. But, not you. You fought a grandson of Satan, Prince of Wrath, and while you didn't win, you still did it.”
“We ended up fucking then too.”
“It's in your nature, like I said.”
You turned around to face him. Close up, you found Jongho more fascinating. His eyes, dark brown, had the typical red ring around the iris. They carried the same gentleness he showed whenever he saw you. Jongho quickly became the only person you really talked to anymore. Anything you told him stayed between the both of you. He became your friend, your assistant and confidant. Pushing a piece of his hair from his face, you took in his handsomeness. The Masters and the other servants had the conventional attractiveness of demons: lean bodies, sharp jawlines, sultry eyes and smirking lips. He had one of his own. Like a bear, he came across as cute and soft. You knew if you took off his clothes, you'd find him just as fit as the others. Hands sliding up to his shoulders, you felt the muscles rise and fall in a deep breath. In his shirt, you could feel his muscles much easier than in his uniform. Reaching his shoulders, you gave them a tender squeeze.
“Does that mean it's in your nature too?” you asked, sultry and flirty.
“At times,” he answered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hands on your lower back. The touch warmed your body considerably. “I believe all demons, regardless of classification or status, carry lust inside them. I know,” he kept one hand behind you as the other slowly reached up your body, “That I've had trouble resisting my own instincts lately.”
“How could that be, Jongho?” you asked, gasping softly when he cupped your breast. He kneaded it gently, thumb brushing where your nipple might be. “You're always so strong.”
“You weaken me, Mistress,” he breathed, eyes focused on the tit in his hand. The touch brought back the tingling sensation. “Being around you constantly challenges my resolve. I get to bathe you. I see you naked regularly. I get to see you be fucked relentlessly by my masters. All the blood in my veins rushes to my dick when I watch you in peepholes. I stand there behind that one painting, leaking all over my hand. I kept wishing it was your pussy instead. You drive me insane, and I suffer through it constantly.”
“These hands, you mean?” You covered both his hands with yours. He moaned, feeling your hands guide him over your breasts. “The ones right here?”
“Yes, Mistress.” He gently pushed you against the shelf, trapping you between him and the plants.
“How often?”
“Too often.”
“What do you like seeing the most, hm?” you flicked his lips, letting his taste the intoxicating saliva on it. “Me getting fucked from behind? On my back? On my side? Riding their dicks? Which one?”
“I like watching them tongue your pussy,” he said, trembling from the hard nipples pushing into his hands. “Your pussy is…”
“Pretty?”
“Yes, especially when soaking wet. I just want to eat it all day, even if my jaw gets locked up. I love seeing you wriggle around when they do it. You always look so needy and begging for more. You claw the sheets,” he shuddered at the mental image, “And arch into their face.’
“I just love it so much,” you said, putting one of his fingers in your mouth. He looked up to watch you suck the digit softly. “I love it most when they finger me while they do it.” You moved even closer, toying your tits with one hand while you sucked another finger, “Or when I'm giving one of them a blowjob. You know how much I love sucking dick, particularly big, long, thick demon dick.” You finally touched the tent forming in his pants, smiling when he whimpered. Lifting his head by the chin, you made eye contact as he said, “And I’d love to suck yours.”
“Mi-M-Mistress?”
“I remember all your little whimpering and moaning when you jerked off in front of me,” you told him, feeling him through the denim. “It looked so tasty, I drooled from looking at it. I want to be the one making you whimper like that. Could you do it for me again?”
“Ye-yes,” he nodded hurriedly. “For as long as my Lady wishes.”
“Then let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” you said, lips centimeters from his before they touched.
Jongho involuntarily squeezed both your breasts as you locked lips. Lips caressing each other softly, you started unbuttoning his shirt before you appeared in your bedroom. Once the expanse of smooth, warm tawny skin became exposed, your hands smoothed right over it. Nipples already hard, you rubbed them with the sides of your thumbs. Jongho gave a short huff as the touch sparked his aroused further. You both only broke away only to remove your shirts, coming back together so your skin touched skin. Kissing him, you kept him close as you kissed. You noticed a certain type of hunger taking over the longer your tongues explored each other. The lascivious toxin in your spit mixed with his, and you knew the effect it’d have on him. He seemed to get harder, hungrier and needier. The kiss appeared to weaken Jongho, who let you slide off his jeans and underwear together. His cock free of its confines, your mouth drooled seeing the throbbing muscle. Having him fully nude, you guided him over to your bed. Lust filled his dark eyes, and he looked nowhere except at you.
Climbing on top of him, your center grinded your clothed sex to his bare crotch. You placed his hands over his head towards the board where your vines wrapped themselves around his wrists. Jongho did not pull against the restraint. If anything, it caused him to push up against you. Kissing down his neck, you left small bites and hickeys that marked his tender flesh before you reached one nipple. Jongho whimpered loudest as you licked around one nipple, so you did the same to the other. Your teasing strengthened the feeling between your legs as well. You didn’t mind being the submissive one, but the change felt nice. Jongho sounded so sweet whining underneath you, eyes closing as he relished in the pleasure you created. Leaving his nipples, you pecked down his front to the tip laying on his lower stomach.
One thin vine slid over to where you knelt, and you saw the yellow-green creeper wrap around the base of his dick and balls. The natural cockring brought on new sensations that Jongho bucked into for friction. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, kissing the inner areas to leave more small marks on them. Having you so close yet so far from his dick made it twitch on his stomach. You kissed right up to the underside of his hilt. Jongho sighed when your tongue only slid between the bottom and halfway to the shaft repeatedly. His fists clenched in his restraint, not fighting it even if his body craved more. Each time you licked upwards, you drew closer to the thick, leaking tip. It was when you cupped his balls that Jongho grew louder.
“Mistress,” he breathed, eyes closed, “Please…”
“Hm?” You started swishing your tongue over the backside of the tip.
“Please…suck on it…Please…”
“We’ll get there soon,” you promised between licks.
Swirling your tongue over the most sensitive part, you began lightly stroking him. Squeezing it gently, you moved your tongue from back to front, sliding over the slit on top to taste a bead of precum. Then, you continued only sucking the very tip while you moved your hand up and down. Jongho kept watching you through heavy lidded eyes, lips parted in every moan and whimper as you teased him. Every lick across his head had him quivering. Watching him slowly unravel before you became amusing. Using your spit to coat him, you watched your hand gradually work him. The muscle pulsed in your grasp, somehow getting harder than before. You spat on it again to see it shine in the sunlight, before taking the whole head in your mouth.
This rush of relief had Jongho writhing into the soft blankets and moss. You couldn’t get over the feeling of him dripping on your tongue. The salty drops smeared over your tongue and cheeks, and you swallowed each one. As you went further down, you tasted the smooth skin and felt each vein cross over your lips. The vines restricting his length kept him from cumming while you reached the end of his cock at last. Inside your throat, Jongho let out an uncontrollable series of moans. You let him hear you gag on him, constricting your airway each time and creating more drool to wet him with. You let him push into your face once you buried him in your throat, unable to stop himself with your hand on his balls.
“You really are so well behaved,” you croaked, spitting on his dick before licking it back up, “Letting your mistress do whatever she likes with your lovely cock. I can stay down here forever,” you sucked him further, throating him once more to hear him moan. It was when you moved hand and mouth together that he began quivering. “Mmm,” you licked up the string of precum coming down the sides, “Does my little toy want to cum?”
“Yes,” he moaned, “Yes, I do, Mistress.”
“Are you going to?”
“Only i-i-if you wish.”
“Hm, I don’t think so just yet,” you said, “I’m not done playing.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
You maneuvered yourself to face him in reverse, your sex inches from his face and continued sucking him slowly. Tiny bouts of relief came once his hot tongue slid around your aching clit. His thick cock muffled any moans it brought out, which gave a vibrating sensation Jongho loved. Unable to touch you, Jongho could only trace the folds around your pussy before sucking that hard numb. You wiggled your hips over his face, soaked pussy smearing over mouth, chin and cheeks as you did it. The light brushes drove you crazy, needing him to make you cum. You moaned loudest when he captured your clit in his mouth again and quickly swirled his tongue around it. His tongue teased out the orgasm sitting inside you little by little, not focusing on anything else than your tingling nub. Sensing your enjoyment, Jongho continued the same speed and pattern until you finally came. Even as you trembled and shook, your muscles constricting, Jongho kept going.
“Such a good…good boy,” you cried out, not stopping him as he attacked your sensitive sex. “Keep going like that,” you spat and continued jerking at him, “Make me cum again. Make your mistress cum again.”
This time, his tongue slid deep into your sex. You bounced and rocked against the appendage wriggling inside you. Jongho’s mouth had you seeing stars as he tongue fucked you.
“Don’t stop licking, Jongho,” you said, enjoying the overstimulation his tongue made, “Don’t stop.”
Jongho whimpered into your center as you sensed his orgasm approaching. You quickened the pace with your hand, counting down the seconds in your head. His toes curled inwards and his thighs shook as it came closer and closer to the edge. Right when you sensed him there, you pulled away. A muffled ‘Mistress’ came from behind you and you cackled.
“I told you I wanted to play with it,” you said innocently, sliding off him to let him breathe and come down from the edge. Kissing his wet lips, you licked up whatever juices escaped him before sliding your tongue into his mouth. “It’s so much fun.”
Laying on top of him between his legs, you squeezed his dick with your thighs. His thick shaft brushed across your drenched sex in steady, measured thrusts that drove you wild. Fingers rolling his nipples, you smiled as he haphazardly rocked his hips into you. Jongho’s heavy breaths came out with whimpering moans. You never thought you’d see your bear so frantic for a release. It brought a sense of pride to see him like a putty in your hands. You became used to submitting to your partners, since you enjoyed that more, but this felt good. For once, you are in control.
Feeling him shivering once more, you forced yourself to spread your legs apart. Jongho cried, thrashing from the slight pain of being edged once again. When he started coming back down, you lightly grinded against him. Your pussy aching to have him inside, you knew dominants didn’t particularly give into their own desires. They took pleasure from withholding from their submissive. Yet, you craved to have him deep inside you. Everytime he brushes over your entrance, you feel tempted to ride him.
‘Then ride him, Mistress.’
Octavius. His deep, raspy voice sounded in your head like your own thoughts. You glanced up to the peonies around your bed. Your carnivorous, licentious friend had eyes and ears anywhere flowers grew. You wondered if you could do the same.
The vines around Jongho’s wrists slid away, and your servant immediately grabbed your hips to angle you properly. You didn’t stop him as he filled you completely. Hands on either side of him, you steadily moved up and down on him. His cock throbbed against your walls, passing over ridges and bumps within you. Once you started, you did not want to stop. Jongho knew this, and began meeting you in the middle. He only ever came an inch or two out of you every time, and the tip pushing your g-spot made you see stars. Knowing your plant-friends watched nearby made you eager to keep going. Some of them, you knew, needed more than water and sunlight.
“Mistress,” Jongho breathed, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, “You feel so good. Please, don’t stop,” he began pushing into you harder and faster, “Don’t make me stop. I want to make you cum. I want to please you.”
“Is that so?” you asked, whirling your hips to move him around inside you. “You wish to please me?”
“Yes,” he whimpered. “Let me make you cum again.”
“Then go ahead,” you whispered in his ear, trying your best not to completely lose it on top of him.
Jongho flipped you onto your back right away. Putting your legs on his shoulders, your servant pumped his cock into you at a deep angle. The perfect angle, if you were honest. Balls smacking your ass, hands palming your tits and nipples, he brought you in for another kiss as he fucked you. Soon enough, your third orgasm crawled towards your center again. It became more sensitive in every thrust. His touches on your nipples, his lips and tongue on your mouth, you broke away when it finally hit you. Something wet squirted onto his balls as he kept going; you could feel that taut feeling erupting again in every cry. You thought you might go insane from his cock. The mere feeling of it stretching and filling you elongated your climax. By the time you finished, Jongho had pinned you down.
“Mistress,” he breathed, “Mistress, Mistress….Can I cum now? Please, please,” he pleaded through gritted teeth, whining as your pussy gripped him.
“Yes,” you replied, rubbing your clit to produce another orgasm. You knew your plants wanted more of it. They needed as much as they could get. “I want you to cum on me. Cum all over me, now.”
Jongho withdrew from you and violently jerked his wet dick. A couple of pumps later, Jongho’s hot cum shot over your stomach and breasts. You watched his entire body clench and shake as he came, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth open. When the last few drops fell onto your sex, you pulled him closer to kiss him again. You wanted him to stay hard just a bit longer. On your mossy bed, you rolled onto your stomach and grinded into his dick. Apparently, your butler wasn’t fazed by how he hadn’t grown soft. He didn’t question or object. He almost seemed incapable of comprehending what was happening. Perhaps your kisses can be dangerous to a person’s sanity.
You giggled as Jongho plunged back into you.
***
A/N: Talk about some big changes in this house. Is YN truly loved or simply lusted over and coveted? That remains to be seen. At least she's got her big bear <3 please like and reblog <3
#pirateeznet#ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez smut#choi jongho#jongho x reader#jongho x you#jongho ateez#ateez jongho#jongho smut
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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 008 ]
“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”
c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. unedited.
notes. thank you to everyone who waited patiently, i hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 this will be the beginning of kiyoomi arc!
wc. 11k
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[ EIGHT ] all they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride – the only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife
The Kingdom of Inarizaki was at a loss whether to celebrate the early return of the latest married couple from their honeymoon. The couple seemed to be doing great – according to the tabloids, anyway. When they arrived, the Princes and their wives waved to the people, all eager for a glimpse of the infamous couple who had married for love. For two years, society had their eyes on you – the shy, reserved noblewoman who caught the eye and heart of their one and only Crown Prince Suna Rintaro. And oh, what a wedding it was, broadcasted all over the world and celebrated like a holiday.
What the world didn’t know was that it was an entirely different story behind the Palace walls.
You may share a bedroom, but never the bed. You’d been acquainted with the couch for the next few nights, only seeing your husband once in the mornings before he left to do his duties, and every now and then when the Queen wanted to have dinner. Not that you were complaining – the space was most appreciated. Without Suna lingering, there’d be less reminders of how much of a fool he took you. A naïve, young woman who really deluded herself into believing a Prince could want her. Although…
Suna didn’t not want you, either.
In the few spaces in between, he would look for you. He would make small talk and ask if you’ve eaten. If you liked breakfast, which was a silly question, since it was always tea and waffles. If you enjoyed yourself while he was away, this, again, was a silly question. You spent the mind–numbing hours blaming yourself for being in this predicament. That, perhaps, if you had just been brave to walk away that night you found out the truth, then you wouldn’t be out here wondering if the maids’ whispers were true – that Suna spent most of his nights at Belleview Manor, because quote unquote, “he was unwelcome in his own quarters.”
As if somehow it was your fault he did not feel comfortable to sleep under the same roof with you.
Sighing, you flipped your novel closed. No one had given you official duties yet, other than the blatantly obvious one of giving the Crown Prince an heir. ‘They will have such sleepless nights!’, the Queen’s goons crooned. ‘So young and virile, they are, we’ll have a new Crown Prince in no time!’ Oh, if only it were that easy. If there were to be a Prince, Iris would most likely be the mother, considering he saw her more often than you did. And how funny of a thought that was – you wanted distance from him, yet something died inside you little by little the colder your room got.
“Since we have returned, my schedule will be full.”
You glanced up from where you sat. Suna had sauntered back into the room, his tie loosened; hair messed up like he ran his fingers through it several times. Already, a servant stood beside him to comb his hair back neatly. You couldn’t help but stare. How long had it been since you combed his hair for him? You knew he hated it when they gelled it back. He preferred it messy and unkempt, saying his bedroom hair felt most natural. The bedroom hair he’s shown only to you in the quiet breaks of the night when he was in your bed.
The bedroom hair Iris had seen, as well.
Just the thought of it forces a smile on your face. Standing up, you brushed off the imaginary dust off your skirt. Less than a week in the Palace, and you were already so miserable. You could at least try to look less bothered by his unrequited affections.
“Do what you must.”
Once his hair had been brushed to perfection, Suna gestured for his servant to step away. The man politely bowed down before exiting the room. “I mean to say,” he continued, stepping closer now that there was no one else around. Your breath hitched the closer he got, but you dared not move, not even when his warm, familiar hand cups the curve of your cheek. “The meetings I must attend and people to deal with will take up most of my time.”
You knew what he was trying to say – that he wouldn’t be around, and you had to entertain yourself in his absence. Gently, you take a step back from his touch, watching as an unreadable expression crosses his face.
“And as I have said, do what you must. I have my own duties to fulfill as well.”
“You do not sound bothered by this.”
“Why should I be?” you shrugged, “If I am to be stuck with you for the rest of my life, surely I can enjoy what little time left I have for myself.”
Suna’s lips thinned. “You could act a little less eager to get rid of me.”
“On the contrary, I have no intention of leaving.”
“So I will see you tonight?”
“If we run into each other at the palace, yes, yes you will.”
If he seemed discontent with your half–hearted response, he did not show it. Must be the practiced regality and composure befitting for a Crown Prince like him – all lazy, yet wary, watching eyes. He, too, must know the true meaning behind your words. There was no need to pretend.
You both knew Suna would run into Belleview Manor as soon as the night ends, and his duties for the day had been tended to. Meanwhile, his wife would stay up all night in her couch.
Not quite waiting for him, but not quite imagining if he slept better at her side, either.
It was an unspoken deal between you two already. So he leaves without another word, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when the door finally slams shut.
Tears prick at your eyes for the umpteenth time. You were tired of this. Tired of not knowing where you truly were in his life – were you his wife, his friend? After you’d heard of his passion and dedication to Iris, you weren’t so evil to stop him from seeing her. He loved her first. And you of all people should know the pain of not having the one person you wanted most. To him, she was his unattainable treasure. She was already making him smile before you even came to his life. She was already offering companionship and the comfort he desperately needed in this tiresome world of politics and power. She was his solace in all this chaos.
And you… you were just his wife. And without a baby in your belly, you might as well be just another useless figure in the Palace.
You refused to be so.
You may be worthless to him as his wife, for you truly couldn’t have his heart, but you refused to be a worthless person. Deep down, you knew you weren’t. It was just the title of ‘Princess’ that made you feel incapable and short. Did that mean you weren’t meant to be Princess, then? Should you go back to your manor, learning how to handle the household and managing the family business like your parents taught?
If you were not for Suna, did that mean you were not for the Crown, as well?
You bit your lip in contemplation. There was only one person who could provide you a solution to this.
“It is not every day I am summoned by a Princess,” a smooth, deep voice filtered through the garden. Smiling, you stood up to greet the Third Prince. A curtsy, a bow, and soon you two were sipping tea – the momentary peace a guise of what was to come. Kita must have sensed it, too, his gaze flitting over your pinched face with understanding and patience. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Surely we are not here to discuss the pleasantries of your honeymoon.”
You grimaced. “Definitely not. There were no pleasantries to begin with.”
His face fell.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you… My apologies. I’m not sure how to proceed with this.”
Nodding, you set your tea town. You had a feeling he truly meant his apology, which felt good, seeing as most of the Princes had too much pride to know the word ‘sorry.’ But you hd always known that Prince Kita was unlike the other Princes – he had more honor, and a stronger sense of morality compared to his brothers. Maybe it was due to his being raised by his mother, who was a lawyer, and therefore was not so exposed to the greed and competition experienced by the other Princes.
Whatever it was, he was just different. And you could rely on him to be truthful, too.
“Have you always known about them?” you muttered, refusing to look at the Prince’s face in fear of being met with pity. That was the last thing you wanted – to be seen as the poor, unwanted wife. “Iris and Rintaro?”
“I have.”
“I see.”
Kita sighed. “Please don’t misunderstand, Princess. I never meant to keep it from you. None of us did – except for those truly involved. It was just… I grew up with them, too. Keiji and I were only a year ahead of Rintaro and Iris. When I heard the Crown Prince had become acquainted with a foreign royal scholar, we didn’t think too much of it. Her sudden marriage with Kiyoomi surprised us all, and none of us would’ve thought that her friendship with Rintaro would turn into something more.”
“You don’t need to explain all of this to me, Your Highness.”
“Perhaps, but…” reaching over the table, the Prince squeezed your knuckle. You chuckled, not having realized you’d balled up your hands into a fist. It turned out you couldn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, to act like you didn’t care how much it all hurt. “I do not want you to think I am not on your side.”
“You do not need to be on my side. He is your brother.”
“Blood means little to me when my own kind is cruel to others,” he retorted, looking offended you would suggest otherwise. “I have always been against it, Princess. I told him from the beginning that to covet one’s brother’s wife is one thing, but to involve someone else, all for his selfish reason of ascending a throne that was always rightfully his just seemed heartless.”
Heartless. Gods. To know that your husband was capable of being cruel was one thing, but to hear it coming from his own brother’s lips was another.
“But Rintaro is Rintaro. Of course he is stubborn.”
“Indeed, he is,” Prince Kita sighed in defeat, leaning back against his seat as he stroked his chin in thought. “Princess, while I cannot guarantee I can take all of your woes away, I want you to know you can trust me. If there is anything you need, let me know and I will do it for you. It’s the least I can do to make your stay here in the Palace tolerable.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I do, and I am a man of my word.”
“Then I suppose there’s no point beating around the bush,” you gritted your teeth, forcing the words to come out.
It had always been a lingering thought at the back of your mind – to leave Rintaro – but there was this prideful, equally stubborn voice at the back of your head telling you it was too early to give up. That you needed to fight. But what was there to fight for? It wasn’t like Rintaro would learn to love you. And neither do you plan on wooing him. So, instead, you swallowed up your pride and called for Kita, knowing he would never judge you for the choices you were about to make.
“I actually called for you today because I wish to discuss royal marital laws, possibly with your mother. She would know about it best.”
“You need legal counsel,” he caught on, and you nod, “I can arrange that. I assume you want it discreetly, too. That is no problem at all. But if I may be bold, I wish to ask something from you in return.”
“Name your price.”
“It is about this maid that I am fond of. Airi,” her name came out breathily from his mouth, almost like a whisper. You noticed the Prince glancing around the empty garden almost warily, though you already took measures to ensure no one would be around to witness this conversation. Reassured, Kita sat up straighter and looked you in the eye, nothing but sincerity and determination in his expression. “I will do anything you ask of me, as long as it is within legal reasons, if you take her in as your personal maid.”
“I’ve heard rumors about you having affections for a maid in your quarters,” you mumbled, feeling almost sorry for the kind–hearted Prince. It seemed he, too, did not escape the heartbreaking torment for falling for a person you could never have. “So it is true, after all.”
“It is. You seem surprised about it. Is it so shocking to learn of a Prince having genuine feelings for another?”
You shook your head. “Not at all. I think I should know best that passion is something you brothers certainly have,” you snort, and Kita fights back a grin. “Very well, then. I will take care of your lovely maid, although I do wish to know – why are you assigning her to me? Have you… done anything to stain her honor?”
The color seeped out of the Prince’s face.
“I would never do such a thing.”
“I figured you wouldn’t.”
Kita’s shoulders squared before he exhaled. “Airi is… Ever since I set my sights on her, she has been in danger. People have been very unkind towards her, especially with the staff in my quarters. And as much as I would love having her by my side in my every waking hour, it would break my heart to know that she is being looked down upon simply because I admire her. But I figure with her at your side, with a new assignment, she will have some peace.”
Your heart ached for him. You could tell this was not an easy decision to make, but a necessary one if he wanted to ensure his lover’s well-being.
“You can still see her, Your Highness. It’s not like I will take her away from you.”
“I wouldn’t let you, either, but these are very difficult times for everyone in the Palace. The security of the throne weakens every day. The Parliament is restless, and there is only so little I can do with all these failed unions,” he rattled on, eyes widening when he realized it too late. Bowing his head, the Prince’s brows furrowed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to–”
“Our marriage is not a failed union. Not yet. I will make certain it will not be a failure.”
It couldn’t be a failure. There was only one way out of this dreadful marriage, and as much as you hated it, that exit only existed in a path where you had no choice but to let him be a great King. This is why you need Kita’s mother’s counsel. Surely there could be a loophole in the clause that would invalidate the marriage. But until that opportunity presents itself, you were stuck here in this Castle, surrounded by everyone but your husband.
You had to make it work.
“With all due respect, Princess,” sighs the Prince, looking more remorseful than irritated. “Why is it that you try so hard? You do not need to stay with him, you know. It may be against the law for royal marriages to be annulled, but surely we can find a way. You do not need to torture yourself by spending one more day with your husband.”
“I know that.”
“Then why do you stay?”
“Because,” you croaked out, feeling a lump grow in your throat. “Because loving him is all I had known, and perhaps it is time I learn to despise him, as well.”
Silence stretches. The prince sat there, unmoving, as your words hang in the thick air between you two. You knew he would understand; he wouldn’t judge. But there is still concern in his handsome features that made you realize how pitiful you really are. And maybe there was no one else to blame but yourself, because you were foolish, and in love. But you were trying – by the Gods, you really were doing your best – to just be in love and not have to be foolish anymore.
Kita could see this as well. Your strength, your grit. He could see everything from where he sat, and that was why he simply nodded. “Are you getting there yet?”
“I will get there someday.”
Before the Prince could say anything else, a servant appeared from the bushes. He looked sheepish upon the intrusion, an apologetic smile on his face directed to the Prince. “Your Highness. It is time for your lessons.”
The Prince sent you a knowing look. This was not to be the last time you see each other, and you smiled up at him, grateful. It felt good to have at least one person you could lean on in the Palace. You stood up, too, shaking his hand just as his servant excused himself. If your memory did not fail you, the Third Prince studied law outside of the Palace and had to attend university, unlike his brothers who had chosen to indulge in their promised wealth after graduating high school.
“Excuse me, Your Highness. I have matters to attend to, but my words still ring true – I am only a call away should you need me.”
“Thank you so much for your time, my Prince.”
“It was my pleasure. I will inform you right away of my mother’s availability.”
“Oh, and Princess,” piped up the servant from somewhere around the bushes, “Princess Maiko is looking for you. She is waiting for you in her drawing room.”
You should’ve expected that Princess Maiko would come looking for you. The whole ordeal she witnessed back at your rest house must have come as a shock for her. Sure, her marriage didn’t go so well, either, but at least Tooru hadn’t gone around sleeping with someone else. For a man who didn’t want to get married, he kept to his vow of loyalty to his wife. Still, you didn’t want this to be a competition on who had it worse – Maiko was simply worried, and you had to explain yourself for your untoward behavior on everyone’s getaway.
“Princess! Oh my gosh – how are you?! I was worried sick!”
“Princess,” you return her hug, smiling despite the fact the smaller Princess had a bone–crushing grip. “Thank you for your concern, but I assure you, I am well.”
“Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be,” she pulled back with tears in her eyes. You almost apologized on the spot now that you remembered demanding to return to the City without informing the others why. Especially not Maiko, who seemed to be clueless. “I… I heard from Tooru about everything. The entire situation with Iris and the Crown Prince – truly, I did not know a single thing. If I had, I would have told you right away.”
“I know, and I’m thankful for your support.”
You squeeze her hand in reassurance, and the Princess leads you to sit on the couch. She slumps on it rather ungracefully, her innocent, wide eyes moist as she shakes her head.
“I had no idea Iris could do that. I just… the moment she arrived in the palace, she was so lovely, you know? She was always a little reserved, and liked to keep to herself, but I never would’ve guessed. I truly thought she was a good friend of mine, and now I have no idea who she really is.”
“Neither did I.”
“How are you, though? And please, tell me the truth. You do not need to pretend all is well.”
You shrug half-heartedly. “I am the Crown Prince’s wife. I must learn to be strong.”
“You mustn’t torture yourself any longer,” she licks her lips, chuckling without a trace of humor in it. “Although I do not blame you for staying in a marriage without love,” she smiled sadly, holding your hand firmer where it sat on her lap. “What do you plan to do?”
“I will divorce him,” you announced, and finally saying it loud felt different than just having the thought float in your head. It now felt like a reality. A choice you had to be firm in making. Licking your lips, you couldn’t help but glance at the beautiful wedding ring sitting on your finger – how just like your marriage, it is sparkling yet meaningless.
Leaving him would be the right choice. It would not mean you were weak.
“Once I meet with Kita’s mother and work our way around the law… I’m going to leave him. If it is a proper marriage he wants, then it is the one thing he will not get,” braving to look her in the eyes, you force a determined smile. “I believe it is the right thing to do, Your Highness. I must pick my battles wisely.”
“I understand, and I support you if this is what you want to do.”
“Thank you, Princess.”
“Although…”
“Although?”
“I still find it hard to believe,” she quipped, momentarily letting go of your hand as she stood up, pacing around the room. Her dark hair, neatly braided and adorned with headpieces, slowly started falling into curled pieces around her delicate face with how fast she’d been pacing. Almost as if her feet couldn’t quite keep up with her thoughts. “Iris and Kiyoomi had been married for five years, and Tooru told me they’d loved each other long before then. I am aware I am not the best at reading the room, but surely I am not so foolish to miss the love in their eyes. I would have known, Your Highness, I swear.”
You smile, confused. “I… am not sure I understand what you mean.”
“I mean Iris never looked in love,” she reiterated. “Granted, she was never affectionate with Kiyoomi, so that much is clear, but with the Crown Prince? They barely even speak to each other.”
“You couldn’t have known if they did spend time together,” you told her as softly as you could, “I heard they often hid in Belleview Manor, away from the eyes of the public.”
“But I live here,” she argued, and you stopped trying to butt in. For such a small thing, you had already learned once Maiko had her head set on something, almost nothing could stop her. “I live in Honor Hall, just five minutes away from them! I could have heard something. And on the few times I do see them together, Iris had always seemed… walled off. If Rintaro was able to display his affections openly, Iris was not the same. That night you weren’t at the house, they did not seem like a happy couple to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Maiko shook her head again, causing more curls to loosen. “They seemed familiar with each other, but not intimate. It was almost as if they were lovers purely in the bedroom, but they couldn’t have known each other’s heart,” her eyes lit up, before it dimmed again when she took in your somber expression. “I do not mean to give you false hope, Princess, but believe me. I know a man in love when I see one, and it is not the Crown Prince with Iris. But… but when you were not married yet, everyone could tell the Crown Prince smiled more. He laughed often, too, and he even spent more time with his brothers.”
“Well, that is only natural. He has a lot of siblings. Of course he would enjoy their company.”
“No, no, you do not understand, Princess. The Crown Prince… didn’t grow up that way,” she bit her lip, and then scooted next to you. “As the only son of the King and Queen, he was already more important than the rest. Because of that, he was raised differently – away and isolated from his brothers. He was always tutored alone, and never played with the other Princes. He spent his childhood locked up in his study, but then the Queen allowed him to attend regular school, and when he graduated… he met you. And I swear, he was different then.”
“Because he already met her,” you remarked, hoping she would stop already. Rintaro does not love you. “He’d become happier because Iris was already in his life.”
“I went to the same school with them; grew up with them. I had crushed on Prince Tooru for so long that I followed wherever he went, and where Tooru was, the Crown Prince would follow. They were born just months apart. And Iris never made the Crown Prince look… look…”
“Look what?”
“Look content,” she finally supplied. “But when the Crown Prince introduced you to us, he had this look on his face. When you spoke to others, he would always be looking at you, listening to your every word. Even when you were not in the same room, he would speak fondly of you. And he even once told me he still could not believe someone as precious as you had been attending the same lousy balls he’d been enduring all his life. He said that if he had met you earlier, he might have never skipped out attending the dances.”
“I don’t know,” your lips trembled, “I do not know what to do, Princess. Hearing of this does not make it any better.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but you must understand,” she squeezed your hand, desperation evident in her tone. “Your husband looks at you the way I wished mine would at me. He may say otherwise, but his eyes cannot lie. He softens when you are around, Princess. That night you did not return home at Greenville, the Crown Prince could not sleep at all. And these past few days…”
“I believe that is enough. I do not wish to hear how he spent his nights at Belleview.”
“He didn’t, Your Highness. The Crown Prince has never even spoken to Iris ever since we returned from your honeymoon.”
Rintaro could count the number of things pissing him off with one hand.
One: You had barely acknowledged his existence the past few days.
Two: Iris wouldn’t stop pulling him into dark, secluded corners in the Castle each time she chanced upon him. Two-point-five: She couldn’t understand he was not in the mood for another one of their trysts.
Three: Kiyoomi skipped another meeting concerning Itachiyama again.
Seriously, Rintaro understood being a Prince was tiresome work. It was not as grandiose as the tabloids made it out to be. Even in his sleep, he sometimes dreamt of paperwork, or he would wake up in the middle of the night with his hands signing off imaginary papers. The pressure was tougher on Kiyoomi, too, because he was expected to be ready to take after Wakatoshi at any time he even faltered – note: the First Prince never did – and to also act as representative for the other territory thanks to his birthright. But his brother was an hermit, and seemed to fear the sunlight, considering he never left his quarters. Or on the rare occasions he did, he would be hiding away in other countries doing who knows what.
He had just finished a meeting with some of the territory leaders regarding a public complaint that the price of goods had gone up, and some daily necessities were now ridiculously overpriced. One of the main suppliers of good livestock and coconuts, Itachiyama, made it even more expensive – not for any good reason, just that their leader loved to remind Inarizaki constantly that they needed him more than he needed the monarchy.
His goading affected his people, and Rintaro has had enough. Kiyoomi could at least try to pretend to be interested in the meetings. Out of all the nine princes, Kiyoomi was the most influential for being a half-blood. The Itachiyama president adored him. He wouldn’t have had to struggle negotiating for prices had he been doing his work. He was the damned mediator between the two countries, for goodness’ sake!
And to make it all worse, his life did not get any better outside the meeting rooms.
No, because his wife was intent on acting like he did not exist. And on the few times he did manage to be in the same space as you without you running off, you always looked through him. Like he wasn’t even a real person. As if he was just an apparition, a ghost in your mind that you could overlook if you tried hard enough.
He already knew you wouldn’t be in your quarters once he returned, but Rintaro still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment washing over him. He chose you to be his future Queen for many reasons, one of them being your wisdom in these kinds of things. You just needed a little encouragement to speak up, but Rintaro was confident you would make a great leader. You had genuine care for your people. You would have been able to help him make the best decisions for everybody – if you would just listen to him. Wasn’t that how marriages work? To share the burden of the Crown together? The Crown was too heavy for one person alone, which is why Kings cannot be crowned without their Queens.
Rintaro couldn’t do it alone. Each day was becoming more challenging for him, and he so desperately wished he could discuss the country’s future with you. He would feel more confident in his choices. He would be more reassured that he was doing the right thing, but it seemed that all he knew how to do lately was fuck everything up.
On his way back, Rintaro stopped trying to look regal. He let his shoulders slump and ran his fingers through his hair again. The gel be damned. Loosening his tie, he rolled his shoulders back and winced at how stiff his back was. Sitting on his ass all day long, having to listen to old men argue back and forth over money, and simultaneously having to deal with a marriage he’d already screwed over – Rintaro just wanted to disappear.
He wanted to return to Greenville.
It was peaceful there. People minded their own business, everyone had their own purpose and reason for waking up each day and there, he could just be himself. Not the Crown Prince, not a young man who had to hurt you for the sake of the throne. He could just… be free.
“Your Highness,” a servant bowed in front of him, keeping a respectful distance but enough to let him know he needed his attention.
“Good evening,” he greeted back, “Have you seen my wife?”
“Her Highness was with Princess Maiko this morning. Last I heard, she has not left the Palace, at all.”
“I see,” Rintaro was already moving towards Honor Hall before his feet could register it. It was a good twenty minute walk, and the chances of running into Iris weren’t miniscule, but it would be worth it. He could use some fresh air, anyway. And he figured with Maiko around, you would be less opposed to spending the evening with him – until he realized Maiko must have known everything, too. How he manipulated you, and left you in the middle of nowhere.
On second thought, having two Princesses who clearly did not welcome him would not make for a great night.
“My Prince!”
Rintaro stopped on his tracks. He had a split second to school his expression to surprise – the good kind – when he came face to face with the last woman he wanted to see.
“Mother,” he greeted, taking her gloved hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles whilst she fanned herself. “I wasn’t informed you would be visiting.”
She waved her fan around. “Oh, I had to nearly knock down the guards when they wouldn’t let me in, but I had to see my daughter. I heard from the news that you came home too early. Well, what is wrong? Is she sick? Does she not like the countryside? Or perhaps there was an emergency you had to attend to?” fanning herself harder, Rintaro’s hand wound at the small of her back to guide the older woman into a nearby seat. “She hasn’t answered any of my calls, and I am worried, my son.”
“Your concern for her will put her at ease, I’m certain,” he reassured, swallowing the uncomfortable lump growing in his throat. “This is just… a difficult time for us, Mother. I fear Her Highness is having doubts about our marriage once she saw how overwhelming the Crown could be. She simply wished to return home because she felt there were things to be done here.”
Your mother sighed and shook her head. “My poor daughter. She always felt the need to prove her worth by working herself to death,” spinning to face him, she pointed her fan in his direction – which would be considered a threat to the Crown Prince, but she was his mother–in–law. Her presence itself was a threat to his life. “Promise me you won’t let her exhaust herself, son. Promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“She is in good hands, Mother, I promise you this.”
Pleased with him, your mother beamed. “I was also… Well, I may be crossing the line, but now that you tell me my poor daughter is anxious about her royal duties, I was planning to hold a ball in her honor. A welcoming ball for the new Princess, of sorts. It should help her integrate into your world better, but still with the comfort of our support.”
“A ball sounds lovely. We can hold it anytime as we are still in our honeymoon period and she will be free for quite some time.”
“That is perfect! I will make the arrangements, then.”
Wearing his best Prince Charming smile, even if he was anything but, Rintaro found himself mindlessly agreeing to everything your mother wanted. He would have to squeeze all these events in his already hectic schedule, but he was not complaining. She was right. You deserved to relax and enjoy yourself. He should know best that having royal titles did not promise a life of gallivanting and endless tea parties. Once your mother had exhausted herself from all the planning, Rintaro escorted her out to the palace entrance, stopping only when your figure appeared from the corner.
Finally, you were looking at him.
But with a glare.
Well, he supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“You are a far better actor than I give you credit for – lying to my mother like that.”
“I did not mean to.”
You rolled your eyes, and Rintaro bit his lip. Cute, he thought, but he would never say it out loud. He would simply enjoy the fact you did not push him away, or walk away as if you were scalded when he started walking next to you. For a moment, everything almost seemed normal. Minus the extreme glaring, of course.
“Surely. It’s not like telling her you manipulated me for the past two years was on your to-do list.”
“Do not use that tone on me.”
“I will speak with you however I wish. You do not get to tell me what to do.”
“You are right; I cannot tell you what to do, so do as you please, then,” he surrendered, and you must be surprised by how he easily gave in from the way you froze. Glaring harder, Rintaro bit his cheek, tilting his head to the side as he gazed upon your pretty face. And oh, how badly he wanted to smooth that frown you’re wearing. “I missed you. I have not seen you all day long.”
“Must have been a lovely day for you, then.”
It was hell, actually, was what he wanted to say, but even that did not seem enough to articulate what he truly felt. I missed you, and I’m sorry I hurt you. Please sleep on the same bed with me again. I want to hold you all night long, and your scent calms me. But instead, all that comes out of his mouth was, “It was not lovely at all.”
“Hmm. I’m not Iris.”
“No, you aren’t.”
He agreed wholeheartedly – you were not his lover. Iris would not argue with him like this; in fact, they never argued at all. Whenever they had misunderstandings, they resolved it by taking out their frustrations on the bedroom, and the next day, all would be forgiven and forgotten. It was easier with Iris, in some ways, because with you he actually had to use his words, and he had to say the right ones. Both of which he wasn’t good at, but would try his very best anyway.
“I heard you spent the day with Maiko. How was it? Did you two have fun?”
“As fun as two women suffering at the hands of men who despise them could have.”
Rintaro took a larger step to stand in front of you, his eyes narrowed into slits. “I do not despise you.”
“Really? You made me feel otherwise.”
Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair again, feeling much more exhausted than he did after the meetings ended. “You do not have to make this so difficult, you know. I am trying to fix this.”
The laugh you let out is sardonic, teetering on the edges of borderline angry. But he would take it – because arguments with you were better than having you ignore him, and he would take a thousand more arguments if it meant you talked. He would consume your wrath over your coldness every other day. Even when you cross your arms and look at him like he was the most vile creature to ever walk the Earth – because your eyes are on him, and in that moment, in the middle of another of a hundred hallways in his Palace, there was no one else but you and him. A husband and his wife. A Prince and his Princess.
“Oh, are you now? Because last time I checked, you were still in love with someone else, and I’m still nothing but a pawn in your silly game.”
“I may be in love with someone else, but it was you who I couldn’t get off my mind.”
“Is that supposed to make my heart flutter?”
You reel back as if burnt, and Rintarou couldn’t fathom why your expression hurt him so much. As if his declaration, his vulnerability, of being putty in your hands repulsed you instead of excited you. However, he refused to show he hung desperately to your every word, refused to admit that you held all the power in your hands, not him. So, he plays it off, and flirtingly lifts a brow just to get you even more riled up.
“I was hoping it would.”
“Whatever it is you’re planning, Rintaro, you won’t win.”
His eyes darkened. Suddenly, all self-restraint he previously had had been thrown out the window. The urge to press his lips to you – yes, those same lips scowling at him – becomes all too consuming. He fools himself into taking the heat in your eyes as desire instead of anger. And he takes one step forward, two, then three, until your back hits the wall and his large frame prevents you from escaping. He liked you best here, he realized, under his mercy and staring up at him with your soft lips, pliant and open to release a gasp when he leans in. Closer, closer, only for his lips to meet the skin of your cheek.
Rintaro stifled a disappointed groan.
Masking it with a chuckle, he trailed his lips down your cheek and to your jawline, all the way until he’s inhaling your intoxicating scent – he wants your damned perfume to stick to his skin for days to come so everyone in the Palace knows he is yours. And like a flower, you bloom only to him. Craning your neck and pushing your chest upwards to his despite your resistance, breathing hard and heavy to let him know he wasn’t the only one affected by this.
And by the Gods, he wanted nothing more than to take you in this wall right here and then.
Brushing his lips just above your pulse point, Rintaro smiled. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and he was certain his was, too, when you began to crumple his shirt in your hands. “I never knew my name could sound so important without the titles attached to it.”
“Wh–what?” your query came out breathily. Not that he could blame you, for his words have also begun to sound more like a whisper.
“Rintaro,” he echoed, nosing your neck to greedily take in more of your scent. If not on his skin, then he will settle for the evidence of you all over his clothes – and damned the servants who dared wash his dress shirt. “Not Prince, not Your Highness. Just Rintaro. It makes me feel like… it is just you and I, husband and wife, as simple as that,” you draw in another gasp just as his fingers start ghosting over your waist, fighting the urge to pin you in place, or to just hold you delicately because he knew he’d broken you enough. Rintaro felt weak, his head dropping in the column of your shoulder. “I truly did miss you. And I do not like how I spent many nights, in our bed, alone.”
“You do not deserve to share a bed with me.”
“I know,” he lamented, and that firm resolve of keeping him at a distance was enough to wake him up. Pushing himself off of you, Rintaro took a solid minute to admire you like this – lips parted, expectant for a kiss, and skin flushed with a thin layer of sweat, with eyes so bewildered he could see himself clearly in the reflection – that he was just a man now, and not really the husband you wanted him to be. Once he had his fill, Rintaro smoothed down the wrinkles you fisted in his shirt and took a step back. “But you do not deserve to sleep in just a couch. Take the bed tonight. I will sleep outside.”
“But that’s–”
“I’m the one who fucked up,” he smirked, sarcasm dripping from his face, “So I should be the one sleeping uncomfortably. I know I cannot tell you what to do, and neither do I plan on ordering you around, but this is the one thing you cannot argue with me on. You will take the bed. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Back to titles. Back to formality. Back to reality.
“Good girl,” he murmured absentmindedly, nodding in the direction of your bedroom. “Let us head back to our quarters. I’m buying you a new dress for the ball first thing in the morning.”
To say Rintaro had changed would be an understatement.
He was a completely different person than your husband in the honeymoon. It was as if… last night’s intimate encounter had brought him back to the Rintaro you fell in love with, but this time it felt different. He felt more intense. Maybe it was the fact that his secrets were now laid out in the open, which could mean his attentive actions toward you no longer held the purpose of winning you over. Maybe now he truly just wanted to spend time with you because he could.
Cancelling his plans for the day, he’d told the servants you were going out shopping, and oh, what a cunning, devilish Prince he is. He knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him out in public. With so many eyes watching, you spent nearly every second of the day with your arms looped around his, laughing and smiling at every word he said, and not daring to keep your eyes off him lest someone took a photographed and headlined it ‘Newly Married Royal Couple Having Their First Lovers’ Spat In Public.’ No. No, that would be catastrophic. The Queen would be furious.
Here, in public, you were forced to act sweet and touchy with him, to which the stupid Crown Prince basked in as he led you from boutique to boutique. He complimented you on everything, even when you wore a hideous bright orange gown that made even the designer flinch. But in Rintaro’s eyes, you were simply mesmerizing. He even got a suit that matched all of your dresses, claiming that everyone should know he was married to you. Everyone already knew that – the whole world knew – but you didn’t want to burst his bubble.
Aside from having a day off, your husband genuinely did seem to be doing things other than paperwork.
You stopped being kind once you entered the car, however, when the windows had rolled up and you had both stopped waving to the people. Here, it was just the driver and the both of you, and the driver knew better than to comment on whatever happened, anyway. Sighing, you scooted to the other end of the seat, prying yourself off of Rintaro’s tight grip around your waist.
“Drop the act.”
“What act?”
“Oh, please,” you scoffed, taking off your gloves and folding them neatly in your lap. “We are in the privacy of our car. You needn’t pretend any longer.”
“Who said I was pretending?”
You looked at him dead in the eye. “You are not fooling anyone. This was all a PR act – you did not actually mean whatever it is you said to me out there, but worry not. I’ll get out of your hair and divorce you – surely that will make everything easier.”
The way Rintaro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head would be comical if he didn’t look so scared. In a flash, your husband crossed the distance and sat next to you, his hurried movements causing his bangs to fall into his eyes. His large hands began to engulf yours, and you suck in a breath – without the gloves, it felt more intimate. “What divorce?” he chuckled nervously, brushing his lips over your bare knuckles. It was the faintest of touches, only done to appease you, but it still didn’t stop the bolt of heat coursing through your thighs. Gods, it was just so hard trying to stay mad at him.
“You know that’s impossible. Royal marriages are forever. Look, if you truly wish to divorce me, fine. But you know you will have to help me become King first. Once I am crowned, I can write a new law that says royal couples can be separated.”
“You are despicable.”
“I am,” he whined. Whined! Seriously, who was this man? “But I promise you, if you help me, I will let you go. Look, I’ll even find a high–ranking nobleman for you. The best of the best. You wouldn’t have to be lonely anymore. Just… don’t ever mention divorce to me right now. I won’t let you.”
Scoffing, you pull your hands back from his heavenly lips. “You seriously think after everything, loneliness is somehow my biggest issue?” Rintaro opened his mouth to retort, but you shook your head, making yourself small between him and the window seat. You hated it, how helpless you felt, from wanting his touch to being burnt by it. You hated it even more how you couldn’t look him in the eye as you mumbled, “Have you ever thought that maybe I just want to forget you?”
“I do not want you to,” he breathed out, and your eyes snapped shut when you felt his fingers brush over your cheeks. “But I am not so selfish to deprive you of a good thing. You will find someone who can love you better than I could.”
Your heart fell.
“Well, that would be easy. You never loved me to begin with.”
The Crown Prince never spoke again. You both mulled over your silences as you arrived back at the Palace, heading into the bathroom to do your nightly routines. Rintaro was to your left, taking out his razor blade and shaving foam while you stood to his right, lathering on your cleanser and toner. Thankfully, the silence did not feel as heavy as it did on the ride back home, but it was still far from being comfortable. It was only after you’d moisturized and turned to leave the room that Rintaro caught your wrist, glancing down at you with a pleading expression.
“Please. Can we stop fighting? I thought today was fun. Let us not end it hating each other.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, if I ruined your precious day,” you snapped, leaning back to examine how he missed a spot below his jaw. A slight stubble was visible, but you had to stop your hand from reaching out to him. You sighed. “All this space in the Palace and they couldn’t give us separate bathrooms?”
“Traditionally, royal married couples slept in separate rooms. Everything was separate, too, including bathrooms,” he gestured around you, “Perhaps you would’ve liked the old ways.”
Screw it. The small talk is the most awkward thing you have ever experienced.
“…You missed a spot,” you finally mumbled, taking his razor from him and gesturing for him to crouch down so you can reach. “Do you want me to finish it?”
Rintaro, despite his surprise, nodded and obeyed. It must have been uncomfortable for him to slouch, but he did so without complaints. He let you shave him as you saw fit, turning his head side to side, lathering on more foam, and you watched as his shoulders visibly deflated. Eyes fluttering close, Rintaro sighed, the tips of his fingers gingerly tracing circles as they laid beside your hips.
“You will take the bed as discussed,” he reminded, “You will not argue with me on this.”
“Okay,” you answered, because you, too, had no energy for more arguments. Once you were done with him, you wiped off the rest of the foam with a warm, wet towel. You both left the bathroom and went your separate ways – you to your king–sized bed, and him just outside the bedroom and into the lounge room, where you spent the past few nights sleeping. You realized he must not be sleeping well from it because of his large frame, yet Rintaro did not seem to mind.
Just as he was about to close the door, he lingered for a few beats.
“Thank you for going along the happily married couple act today,” he said, lifting his gaze from the carpeted floors to gaze into your eyes. “And for the record, I meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”
Then he turned, and swiftly closed the door, leaving you to be with your thoughts – all filled of him.
It didn’t help that the sheets and pillows still lingered with his scent.
You had your upcoming ball to thank for distracting you from your confusing feelings for your husband. That in itself was such a ridiculous statement, but one that ringed true. After Rintaro’s surprising gentleness, and the revelation from Maiko that he hadn’t spoken at all with Iris, you were now in a dangerous zone called Getting Your Hopes Up. Truly, you should know better. You had known Rintaro for years to know he could be effortlessly charming. He could have you wrapped tight around his finger, smiling like a lovesick fool, only for him to break your heart once more.
If not for that cold, hard truth, you would have invited him to bed with you that night. It seemed too tempting. It felt like the right thing to do. But you didn’t, and you were glad you held back on your desire, because you weren’t sure you could handle another heartbreak.
Especially because these past few days made you realize one thing – that you were still in love with him. The next morning, you found yourself wishing you had woken up next to him, and that was enough to make you avoid your husband all over again. And much to your disappointment, Rintaro stopped trying to chase after you, too, after countless rejections on your part. He had kept his distance, and only spoke with you momentarily when you arrived at your mother’s ball and had to exchange niceties with everyone.
After that, your husband excused himself and spoke with his brothers, but not after your parents couldn’t stop cooing at how adorable you and the Crown Prince were. He handled it with grace; kissing your cheek and thanking them for raising such a wonderful daughter. But the moment your parents became occupied with welcoming other guests, you were now left to entertain the other women in the ball.
Until the music began playing.
Until your song reverberated all across the room.
“This is the song you and the Crown Prince danced to the night you met,” your mother whispered beside you, giggling in your ear. “I requested it specifically for this night. Enjoy the dance with your husband. He’s already waiting.”
True to her word, you could feel Rintaro’s heated gaze on you from across the room. He’d stopped speaking with his brothers – the twins smirking beside him, Akaashi smiling at you softly, Tobio waving enthusiastically while nursing a glass of wine, and Kita firmly hovering from the walls with a concerned frown. Not that you paid attention to them. Your gaze was held by your husband and him only, bewitched as he started walking forward. The crowed parted for him like a true Prince until nothing stood in his way. Everyone smiled, giggling behind their gloves at the apparent ‘romance in the air.’ Beside you, your mother pushed you encouragingly, and you could feel everyone’s eyes on you, waiting to see if you would take the Crown Prince’s outstretched hands.
“My love,” he whispered above your gloved hands, and your heart skipped a beat. He didn’t call you Princess, or Your Highness. You knew it was for the sake of keeping appearances, but by the Gods, you loved him. You were so hopelessly in love with your husband that you placed your heart in his hands once more, silently pleading with him not to break it as he led you in the middle of the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”
“Yes,” you breathed out, your hand resting on his shoulder as naturally as his arms came to your waist. The exact same movements from the night you first met, with the same song, but with your love for him stronger tonight than it did when you first laid your eyes on him.
This time, you danced as man and wife, and you recalled his words from the other day.
How there were moments it seemed so simple – where there were no titles, just you and him, having this dance like it was the most natural, inexplicable thing in this world.
The chord struck. The crowd parted. He took the first step in the dance, and you took a step back. Not once did you tear your gaze away from him, happily drowning in the depths of his hazel eyes you could look at forever. And isn’t that what you’d always wanted? To spend a lifetime with him, to grow old together. It would have been so easy if it weren’t for –
“Don’t think about anything else,” your husband shook his head lightly, “Just enjoy this moment. Tonight, there is only you and I.”
“Okay,” you found yourself nodding, and his grip on your waist tightened for a second. “Just you and I.”
Rintaro’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles. “Just you and I.”
You and him in those moments – you felt immortal. Like nothing could stand in your way. Or perhaps you could die tonight, and you would die happy. Because you were in your husband’s arms, and he was looking at you and only you, murmuring how you were becoming more and more beautiful with each passing day. You were melting in his arms, like goo. Like pudding. And he was strong enough to catch you, to brush his nose against yours at each dip, or letting his lips linger on your forehead each time you came back to him with each spin.
But happy moments never lasted long enough, and soon the rotations were beginning. More couples have joined the dance floor. Through one spin, you caught sight of Tooru and Maiko. Neither of them looked happy, but Tooru visibly brightened when he caught your eye, and shamelessly winked. On the other side of the room danced Iris and Kiyoomi, with the latter looking so nauseous you worried dinner would be spilled on your mother’s floor. And then too soon, Rintaro’s hands were leaving yours as he moved to the nearest dance partner, and you were caught by a pair of strong, muscled arms.
“My turn,” Tooru teased, a grin now on his handsome face as he nudged his head in Rintaro’s direction. He was now dancing with your mother, and you could tell, even from this distance, the smile he wore was genuine. “Should I beat him up?”
You chuckled, throwing your head back. Despite his jokes and jabs, Prince Tooru was a surprisingly great dancer – less stiff than Rintaro, and more confident in his receiving when you spun and dipped. But dancing with him did not feel the same. There was no passion, no yearning, no longing – just the lighthearted air of good humor and his calming nature.
“I don’t think beating the Crown Prince up would be a very wise decision.”
“Indeed, but I was never the Prince known for making wise decisions. That would be more Shinsuke’s forte,” he snorted, and the song reached a part for another rotation. However, Tooru refused to let you go and intentionally spun you away from what was supposed to be your next dance partner. Out of shock, you slapped his chest, and his broad chest rumbled with laughter.
“Your Highness! That was unbelievably rude!”
“As I have said,” you both laughed when he spun you again, “I am not the Prince known to be socially adept.”
You bent over in giggles, your head resting on his chest as you danced more throughout the night. Your feet were getting tired, but your mother was right – this was a night to enjoy. You danced to your heart’s content, exchanging jokes with the handsome Fifth Prince until you craned your neck to the side, only to be stopped by Prince Tooru’s large hand. This time, he no longer smiled as he gazed upon the dancing partners behind you, and your skin turned cold.
You had a feeling you knew exactly why.
“Don’t look. You won’t like what you’ll see.”
Nodding, you pursed your lips and forced a smile at him. “It’s okay, Princess,” he comforted, “Just look at me. You need not concern yourself with others.”
So you danced, and danced, until you could hear your father pleading with the Fifth Prince to give his daughter back because he didn’t get a chance to have a dance with you yet. Reluctantly, Tooru handed you over to your father, but not without a faux frown.
“That was a lovely dance, Your Highness. I wish we could’ve danced more.”
“I think we danced enough.”
Tooru’s smile was guarded; secretive. “I’m afraid it was not enough.”
You danced with your father next. And it was lovely, seeing him up close with all his smile lines and wrinkles. You missed him so, dearly, and he felt the same way. It hurt having to lie to him when he asked how you were settling in the Palace, but you didn’t want to concern him with your personal matters, and for some reason, it didn’t sit well with you if your father disliked Rintaro. So you swallowed your discomfort down and told him everything was great – silently wishing he wouldn’t pry further. He didn’t. And when the song slowed, your father kissed you on the cheek before letting you meet with your next dancing partner.
Stood in front of you was a great wall of what could only be described as majestic. Dressed in white with gold ornaments, Prince Kiyoomi’s curls framed his handsome face beautifully. You had been so accustomed seeing him in more comfortable clothing, and in the privacy of his own home, that seeing him out here in society, it reminded you that he, too, was a Prince.
The Second Prince – the would have been next King should Ushijima and Rintaro falter.
“My Prince.”
“Princess,” he bowed, taking your hand in his as you made your way back to the dance floor. The music played again, this time louder, and the Prince leaned down until his lips were brushing against the shell of your ear. You repressed a gasp, unable to help yourself from digging your nails into his palm when you were greeted by how good he smelled – like mint, new leather, and pine. It also dawned on you how tall and firm the Prince was – perhaps taller and more muscular than Rintaro.
“Y–Yes, Your Highness?”
“Remind me to thank your mother for extending her invites to the forgotten Prince. Imagine my shock when I saw her invitation letter this morning.”
You chuckled nervously, thankful that he had now slightly tilted his head back. “I hardly doubt you are a forgotten prince.”
He snorted, effortlessly spinning you with one hand. “It’s not like I do my duties to begin with. I wouldn’t be surprised if I truly was forgotten,” distracted by his scent, you unknowingly stepped on the hem of your dress and slipped backwards. A scream nearly tore out your throat when the Prince’s large hands cupped the small of your back, your chest pressed to his and his curls brushing against your cheeks as he held you close. “Careful.”
“Th–thank you.”
You were a mess after that. You were never the best dancer, but something about being in the older Prince’s presence made you extra nervous. If he noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He simply danced with grace, and hid his grimace well each time you stepped on his toes. He had also convinced you to stop apologizing every time you did, and by the time the dance was over, you were more than ready to disappear.
“Thank you for the dance, my Prince,” you bowed, words hurried, “I shall see you–”
“Kiyoomi!” a woman appeared out of nowhere, her thick, dark curls pinned up beautifully with some loose strands swaying in time with her hips. She had the same moles as Kiyoomi, and you watched, entranced, as the older woman wrapped her arm casually around the prince. The two shared a silent conversation with their eyes before Kiyoomi glanced at you, and the woman followed his line of sight. “Oh! Your Highness. Greetings. I don’t believe I have introduced myself before – I’m Kanami; Kiyoomi’s mother.”
You smiled at her, politely taking her hand as she extracted herself from her son’s arms and taken to draping herself all over you. Discomfort must be written all over your face, because the Second Prince sent an apologetic smile your way.
“It is an honor to meet you, Miss Kanami. Are you enjoying the night so far? The travel all the way from Itachiyama must have been exhausting.”
“Oh, it was, but it’s all worth it now that we’ve met again!” she squealed, and you paled.
“We have met before?”
Just as she nodded and went about to retelling this so–called meeting, Iris popped up behind Kiyoomi, her smile stiff as she regarded Kanami. Instantly, your mood soured. She hadn’t spoken to you at all tonight, which you were thankful, but something about the thought of her dancing with your husband, and probably being suggestive while at it had your blood boiling.
“Mother! Such a shock seeing you here. I wasn’t aware you were invited.”
Kanami barely glanced her way, her dark, curious eyes still on your face.
“Hello, Iris, and it’s Miss Sakusa, dear,” she corrected, her enthusiastic smile momentarily fading into a scowl before it returned. “Say, Your Highness, since you’re still on your honeymoon period – and I’ve heard your dear husband is too busy these days – would you want to come visit Itachiyama with me? I would be honored to be your host. It will also be a great opportunity to learn more about your Princess duties and politics!” leaning closer, she whispered behind her gloves, although her words were loud enough to be heard by Prince Tooru and Iris. “Although if I will be honest, politics does not interest me in the least bit.”
Your mouth fell open and closed, unsure of what to say, until you settled on chuckling and patting her hand wrapped around your arm. “I… Thank you for invitation, Kanami. I am most tempted to see your beautiful country, but Princess Iris should be the one visiting her territory, should she not?”
Kanami scrunched her nose.“The Princess never grew up in Itachiyama. She would be just as clueless as you. Besides, I have always wanted to invite you over ever since you had Kiyoomi as your last dance on your eighteenth birthday!”
“He… was?”
“He was! Don’t you remember, dear?” she turned to Kiyoomi, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him already. But judging by his reaction, it seemed true – Kiyoomi was your last dance on your debut ball. “Well, in that case, I was always fond of you. I may be crossing the line here, but it was always a famous royal saying that whoever was your last dance on your debutante ball was your destined lover.”
#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna rintarou angst#suna x yn#haikyuu x reader#suna rintarou x reader#rintaro suna x reader#kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa x reader fluff#kiyoomi sakusa x you#suna x you#tooru oikawa x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#suna rintarō x reader#suna rintarō x you#series: dusk till dawn
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Forever
Hi guys!
You were waiting for this one for a long time but it's finally here! This is Luna's elopement fic.
As always, this is a fiction, so it's purely coming from my mind. Please enjoy this one and tell me what you thought about it!
TW : None, I think. Maybe a little of chaos.
Lucy is tired, like bloody tired. Her and her team just won the cup of the Champions League yesterday and she’s still hungover from the party last night. She regretted bitterly her choice of drink this morning when the alarm went on, asking her to get up to get on the bus and then the plane. They had to be in Barcelona in the afternoon to present the cup at all the Cùlers and for some random talking with people in suit.
She’s not as hungover as Cata though, the woman practically snoring during the ceremony, much to her friends’ amusement.
To distract herself during the speeches that she finds rather annoying, Lucy is looking at her girlfriend. Standing right in front of her, Ona seems to be listening for the people who don’t know her, but Lucy knows better. Ona’s eyes are a little off, but Lucy can’t say if it’s because she’s bored or because she’s in pain.
The cuts she had because of her fall on their opponent’s boot is sharp, she needed three stitches on her cheek. The other one is way to close to her eyes to do anything. Lucy feels the bile running up her throat every time she remembers that her girlfriend could have lost an eye that night.
The English woman frowns when she sees Ona rubbing her injured eye, the scarring itching terribly. But the team’s doctors clearly specified that Ona should touch her eye as little as possible for a quick and optimal recovery.
“Ona” Lucy gently scolds her.
The younger pouts and crosses her arms on her breast, making Lucy smiles softly. She can’t wait to go home, find their dogs and sleep for the next three days before she has to go to national camp in England.
Thanks God they stop soon to talk, and Lucy is relieved to be able to go home. She even grabs Ona’s bags and push her in the direction of her car when they are released. Ona laughs slightly but let her do, looking for her keys in her pocket while Lucy puts their bag in the car.
“What do you think you're doing, Batlle?” Lucy tsk her when Ona sits behind the wheel.
“Going home?” Ona frowns.
“Get out of here. I’m the one driving, you almost lost an eye.”
“Lucia I can drive.”
Ona is sulking and Lucy rolls her eyes. The Catalan girl is the nicest and sweetest person in the world, but Lucy swears that she never met someone as suborn as her girlfriend. Which she likes very much, even if she sometimes seems to forget that she needs to take care of her.
“Sure Cyclops. Let’s sit on the passenger’s seat yeah?”
Ona frowns harder and try to make her girlfriend changes her mind, but she realizes soon that she doesn’t stand a chance. Lucy usually gets Ona what she wants, but not if she knows that it isn’t good for Ona.
The drive home is long, the journey who is usually thirty minutes is far from being finish and yet they only made several kilometers in one hour and an half.
“You can sleep if you want, Bonita” Lucy says softly at her girlfriend.
Ona was lost in the contemplation of the streets, but she turns her head in Lucy’s direction with a soft smile.
“I know. I prefer enjoying my time with you though. I three days we will be separated again.”
Lucy smiles softly, very carefully stroking Ona’s face. The wound looks better than yesterday but it still seems hurtful. But Ona isn’t the kind of girl to complain about anything.
“You’ll be careful with that beautiful face of yours, yeah?”
Ona hums only. She doesn’t want to have a big, awful and permanent scar on her face, but they don’t really let them be gentle during Spanish camp.
“I asked Alexia to keep an eye on you anyway.”
Ona whines, much to Lucy’s amusement. She knows what she was doing when she asked that to Alexia, their captain will be around Ona during all the camp, probably snapping her hand away every time Ona will want to scratch her face.
“How can you do that to me?” Ona groans.
“I did it because I love you” Lucy smiles, rolling her eyes.
“You definitively don’t love me as much as you say. If it was right, you would never betray me this way.”
“You are so dramatic” Lucy laughs softly.
“All that I’ll retain from this conversation is that I love you more than you love me.”
“That’s not true” Lucy frowns.
“It is. I’m the one who love you the most but that’s ok.”
With a satisfy smile, Ona shrugs before taping Lucy’s hand on her thigh. This discussion is going again and again between them, a childish and sweet fight that none of them want to give up.
“Ok” Lucy says after several seconds of silence. “If you love me so much, marry me.”
There is another moment of silence.
“Qué?”
Ona is looking at her girlfriend with wide eyes, seriously asking herself if Lucy lost her mind. But Lucy is looking at her seriously.
“Are you still drunk?” Ona asks, arching an eyebrow.
“No. I am very serious, Ona. I love you. I know you are the love of my life. You are the one I want to finish my life with, I’ve never be so sure about anything in my whole life. I don’t have a ring, but I’ll change that as soon as possible. I want to marry you.”
This is unreal for Ona. Of course, she already thought about marrying Lucy one day, because she’s sure that Lucy is the love of her life too. Lucy flipped her life upside down, in the best way possible. The situation is unreal, but the answer she gives seems to be as much.
“Ok”
“Yes? Will you marry me?”
“Yes” Ona smiles softly.
Even if this isn’t the most convenient marriage proposal, there still is some tears in Lucy’s eyes. And the smile she gives to Ona makes Ona’s heart fluttered. But then, Lucy is suddenly turning on the road, taking the opposite street of their apartment.
“Lucy what are you doing?”
“We are going to the airport, taking the next plane for Las Vegas. I want to marry you right now.”
“What? But Lucy the dogs? Our parents are going to kill us!”
“Coco and Narla can stay a little longer to your parents. And we will make a ceremony with everyone in several days. I just don’t want to pass another day without you being called my wife.”
The tender smile Ona gives her talk for her. She wrote to her parents to ask them to keep the dogs a little bit longer, explaining that Lucy and her are taking surprised holidays. She doesn’t say why and where though.
While Lucy is looking for a place on the parking, Ona is looking at the first plane leaving for Las Vegas. She managed to find one leaving in five hours, choosing to be in business class, after all they are getting married, right? They let their suitcases from the game in the car, choosing to buy new clothes in the airport. And because they are in business class, they have the lounge and the possibility to take a shower before landing.
Their seats are next to each other on the plane, but when they are on the sky, Ona chooses to escalate the wall between them to sit next to Lucy. Well, on Lucy. In the darkness of the plane and night, they cannot be seen from anyone, not that their embrace has anything looking like Pegi 18 anyway. Lucy just had passed her hand under Ona’s shirt to stroke her back and they are under a cover.
“Lucy?” whispers Ona.
It’s dark and quiet, people around them are sleeping or watching a movie from the television in front of them.
“What is it, Bonita?” Lucy whispers in answer.
“Are you sure you want to do this? We still can enjoy our time in Las Vegas, we are not forced to get married if you want to change your mind.”
“Are you scared?” Lucy smiles.
“No” Ona answers, putting her head again on Lucy’s shoulder. “I’m only scared that you will regret it the next morning.”
“Never.”
To add power to her answer, Lucy squeezes her harder against her, making Ona smile. She then kisses her hair, even if the shampoo she used isn’t the same one she’s using daily. Her natural scent is still here though, Lucy loves to think that Ona smell like sun, sand, and holidays.
Lucy smiles when she sees Ona yawning, the last days were chaotic. They were great, but very tiring and they haven’t many times to rest. They sleep a lot during the long trip, catching their lake of sleep, before landing to Philadelphia to take another plane.
“People are wondering where we are going” Ona smiles while looking at her messages during their stopover to Philadelphia.
“Tell them Lesbos Island” Lucy answer, looking at Ona’s phone above her shoulder.
Ona rolls her eyes and bite in the croissant she received during the journey. It’s not as good as the one she had in France, but still ok for an empty stomach.
“People are going to be wild when they’ll know” Lucy adds soon after. “How do you think we can say it to them?”
“If we want to keep the clichés, we can send them a picture of us next to a fake Elvis.”
********
They arrive at Las Vegas after several more hours, choosing one of the most expensive suites in the hotel Ona likes the most – The Venetian. Even if the younger one tried to protest, Lucy makes her shut with only one gaze.
“This is wild” Ona mumbles, looking at the view they have from it.
They are on the 36th floor and can see almost everything around. She lost herself in the contemplation of the streets and the lights, while Lucy is busy turning of the air conditioning who is always making her sick, after what she says.
She then takes several seconds to look at Ona, who turned her back at her. She’s smiling while looking at the smaller one. Even if it’s look like a whim, she knows what she’s doing. She was thinking about proposing to Ona for several weeks now, she wanted to do things right with a sweet proposal and everything. She still can make the surprise to Ona when she got the ring.
She is so in love with Ona.
She is so in love and is going to marry her.
It’s sometimes scary for Lucy to admit to herself how much her happiness depends of that wonderful and beautiful girl in front of her. She doesn’t understand how someone like Ona can be interested in her.
Sure, Lucy knows that a lot of people fancy her, she’s not stupid. But she’s older than Ona and she won’t be able to play football for as long as Ona would. But when she talked about it to Ona, the younger girl just smirk and answer that she would like this has a lot of time to choose her clothes for her wagging era.
Feeling a rush of love for the girl in front of her, Lucy breaks the distance between them in three big strides, before embracing Ona from behind.
“What if you’re the one regretting this tomorrow?” Lucy asks quietly, for once letting out some form of vulnerability.
“I won’t” Ona answers.
Her tone is so sure that there is no reason for Lucy to doubt about it. Ona turns around in Lucy’s arms, passing hers around Lucy’s neck.
“T'estimaré per tota la vida” she whispers, before kissing Lucy softly. (I’ll love you for all my life)
Lucy’s progresses in Catalan are prodigious, thanks to her personal teacher, which allows her to easily understand what Ona has just whispered against her lips. She doesn’t have time to answer though, carried away by the extent of Ona’s kiss.
“Is it a way not to leave this room and not to get married, miss Batlle?”
“I can’t believe we’ve done it” Ona mumbles, looking at the pictures on her phone.
They are on their way back to Barcelona, after a stop at Dallas this time. They haven’t said anything to anyone about their marriage, like Lucy said, they will make a ceremony for their families and Lucy even planned a way to offer a magic proposal to Ona with the ring she will find in Barcelona.
She looked for jewelry in Barcelona when Ona fell asleep in her arms after having celebrated their wedding.
“Still no regret?” Lucy whispers, looking at Ona’s phone above the armrest between them.
“Never.”
A sweet smile is on Ona’s face when she looks at her girlfr… wife. Even if they have to make the contract acknowledged in Spain. They are travelling during the day this time and people are obviously more up than during the first fly. Lucy sulks when she realizes that Ona won’t be able to join her on her seat like before, but then Ona grabs her hand and never let it go since. She can live with that.
“I always thought that the big Elvis' was a myth to be honest” Lucy comments when she sees the photo where they are posing next to him. “It was like a movie.”
“Yeah. I liked that movie though; the first actress is hot” Ona smirks.
“The Spaniard with the scar? Yes. Hot and badass.”
********
When Lucy’s back from the England Camp, Ona had the time to make their marriage contract recognized. She went back home from the camp after deciding that it was better for her face that way. She was sad not to be able to play with Leila again, but it was safer that way. She went to training with Patri and Mapi and passed time with Narla and Coco.
She went to take Lucy from the airport and Lucy already started to look for the right ring. She looked for several days before making the choice to have it custom-made. Lucy wants it to be perfect.
They managed to keep the secret for now, the only difference is that Lucy calls Ona “Wifey” at home now and that they can’t keep their hands away of each other. They are not making out in public, but they are impossible to separate. And when they are on each side of one room, they keep look and smile at each other.
“Can you please stay focus and stop drooling on Ona for a second, Bronze?” Mariona asks, hitting Lucy behind her head.
“I’m not drooling” Lucy frowns, showing Mariona away.
“You are” Mariona laughs.
But then Mario’s laugh drags Ona’s attention – who was talking with Salma and Jana - and she smirks at Lucy who kind of forgot why she’s supposed to be mad at her friend. The calm of the room is suddenly broken by a roar coming from Alexia’s voice as soon as she enters it.
“LUCIA ROBERTA TOUGH BRONZE!”
Lucy jumps and look at their captain like a teenager in trouble without knowing what she did bad. But the blonde came right in front of Lucy with a paper, the room suddenly quiet.
Lucy gets pale when she sees the sheet and Ona doesn't need longer explanations to understand what it is. However, Alexia doesn't hesitate to give more details.
“I was helping the administrative team to make the papers for our next trip, and they told me about this funny mistake, like they said. I did my research and it’s look like it isn’t actually a mistake. So will you please tell me why and how in the world it is written black on white that you are married to Ona Batlle Pascual?”
Ona makes a grimace when she feels almost all the eyes on the room going on her. It isn’t the way she wanted to tell people, but she can see Mapi from the corner of her eyes who seems to have the time of her life.
“You choose Lucy, Oni? What about us?” Jana jokes, but she is suddenly silent when she crosses Alexia’s eyes.
“Come on Ale’, what was I supposed to do? Ask you before asking her?” Lucy rolls her eyes.
“Well at least. Then I would have refused and took Ona on a secret island” Alexia groans.
“Your kids are growing up, Alexia, get over it” Irene says, patting Alexia shoulders. “Ask Pina about her love life, you’ll be stunned” she adds, before leaving the room.
“WHAT?!”
#woso imagine#woso fanfics#ona batlle#ona batlle imagine#woso one shot#lucy and ona#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze#ona batlle x lucy bronze#lucy bronze x ona batlle
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latest fix rant time
none of my friends want to talk to me about monkey movies and then i remembered i have a whole blog dedicated to my latest fixations so. i've watched Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes two (TWICE ✌️) times in theaters. this was after watching the newer trilogy (Rise, Dawn & War) and the first 1968 original in prep.
things (SPOILERS!!!):
Kingdom's run time is 2 hours and 25 minutes. this is incredibly long for a movie. compared to 1968's 1 hour and 52 minutes, that's a half hour difference. Infinity War was 2 hours and 36 minutes for reference. that's a whole marvel cinimatic convergence, but ape. the run time isn't exactly the issue i've seen talked about. it's the pacing. sitting twice through this movie was not a problem for me. i sat there engaged all the way through. on the second watch, i tried to be mindful of times in which it might have been dragging for the average person, and i like, literally couldn't find any. pretty much every scene had meaning and didn't drag imo. which is something these newer movies do extremely well. Kingdom is pretty equally split between verbal communication and sign language compared to the first three before it. the apes use both verbal and visual cues to talk. but because they don't talk every single time, it makes every moment that they do feel special. it reminds me of the Quiet Place concept, where most of the movie you only hear a human voice a few select times when it's safe to do so. Rise, Dawn, & War were kind of like this, as Caesar only really spoke when he was trying to make a point or communicating to humans, who are mostly speaking in those movies. he speaks more as he gets more fluent, and by War, he can speak very well. we see other apes like Koba, Maurice, Blue Eyes, and Bad Ape also speak English. these moments are rationed pretty well throughout Kingdom, making the dialog more select and meaningful. this makes every time these beasts talk feel like it means something and isn't just fluff to fill your ears. every other scene feels like it's building or showing a side of a character we hadn't seen before, and the scenes between those advance the plot or are like, really action-packed. i just don't see why some people say it has pacing problems. it's just long. i understand the average person's attention span is super short, but when you're sitting down to watch two and a half hours of movie, you gotta know there's gonna be downtime. moments where they're not fighting or advancing the plot. and i think that's GOOD man. but im also not one for action/adventures very much so maybe that's it? i think a lot of people maybe watch these apes for the violence and conflict rather than their introspection, genuinely thoughtful world building, and complex characters. and hey, that's completely fine to enjoy, but POTA is originally about morals and asking the audience questions and posing dilemmas to popular beliefs at the time. ok
Raka. he's great. Peter Macon has this butter smooth voice that's just perfect for the kind of character he plays. you can't help but like him. but he dies like 1/3 into the movie and is really only there to religion dump about Caesar (ape jesus) and then he's swept away. people are complaining that that's all he was really there for. to explain the real values of Caesar and provide a foil to Proximus. and i agree to some degree. i really hope he's not actually dead. his presence and death are felt throughout the movie, as both Mae and Noa (mostly Noa vocalizes it, Mae just silently shares in his loss and i think cries at one point?) seem to mourn him, saying shit like "if Raka were here..." and especially at the end when Noa gives the Caesar pendant to her. it's the shared memory of Raka and what he devoted his life to. but they never really like, actually linger on his death. there's a moment after he's swept away, and the shot stays on the rushing waters, Raka no longer visible and plays some sad tunes, but like. C'MON. he's not really dead. he isn't please tell me he isn't PLEASE
Noa isn't Caesar. i honestly do not get why you would want otherwise. of course, he isn't Caesar. we don't need another Caesar. he had a whole three movies to be the center of. i would be extremely disappointed if they just made a carbon copy of him or made Noa like a direct descendant of him or whatever. i hate that Chosen One bullshit. Caesar was just a guy that wanted peace for his people and that got him killed in the end. Noa is also a guy who wants peace for his clan. they're both leaders and have good hearts, but like. they're different characters. i LIKE that Noa has no relation to Caesar, i LIKE that he's his own character with his own ideals and purpose. Owen Teague does a wonderful job making the character his own. i mean Andy Serkis is Andy fucking Serkis. pretty big shoes to fill and i think Teague has the right foot size you know. i heard one guy say like "we've had our time to mourn Caesar" and yeah. we have. let's accept that and move on
WHERE MY APE DIVERSITY AT. we get a fuck ton of chimps, ONE orangutan, ONE gorilla, and ONE bonobo. what the hell. i mean. what is with the bonobo villian. Koba i fucks with because bonobos are some of the most playful, nonviolent apes out there. that humanity and its cruelty could twist a naturally peaceful creature into what Koba became.. i mean, that's great. but again with Proximus? maybe trying to evoke some of the same energy and nuance Koba had? ALSO. GORILLA PSA they are like so sweet. all that muscle is there to protect their families, and they're strictly vegetarians. i feel like Rise, Dawn, & War portrayed this better with most of the gorillas getting bodyguard jobs because of all their bulk. especially when Luca tucks that flower in Nova's ear. man. and Red going out like he did. gentle giants. in Kindgom we just have Sylva. gorilla henchman for Proximus. that's it. then we have Raka, the one orangutan character that i saw. wise and knowledgeable, guides and accompanies Noa and Mae then dies. at least we get one female chimp character that's more than just wife or mother. wikipedia lists Soona as Noa's love interest, which i can totally dig, like it's there. he takes her to the telescope at the end of Kingdom, which is more than what we saw romance-wise between Caesar and Cornelia. and the only other important chimp female is Dar, Noa's mom. in Rise, Dawn & War there was usually only one of each species of ape assigned a main role, but we saw much more diversity it felt like. maybe that's because there were smaller in numbers and have since spread out in the last 300 years? also like, bonobos are known for having female-female & male-male sex. dont know about the other apes. my friend mentioned that Raka said something about having a male companion and promptly searched reddit. all they had to say was: gaype?
the visuals. dear god the visuals. this movie is just visually stunning. absolutely breathtaking. they did a great job. i mean Rise, Dawn, & War are all triumphs of cgi and are excellent examples of the animation style done right. i did hear some guy say there is a loss of texture, as mostly everything in Kingdom is cgi, from the characters to the landscapes. but there's an explosion of texture in this film. there's one point where Noa is covered in the ash of his village and you can see it on his fur. there's quite a couple water scenes where the moisture clings to the apes' fur. It's all very impressive. great work
the references!! Rise especially has a ton of them (IT'S A MADHOUSE!!! & GET YOUR STINKIN PAWS OFF ME YOU DAMN DIRTY APE), and names like Nova and Cornelius, but Kingdom... i picked up on at least three main instances, but im sure there are more. there's the scene where the apes are rounding up the feral humans, and its very reminiscent of the scene from 1968 where they're doing the same thing for sport. there's the scene where Mae is running in the field, and she jumps on that log structure to get to Noa, which is nearly identical to a similar scene in 1968. the scene when Noa, Soona, and Anaya are exploring the human bunker and they come across an old classroom. one of them picks up a doll that says a distorted "Mama" which was huge in the original because that was evidence that once man did speak, why else would he make a doll that talked? superb call backs to the og. respect what was there before
SCHLONG THEORY
here me out guys. the starring ape-human relationship in Rise was between Caesar and Will. this type of love is called storge and describes the love a child has for a parent as well as the love a parent has for their child.
the starring ape-human relationship in Dawn was ultimately between Caesar and Malcolm. which i believe is truly philia towards the end, the love between friends and allies. just two dudes trying to keep peace in the world.
in War, i mean Caesar well and truly hates the Colonel. like more than he's hated any human in his life before. close to mania, obsession. anyways it's a study on this type of relationship between an ape and a human. true, all consuming hate.
SO in the newer movies we've explored familial love, platonic love, and hate, between an ape and a human.
in Kingdom the main ape-human relationship is between Noa and Mae. and their relationship is complex. not really that friendly and certainly not familial. no trust. some kind of begrudging respect maybe? i just think it would be neat if in further installments they explored a romantic love between a human and an ape. ok.
i KNOW Noa and Soona are probably going to get ape married and they're never going to touch on the subject but i just find it hard to believe that in the last 300 years or so that's NEVER been heard of. apes have the same level of intimacy between each other as humans do in this universe and can willingly consent. what are you so afraid of wes ball
after all, the whole franchise is about how apes, when given intelligence, compare to humans and begs the question: how different are we really?
is it possible for an ape and a human to fall in love?
#WILL talk about sentient apes for hours#straight off the noggin#kingdom of the planet of the apes#he was an ape#she was a girl#can i make it any more obvious
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i'll play giles, you be spike
ao3
summer reading starts on monday, your local children's librarian (me) is grabby handing any inspiration they can and running with it.
"There's a vampire in the nonfiction section." Steve says in a harsh whisper that feels louder than if he’d just shouted it from across the room at Robin like he’d wanted to in the first place.
She finishes her spinny chair rotation before saying, "And other rejected Bailey School kid titles. What game is this?"
"It's not a game!” He drops the stack of go-backs he was about to put on the shelf in a thump on the counter. His preference for taking small stacks instead of wheeling the whole cart has served him well both for his sense of dramatics and for his ability to stealth. “There is a Kiefer Sutherland Lost Boys vampire in the nonfiction stacks. Or he’s really more like the dark haired one."
"There really is something for everyone at the library." She says with a dreamy sigh, bringing her folded hands up to her face.
"Robin! Could you be serious for five seconds?"
"Could you? Why are you jumping to vampire when it's obviously just a goth patron?”
He leans further across the desk so he can whisper more aggressively in her face. “Because he was in the 800’s Robin, nobody just goes into the 800’s.”
“Plenty of people go into the 800's, that's where all of the poetry and short stories are?”
“Oh yeah, all the poetry and short stories Diana buys. You tell me the last time you remember a new poetry book hitting the collection that wasn’t for Adelle back in Kids and maybe I’ll believe you about vampire guy.”
She sputters, because he’s right, and he had to listen to her complain about how she never would have heard of Gay Poems for Red States if their digital collection on Libby weren’t so much better stocked than their physical collection. And he’s right about this.
“You’re not right about this, but let’s pretend you are. Why don’t you go out and live your Bella Swan fantasy then, dingus.”
“Because he’s super hot and intimidating-”
“-and you want him to bite you.”
“And,” he says loud enough that Mrs. Willis over on the computer shushes him. “And you don’t get to make fun of me just because some perky blonde hasn’t shown up to help you live out your little Tinkerbelle fairy fantasy.”
“Excuse me,” a warm, raspy voice pipes up from behind Steve, he doesn’t have to turn to be certain of who it belongs to. But he does, because he gets off on that edge of self-embarrassment and also it’s his literal job.
“How can I help you?”
The bulky leather jacket the guy has on, even though it’s May and basically already the summer, must have him hot. There’s a flush staining his face that is not a point away from Steve’s vampire theory even if he knows Robin is already thinking that it is. He’s wearing a shirt that says Corroded Coffin which is where vampires live, he knows that much even if he never can successfully keep up with Dracula Daily any year he tries.
“Yeah, so I made a bet with a friend that I could find a really specific piece of information before her by going to the library instead of using the internet.” Robin sucks in a sharp breath between her teeth, the sound of Steve’s wince. “I’m playing the long odds, Google kind of sucks now, so I think I’ve got a chance.”
“Steve can help you out,” Robin volunteers, standing up on the foot rest of her wheely chair to give his shoulder a shove. “He’s the best at finding things in the dark, secluded stacks where the cameras can’t see you.”
“Um…”
“Did you already know what you were looking for?” Steve asks, just to stop what is currently happening. “If it’s just the book not being where it’s at I can help you find it. Nonfiction is a pain, and people are always trying to be helpful and put things away; but I guess Hawkins Elementary isn’t teaching decimals like they used to.”
He couldn’t be rambling any worse if he were actually Robin and not the other timeshare owner of their worst brain cell.
Hot vampire guy just watches, a little amused but his smile is closed lipped, because he’s obviously trying to hide his vampire fangs. Not that Steve has a problem with being the hapless victim at the beginning of the Buffy episode, everybody has to go sometime and if it’s via a hotter Spike it’s better than the way he always assumed he would die (as a casualty of one of Henderson’s sketchy science experiments.)
“I have a confession,” hot vampire guy says, they’ve made it back to where Steve remembers him standing before.
“Yeah,” he prompts, idly scanning the shelf in front of him. Hopefully projecting whatever air of openness that gets strangers to confess their darkest sins to him unprompted at nine in the morning, so that this hot stranger feels comfortable admitting that he’s a sexy creature of the night.
“I don’t actually need anything from this row, our bet was actually about whether or not you and your coworker are an item.”
Well that wasn’t at all what Steve was hoping he would say. Hot guy -- probably a human hot guy since it is five o’clock and the sun is still high in the sky -- isn’t looking at him. He's straightening up the short story collections and bringing them up neatly to the edge of the shelf, letting his fingers gently flirt with some of the spines in lingering and wanting glances.
“Yeah, we're not together, and you're not her type. Sorry to be the bearer of that bad news.”
Hot guy sputters, mouth opening wide in his haste to deny his interest and revealing moderately sharp but definitely human canines and incisors.. Unfortunate, since Steve doesn't trust anyone who isn't a little obsessed with Robin like he is.
“She seems great,” he says when he's finished spitting all over the books, “she's just not really my type either. Seems like she's more into literary fiction and I’m looking for a guy who’s into campy horror and bad sci-fi.”
“The Star Trek novelizations aren’t bad sci-fi,” he says by rote, having spent too much time with the most annoying nerds in the world who only appreciated door stops that had ‘literary merit.’ Then the rest of the sentence catches up with him. “Oh!”
Hot guy smiles, and smug isn’t something that Steve usually finds attractive but it’s working on him. “I’m Eddie,” he says, “and if you’ll give me a second to win this bet you can tell me how you feel about maybe going out with someone who only plays a vampire on paper.”
#steddie#steddie fic#my fic#modern au#librarian steve harrington#pretty sure this is a crack fic#i have no excuse my brain is tired and the summer is just starting#(the week before is always the worst it's the anticipation once it actually starts itll be fine)
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just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:
female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing
relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)
character is the child of a mob family
portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama
portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms
abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible
characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home
writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side
writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible
writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it
writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry
the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points
too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)
characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them
pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s
the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling
etc.
There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:
when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent
when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both
it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess
like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work
Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.
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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.
✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp
✦ word count: 6k
✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)
✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!
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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.
You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.
"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"
Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.
"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."
"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.
She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.
"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.
"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.
You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.
She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."
The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.
"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.
Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.
The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."
As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.
A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.
"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.
You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."
After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.
"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."
"Yeah, definitely," you lie.
"Awesome! Talk to you late, then." she smiles, and you know she's lying too.
Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.
"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.
You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and put your hood over your head, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms in close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.
As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.
Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your dorm, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.
In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this one. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.
Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.
Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?
Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.
You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones. You pay the driver, and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.
After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.
The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.
Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.
As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.
The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.
Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.
Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.
For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.
Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.
"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.
Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.
"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.
Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.
"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."
"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.
She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"
And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.
You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."
You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.
"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"
You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.
"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"
Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."
"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.
You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.
Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.
You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.
That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.
You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.
"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.
Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.
The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.
You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.
"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.
She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"
You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"
Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.
"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."
As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.
You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."
The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.
"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.
"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.
"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"How do you know that?"
She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."
"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?
"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.
"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.
"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."
The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.
Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.
The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.
"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.
"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.
"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.
"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"
You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.
Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.
"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."
She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.
"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."
The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.
"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."
Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."
With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.
"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.
You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.
She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"
"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.
"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.
"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.
She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.
"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.
She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.
"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.
"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.
Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.
"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."
She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.
Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.
"Something wrong?"
"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.
"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."
You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.
Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.
You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.
"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.
She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.
A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.
"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.
She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.
"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.
Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.
She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.
"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.
You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.
"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.
She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.
"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"
"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.
She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.
"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.
The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.
"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.
She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.
"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.
"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.
Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.
Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?
"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.
She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.
"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."
She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.
"So easy to please," she teases.
"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.
Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.
"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.
"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.
A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.
"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."
You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.
One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.
"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.
You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.
She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.
"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."
You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.
"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.
Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.
"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.
#bada lee#bada lee fanfic#bada lee x reader#bada lee x y/n#swf2#street woman fighter 2#bada lee imagine#bada lee smut
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Happy pride month and all!
I figured now was a good time to ask, but do you have any thoughts about the sexuality of the characters in your Sep AU?
Sorry if you’ve been asked already, and the answer can definitely be no, I’m just curious :)
Happy pride!! ✨
Here's the thing about headcanons about queer identities, I personally prefer to not get too stuck on specific labels. While there are exceptions, I generally try to remain flexible if that makes sense? As in I like having multiple different interpritation about characters' identities so deciding on One Particular Label can feel limiting to me.
I mentioned it before, but I do plan on making Capril an established relationship in the AU sooner or later, so April and Casey are definitely sapphic. But more specific than that? Are they lesbian or bi or pan or whatever?? I dunno!! It's not really relevant to the story so I might as well leave that up to interpretation.
My approach to creating stories is that I'll usually only decide on specific labels if it is plot relevant, Schrödingers Identity if you will, lol, it can be anything if you don't decide on it beforehand. Again, there are exceptions, Leo is gay 100% like duh I can't interpret him any other way XD. Splinter is a Bi-Icon and I will STAND BY THAT!
Raph, Donnie and Mikey? Man who knows, canon Donnie seems to be into girls at least so it's the same in the AU, but more specific than that I dunno, I'm not planning on the story really focusing on romance (aside from a little capril because every story needs sapphics that's like the law)
Actually, you know what I find fun? World building! I honestly tend to be more interested in how queer identities are viewed and treated in a story's world as a whole as opposed to induvidual character's identities. Human society in rottmnt seems to be mostly the same as our IRL society, but what about Yōkai society!? With how diverse yōkai are I think it'd be fun if people in The Hidden City just... didn't care about who you loved or what you identified as. As a result of that, I don't think yōkai would care that much about terminology and labels, you just kinda loved whoever you loved.
It'd be honestly be kinda interesting if Donnie and April used terminology that related to queer stuff and Raph, Leo and Mikey are just really confused. Like for example, April is complaining about one of her classmates who's homophobic and the The Drax Bros are just like "Home-phobic??? They're afraid of homes??" cuz the concept of discriminating against someone based on which gender they're attracted to is completely foreign to them. Actually, Leo might be more knowledgable about human queer culture considering he's interested in human cultures in general. He calls himself gay at one point and Draxum is all like "you're happy? good for you?" and he'd just be wondering why Leo is using such an old-timey word considering Leo doesn't exactly have the most advanced vocabulary.
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a friend in need is a friend indeed [bro's 500 — wooyoung]
[fake relationship, fluff, non-idol!au, wooyoung/gn!reader]
requested by: 🌙
in which: you need to enlist wooyoung's help at the very last minute.
word count: 1.4k
content: fluff, wooyoung is the best friend you could ever have, mentions of toxic people who were once in your life, hand-holding, kissing, friends to lovers, some swearing
rating: PG/PG-13 | safe for work!
Honestly, you had a teeny, tiny crush on your best friend. No big deal, but there was no way in hell you were ever going to tell him because you were sure as hell that he didn't feel the same way about you. Sure, you spent a lot of time together, but it wasn't like you were his first priority. Not going to lie, you were convinced that he was dating his best friend, but when he introduced you to his best friend's significant other, you were proven otherwise.
But either way, it was fine. You didn't need to be in a relationship with him or with anyone for that matter. You had enough of your plate. Also, it was enough that you were in his life and he was in yours. That's all you could really ask for because he was seriously one of your best friends.
"Hey, bestie," Wooyoung greeted you as walked up to you.
The two of you decided to meet up near your favorite strip malls that day to hang out. You briefly hugged him before he walked alongside you as the two of you traveled through the city.
"So, what'd you want to do today?" he asked while stifling a yawn.
"I just need to run some errands, and then I may or may not need a little help with some groceries."
"If this is another ruse of yours to get me to cook for you," Wooyoung sighed loudly. "I'll do it..."
"Yay, thank you!"
"Only because I'm sick and tired of watching you eat like a psychopath— can't you at least eat some greens?"
"Only if you cook for me," you responded with a wink.
Wooyoung playfully rolled his eyes, and the two of you continued walking through the city.
You got done with most of your errands fairly quickly, and the two of you ended up hanging out in the food court of your local mall. You were sorting through your receipts while Wooyoung went and grabbed snacks for the two of you, and while you sat in silence— except for Wooyoung's munching of course— you looked up to see two people. And it wasn't just any two people— it was the two people who did you so fucking dirty that it made your heart sink to the bottom of your feet when you saw them.
"Oh fuck," you hissed under your breath.
"What?" Wooyoung mumbled mid-bite.
"We need to leave. Now."
You quickly shoved the receipts into their respective bags and grabbed Wooyoung's shoulder before shuffling out of the food court, your heart racing at the speed of light.
"What the hell, Y/N?" Wooyoung complained. "I was eating!"
"Not now, Wooyoung," you muttered while looking nervously over your shoulder.
"What's the matter with you? You look like you're a James Bond villain trying to avoid James Bond."
"Why am I the villain?!"
"Because that's how suspicious you look!"
You covered Wooyoung's mouth to keep him from shrilling further before taking his arm and dragging him away while still looking over your shoulder. Wooyoung, who finally took the hint and kept his damn mouth shut, followed until there was a considerable distance between the two of you and the food court.
"Okay, let me explain now," you started. "There are two people who were there that I just... They're evil people, Wooyoung."
"Okay, so then why did we have to leave if they're the evil ones?"
"Because I'm scared of them. They said some nasty things, they did some nasty things, and the sooner I can get away from them, the better."
"Y/N," Wooyoung sighed. "You have to stand your ground against assholes like them. You can't be going around looking like the villain if you aren't the villain."
"I know, Wooyoung, but I can't help it. Can we just go now?"
Wooyoung opened his mouth to lecture you further, but seeing the exhausted look on your face was enough to shut him up. With a reserved nod, the two of you walked through the city, and Wooyoung did his best to distract you by taking you window shopping. Truth be told, he hated seeing you depressed, and he wanted to do anything to cheer you up, but how on Earth was he supposed to do that after you saw two people who traumatized the shit out of you?
Luckily for him, you forgot about them pretty quickly. Granted, it was really easy since Wooyoung was acting like an idiot to cheer you up, but it worked. The two of you finished your little shopping trip, and before heading home, Wooyoung begged you to go back to the food court because he was still hungry. On your way there, though, you saw the two people once more, your blood running cold. Wooyoung, however, was oblivious, as he was in his own world complaining about some dumb shit his roommate did to him.
“Wooyoung, can you please do me a solid?” you whisper-hissed to him.
“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m kind of in the middle of accompanying you on your shopping trip,” Wooyoung replied with a smartass comment.
“Shut up. Just do me a solid and hold my hand and let me lean on your shoulder and all that other fun couple shit but not really for like five minutes, okay?”
Before he could even respond, you took his hand in yours and leaned into him as the two of you continued walking towards the food court. You forced a flirty laugh, making Wooyoung actually burst out laughing as you walked past the banes of your existence, nearly shoulder-checking them as you passed them. You continued to walk hand in hand with Wooyoung until you got to the entrance of your destination before looking over your shoulder to see that they were out of sight. Immediately, you let go of your friend’s hand and started apologizing.
“Sorry, I just saw them again, and I… Well, I wanted to pretend and look like I was in a relationship to make those people jealous and think that I’m dating an attractive boy,” you explained honestly. “I mean— You were the one to tell me to stand my ground, and in that moment, that was the first thing I thought about doing, and— I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Y/N,” Wooyoung chuckled and patted your head. “But you know, you don’t have to pretend.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Wooyoung’s voice lowered as he reached for your hand to hold it again. “We don’t have to pretend.”
“Wooyoung, what are you—”
Before you could finish your thought, Wooyoung leaned in and kissed you, his lips pressing gently against yours. It was the minimalist of kisses, but it was enough to make your heart nearly leap out of your chest. He leaned back and was about to speak again, but you reached for the back of his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, this time your lips enveloping his warmly. There was a little more want, a little more passion behind the kiss from both you and him. You pressed the pads of your fingers into his neck a little more when you felt him tug gently on your lower lip, his body moving into yours slightly more.
The two of you shared a soft sigh when you moved away from each other, your eyes darting back and forth as you realized the line you just crossed evaporating into thin air.
“That, uh… That was… Well,” you smoothed out your hair and broke eye contact first, the words refusing to formulate correctly.
“Tell me something, Y/N,” Wooyoung grabbed your attention by tugging you closer to him, his fingers since laced with yours. “Do you like me?”
“I mean—”
“And not as a friend. Do you like me?”
You were still a little lost for words when he asked you, but you managed to swallow the frog in your throat and nod as you felt a hot red blush rise to your cheeks.
“Then you’ll never have to pretend like that again with me. Let me take you on a date.”
“R-Really?”
“Yeah. Although, I think our first date is going to be at the food court because I’m still really hungry,” Wooyoung shot you his cheesy smile, making you push him away while laughing.
“Alright, fine. Food court date it is.”
bro's 500 event | bro's 500 event masterlist
bro's 500 taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @nakiiko @hyukssunflower @aaa-sia
@k-hotchoisan @hwallazia
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
#ateez#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung#wooyoung imagine#wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung ateez#wooyoung ateez#broatz#bro's 500 event#Spotify#atzhouse#cromernet#cultofdionysusnet#newworldnet#wonderlandnet
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Weakness
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Word count: 1,181
Request: Anonymous. you haven’t written for any the boys characters but i was wondering if you could do soldier boy with #60 on the angst prompt? thank you 🩷
#60 “If I loved you, would I really have kept you around? Love is a weakness, I don’t have weaknesses.”
A/N: I've only seen like 3 episodes of the Boys. I watched a compilation of all his sceneds to get a feel for him. Hope I did okay!
Read on AO3
His eyes were on yours. The look on his face was harsh. A look you couldn’t remember ever being aimed at you. “If I loved you, would I really have kept you around? Love is a weakness, I don’t have weaknesses.” His eyes never left yours.
You sucked in a breath, thinking back over to the part year that you’d spent with him. Over a year, in reality. From meeting him, to your first date, waking up in his arms, spending lazy days together, and you felt working towards a life together.
You loved living in a small town. The population sat around 800, and it was perfect. Many of the people you’d gone to school with had left years before, and a few trickled back in with families recently. You owned the local bakery, which was connected to the bookstore. It was a cute little set up, and you both benefited.
Rarely did you ever see a face you didn’t recognize. That all changed a year and a half ago. A man stepped into your bakery and you were floored. He was beyond attractive, and there was no way in hell you would have forgotten a face like his. “Can I help you?” You finally managed as he approached the counter.
He smirked at you before glancing over your display case. “I’ll take two chocolate chip cookies.” He pointed to where they were.
You tapped that into your register, wondering if he was just passing through. Although, no one ever passed through your sleepy little town. “That’ll be $2.” You told him.
“Wow, cheaper than I expected.” He said honestly, pulling out his wallet.
“I try to keep a couple cheaper items on the menu.” You shrugged, taking the five dollar bill as he handed it to you. “Especially for kids.” It wasn’t like kids had a lot of money, afterall. “Are you new in town?” You asked as you gave him his change.
“That obvious?” He chuckled as he watched you move to get his cookies.
“I’ve lived here my entire life, and I know most people. If not by name, then I recognize their face.” Closing up the little bag for the cookies (you’d given him a free one), you handed it to him with a smile. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Welcome to town.”
“I’m Ben, and thank you.” With that, he gave you a small wave and walked out.
Letting out a breath, you couldn’t help but to watch him leave. It was a good view.
Ben had been in town a month, and had been to your bakery a few times. Every time he got two chocolate chip cookies. Nothing else. He liked that you didn’t seem to have any idea who the hell he was. No one in town did. Did they just not care about what happened outside this town? It wasn’t like he was complaining, either.
You were talking to someone when he walked in, and you didn’t look as bubbly as you normally did. “No, Jake.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”
“It’s one date.” The man, Jake, tried again.
“Hey.” Ben snapped. “I believe she said ‘no’ asswipe.” He glared at Jake, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jake shook his head and looked back at you. “Who’s this guy?” He asked, pointing behind him with his thumb.
“His name is Ben, and I’d listen to him.” You told him. “Because he looks like he’s about two seconds away from doing serious bodily harm.” While part of you’d be grateful, you didn’t feel like having to clean up your bakery from it, and you were sure Jake would call the cops.
He glanced over his shoulder at Ben who raised his eyebrow. “Beat it, chuckles.” He ground out.
Finally, Jake walked out, clearly pissed off. Once he was outside, you let out a breath. “Thank you for that. Cookies are on me today!” You told him, going to get him his cookies. “Would you like to try any other flavors today?” You asked, keeping the display case open.
Ben watched you for a minute. “One of your favorite.” He told you, moving to stand closer to the counter. “And your number.” He smirked when you nearly dropped the tongs you were using to get the cookies.
“You…want my number?” You asked, surprised.
“I do.” He nodded.
“Okay.” You agreed, finishing up with his cookies before getting a piece of paper to write it down. You’d never seen him with a cellphone around town, so you didn’t know if he even had one. “Here.” You handed it to him.
He glanced at it, and then slipped it into his pocket. With a wink, he made his way out of the bakery. Your cheeks were on fire, and you were glad to have a moment to collect yourself.
He’d called you and asked you out a couple days later. Your first date had been simple, but perfect for you. He’d taken you out to eat, and then you’d had a walk down mainstreet as the shops were closing. At the end of the night, he’d walked you to your front door and kissed you goodnight. “I hope there will be a second date.” You said, looking up at him.
“Damn right there will be.” He gave you that smirk that just killed you in the best way possible.
“I look forward to it.” You were on cloud nine. “Can I cook you dinner next time?” You asked, hopeful. “I can do more than bake.”
He grinned. “If you can cook half as good as you bake, I’m in for one hell of a treat.” He flirted.
You giggled as you felt Ben’s lips on your neck. His beard tickled you, his arms around your waist holding you close. “Morning.” You said sleepily.
“Morning, honey.” He greeted you. “Wanna make it a really good morning?” He asked as if he didn’t know your answer to that. “Give you some pep in that step while you’re working.”
“You just want everyone to know how lucky I am.” You teased. “You know those little old ladies are gossips!” There were certainly days where your bakery was busier because he was hanging around and the older widows loved getting a good look at him. It amused you, honestly.
He laughed at that. “Then let’s give them something to gossip about.” He moved to roll you to your back.
Now, here you were. Over a year later, staring at your boyfriend. His words ringing in your ears. Blinking, you shook your head. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right.” You breathed. “Did you just say if you loved me you wouldn’t keep me around? Because love is a weakness?” You asked.
“You heard me.” He said simply.
Your eyes watered. “Get out.” You managed, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “Get your things and get the hell out of my house.” A sick feeling settled into your stomach. While you’d been falling in love, you’d been taken for a fool.
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medialog april 2k24
ok. sick day catch up part two
watched
monkey man - this was gnarly and fun and dev patel, quite simply the hottest man ever to live, is upsettingly hot in this film, like SO hot oh my fucking god
white room - this was a VERY weird movie that (as per the filmmaker q & a) totally flopped at a film festival and never received distribution... you can kinda see why but i more or less liked it. it's about a weird sheltered repressed dude who accidentally sees the murder of a mysterious pop star and then accidentally befriends and falls in love with the woman who was actually the reclusive songwriter and voice of the act... the filmmaker described it as a "journey through genres" and it was very artistically ambitious in a way that maybe didn't totally work but it had some really good stuff about art/consumption/fame/women (my jam) and it frequently looked gorgeous and also all of the mysterious/reclusive pop singer's songs were big late 80s/early 90s style upbeat synth-bombast numbers with lyrics taken from emily dickinson poems which is soooooo funny and a great idea
alien - this is like die hard in that if i'd seen it ten years ago i would not really have understood the hype but seeing after i had a backwards education in film by watching all of the mcu movies and developing curiosity about the question of why they were bad and ugly in such distinct ways and from there developing a nascent and unsophisticated appreciation of the filmic qualities of film i'm like, wow what an incredibly fucking well made movie!!!!!! some things in particular i liked were (1) no substantive backstory for anyone, no dark secrets except the one that really counted, no traumatic pasts, no explanation for how this world works or why anyone was here except needing a job, just giving us the bare minimum to understand the situation the characters find themselves in and trusting the story to do the rest (2) very good spaceshippy spaceship (another way it's like die hard is lots of great Texture, another thing that the MCU lacks which like many other MCU traits was actually a totally fitting design choice for tech bro billionaire tony stark in iron man but simply did not need to expand to Everything...) (3) sigourney weaver so good! ian holmes also very good (4) lots of suspense through silence which is one of the most lost of lost arts in the realm of big expensive Cool Shit Happens cinema!
roy cohn/jack smith - this was a filmed recording of two monologues performed by ron vawter, a gay actor who died of AIDS, each in the character of another gay man who had AIDS - the notorious roy cohn & the experimental cinema icon jack smith. i don't really have much to say about it but i feel very lucky to have seen it and vawter was incredible - i'm glad also that he happened to come to our attention a few months ago because he played the therapist in sex lies & videotape.
mad max: fury road - ok i kept putting this off because the way people talked about it on the internet frankly emphasized to an off-putting degree the ideas in this movie and did not adequately convey to me personally the most important thing about it which is that it Fucking Owns Lmao Wow. we happened to pause it for some reason like 50 minutes in and i swear to you i would have guessed 15, maybe 20 minutes had passed, that's how much it flies by... the coolest shit ever, i wanted to live there forever! also lottie yellowjackets is one of the wives????
mission: impossible 3 - the worst movie in the entire world. we only revisited this one as part of our ongoing marathon with some friends and we spent the whole time complaining about jj abrams' totally inept camera work... seriously watch this movie and look out for (1) every time an already fast sequence is torn up with a zillion stupid little cuts some of which actively prevent us from seeing something that could have been cool (2) every time we get to a new location and the camera starts aimlessly drifting to the side literally immediately because he's afraid we'll get bored if we sit in a location for one whole second (3) every time 3 people are having a conversation and the camera spends the whole time just purposelessly wafting back and forth side to side for, i cannot emphasize this enough, no reason at all. literally nothing in this, an installment of the Stuff Looking Cool franchise, looks even a little bit cool even one time. people hate on 2 for the male gaze of it all re: thandie newton but her character has more personality and agency than ethan's sexy lamp wife in this. the closest to a redeeming value this movie has is that it really feels like part of the goal was to remind everyone of how even though tom cruise jumped on that couch one time he's actually a very normal american heterosexual man (he passes out at one point and flashes back to his wife in her underwear sdksoeroser it's SO dumb) but because he's tom cruise (a total insane freak) he can't convincingly portray that at all and just comes across as insane and maybe a sociopath. "what about philip seymour hoffman" i'm not going to give abrams credit for knowing PSH was a good actor, that's like saying defending a doctor accused of malpractice by saying he knows that feet generally have toes. be serious. i will give a shout out to simon pegg, who is in this less than i remembered but who comes across as the MVP (across what should be a deep bench of a cast!) of making abrams' horrible comic-book-bro-patter come across as something a human might say, mostly so i can also share my friend's insight when i said that which is that it makes sense pegg is suited to the task given that he cut his teeth largely on movies that are parodies of shitty action movies.
mission: impossible - ghost protocol - a wonderful and perfect treat :) i've gone on at length about this one before and really have nothing left to say but it's so good and so specifically good at all the things 3 sucks ass at... my friend was physically squirming next to me on the couch during the burj khalifa sequence, as is right and proper :)
read
beautiful losers - this is a novel leonard cohen wrote in the 60s that is very weird and experimental and i'll be real with you and say i did not get it. it's about a guy whose wife and best friend he had a weird sexual relationship with are both dead and now he's kind of obsessed with an iroquois saint... i am not sure how to describe it but i guess i would say if you think the music of leonard cohen is too optimistic and insufficiently horny for you maybe you would like this. it is probably the most aggressively sexual book i've ever read but not in an erotic way... it's very like about the nastiness of sex and bodies... which i admire ideologically on a certain level but it's really quite unrelenting with it... occasionally there are snatches of deeply beautiful writing though.
listened
sourpatch, stagger & fade - nick put on the vinyl of this and i was like oh that sounds nice and i wound up listening to it a bit... fuzzy indie rock (i'm not educated enough to parse genres more finely than that) that makes for very pleasant background listening
ariana grande, eternal sunshine - i've never kept up with ariana because i just find her voice kind of annoying and i had never heard a song to challenge that UNTIL we reviewed "we can't be friends" at singles jukebox and ariana teaming up with max martin to do kidz bop body talk era robyn turned out to be everything i wanted from her... unfortunately the rest of the album was incredibly boring lol. love that song tho!
maggie rogers, don't forget me - i don't know that i find this one as interesting as her last album or quite as likable as her first (although that might be me somewhat overrating her first because i love "light on" sooooo much) but she's such a capital-M Musician she's always a pleasure to listen to. "drunk" was an early fave but recently i found myself returning a lot to "the kill"
girl in red, i'm doing it again baby! - girl in red comes a lot when other people are talking about the g*yl*rs as one of the actual queer artists they should support but first of all they actually love her and second of all i listened to this album twice straight through and have let some of the songs play on shuffle since and i could not hum you one single line :/
taylor swift, the tortured poets department - speak of the devil! i mean i've talked about this. i like this album a lot - at this point i'm ready to call it easily her best work except for maybe folklore, and honestly i find it hard to assess folklore out of what a special lockdown treat it felt like at the time. i don't expect a world insistent on calling 1989 pop perfection to eventually agree with me but i think people will mellow out about it in time and forget that it was so divisive on release much as has happened with reputation (an album far worthier of scorn if not without its occasional merits) and at the VERY least i think in like 5 years it will be more or less consensus that it's better than midnights.
the starting line, say it like you mean it - i listened to this album mostly to fact-check claims i was making about emo in the taylor swift piece but then i kept listening to it cuz it was kinda full of bops!
fall out boy, take this to your grave - @voidofcourse recommended this as a stepping stone from the starting line for loud guys offering bops and indeed it too was full of bops!
other
an enemy of the people - i saw this on broadway, yes, 1000% literally just because my boy my king my number one guy jeremy strong was in it. the production was interesting and good if not flawless, and although i think some of the younger cast members got a little lost in the old-fashioned theatrical language (even in a new translation) and could have used some direction towards really pulling out the meaning of individual sentences they were saying, the more seasoned actors all did a great job, including, of course, jeremy strong, who got to be shoved into a pit and have pretend ice thrown at him, i'm so happy for him. also the play was incredible? like as a play? i said as much here after seeing it but basically it's about this doctor who discovers that the town baths that are about to open have a contaminated water supply that is definitely going to result in people getting sick and some of them dying, especially since they are being advertised partly for their health-restoring properties for people who are already not doing well, and he's like, wow, good thing i caught this thanks to the help of science so we can change plans, and then everyone else in town is like, but have you considered that would be expensive? why do you hate poor people? (there's a thread specifically about the editor of the radical leftist newspaper going from being the doctor's number one champion to being totally coopted out of both politics and self-interest that was particularly brutal to watch...) like it was truly SO incredibly specifically relevant to some Extremely Contemporary Issues that i was just agog and also it was incredibly fucking upsetting to watch! really really great playwriting, such a clean example of how a work can best encompass & comment on ideas by developing them through character and dramatic action rooted in wants, needs, choices, conflict, etc., a lesson many people could stand to learn. i kept thinking it had burrowed as deeply into the core issues as it could and then it found another layer. this ibsen guy... he really knew some stuff about stuff....
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I think Amangela and Shourtney are really carrying Smosh right now. I know it probably only seems that way just because they're so heavily featured in videos as of recently, but the energy they bring to videos is unparalleled, especially when they're together. This isn't meant to throw shade on the rest of the cast members, because they're all very valuable to the cast, but it seems like everyone else is on the backburner. I feel like people outside of Amangela and Shourtney don't have that same pull in videos.
I don't know if that makes sense, or even qualifies as an unpopular opinion, lol. I'm just speaking my mind I guess
i totally see where you're coming from! personally, i don't think that amangela and shourtney are carrying more than the other members. i know loads of people (me included) love changela, for example, and their friendship dynamic becomes the highlight of a lot of videos they're in. and i know ianthony fans ride hardddd for the boys and love when they're in videos together.
amanda and angela are def in a majority of the videos now (almost every single one). it's possibly because they've become full time employees? it seems both of them have permanent desks in the smoffice. though, i'm not complaining at all (i'm a certified amangela lover)
it's kinda like how shayne was always seen as "smosh at 99% power," which i never really agreed with. don't get me wrong, i love him in videos, but i never thought he did more/was funnier/more entertaining than the other cast members, particularly courtney, whom i've always loved.
but also, i stopped watching smosh around 2021, so i def missed all the content from saige + ify and a bulk of kimmy + jackie too. that was the time when views started to dip and i guess shayne was the main draw to smosh, like how you see amangela and shourtney now.
personally, i'll always watch any video that's got my core 6 in it (amanda, angela, shayne, courtney, chanse, and arasha). i will say, arasha is the one out of everyone that seems to be put on the backburner the most, but she's also busy with her side projects ("the spitball podcast," "how i met your masi," etc.)
(what smosh opinions are you defending like this?)
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You are so right. For the first time ever, I block quite a lot of my moots in twitter and tumblr. I can't believe all the things they said about BNHA (especially Izuku). Personally, I love all the events until now. Do I have complain here and there for a certain characters? Yes, of course I do, but that does not made me hate BNHA. Izuku is a great character and one of my favorite protagonist from all media....Also, as BKDK shipper, I love all the canon moments between Izuku and Katsuki (sorry if maybe you're a fan of Izuku but dislike bakudeku ship).
You know I don't hate IzuOcha ship (I think it's kinda cute) but I do dislike most of their fan right now. One of my ex moots said, "Damn with this events in BNHA. F*ck, at least Midoriya will end up with Uraraka. If somehow Midoriya don't end up with her and only thinking of Bakugou, damn I don't follow this series for the gay sh*ts...."
Like, I'm mad and sad when reading that... For me, I wish Izuku don't end up with anyone at the end of the series (as much as I love BKDK ship, I know it's impossible to be canon). Don't you think it will be funny if there is plot twist and somehow Ochaco end up with Shoto?
That very last bit right there. "... I wish Izuku don't end up with anyone at the end of the series", that?
I've felt that exact feeling since I got into BNHA.
You and I mostly do have the exact same feelings.
Starting with the ships, neither I have a problem with. I have ships just as much as the next problem, but the past year or so has taught me that when it comes to ships, some people don't actually see the characters as individuals and only seem to care about that characters for the sake of their ship.
Which sucks because I feel that takes away a lot of understanding the story. When you don't understand the character's story from their personality to their backstory to their growth, most likely you're not going to understand the overall story.
I hate seeing things like "Well, at least Uraraka will end up with Midoriya" because that just tells me that the person is maybe here for the shipping and that's it and don't care about either character.
Like, why are people so eager to see Uraraka become a wife and have kids? She is a, what, 16 year old girl who wants to be a hero! I want to see her be a hero!
And look, I know BakuDeku got some amazing moments together and some really would make someone go "I ship it". I don't hate it, some of you who followed me long enough know I don't. But at the same time, let's acknowledge they are separate characters. Yes, they're almost like a package deal because they've been in each other's lives since forever. They're going to be intertwined like that.
But come on! How about individually?? Midoriya became my favorite easily and not because of Bakugou.
Like, again, I'm for shipping. I got my ships. But it's not the ships that annoy me (unless otherwise like... *shivers*), it be the shippers.
And yeah, sometimes for any story I read I may have a complaint or two, but I will never understand people who built their whole blogs around "critiquing" and nothing else. Like, damn, how fucking perfect you want the story to be?
In fact, write a story that doesn't get anyone coming at you with something they don't like about it. Impossible. Because someone is going to have something they don't like about it.
Those people will have "takes" and then I just know they have read the story at all. They would miss details or misinterpret the characters how they want them to be looked at and still have no idea what they're talking about.
This fandom, some of the people can be fuckong switch ups, I swear.
So first, Midoriya is too emotional and a crybaby and it's obvious that his flaw was just emotional driven he can be. But now it's a fucking problem he's expressing his emotions at an appropriate time? It's a damn issue he isn't crying for a gag?
Y'all got to be fucking kidding me. This is the same fandom who at a time didn't give a damn about the villains. Who were like "they don't deserve redemption, they should die" even after learning their backstories. And now y'all want to advocate for them? Actually mad even though the story is not even completely done yet?!
I wouldn't say I'm an expert on BNHA or any story I read up. At the end of the day, I am just a fan who happens to be very entertained. I'm here to have fun. But the way this fandom, that fandom and every other fandom be acting makes me feel like I'm reading some whole other manga, watching some different copy of an anime.
[Note: okay, I did giggle at the thought of Horikoshi doing that with Uraraka and Todoroki. I doubt it would happen and I'm not saying it should... it's just funny to me because just yesterday I was thinking something similar with two different characters.]
#kiya answers#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha spoilers#midoriya izuku#izuku midoriya#deku
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The controversial post that I mentioned on my birthday (aka Tuesday, this post is going up on either Thursday 11pm or Friday asscrack of dawn)
The purpose of this post is to clarify a variety of things just in case I go missing Friday afternoon, but due to certain events on my birthday it turned into an exposé + vent post. Even with such circumstances, I hope you can take away some knowledge about me and other people from this post.
WARNINGS: Private matters that have already been dealt with either a few days or even months ago that I’m needlessly bringing to light, mentions of death threats, and lost of fucked up shit in general.
Saii (@/monochrome-cropcrown) dismissed a really violent meltdown I had the day before my birthday and tried using her visit to the hospital as an excuse for not giving a fuck or even bothering to read not even 1 message from the 1 hour worth of distressed and downright concerning messages I had spammed her with an hour and a half ago. We got into a screaming match and she blocked me, but a few hours later she unblocked me, and started harassing me with messages basically victim blaming me for not being god and being unable to control my emotions, then blocked me again before I even had a chance to respond. Here is evidence:
That being said, I also have to take accountability for the horrible shit i said during my mental breakdown. I admit I made threats of physical violence against Fukui Takumi, wishing he’d slip down his stairs and bash his head into a wall, and I apologize for that. I was far too wrapped up in my emotions to realize I was saying overall horrible things aimed at someone that doesn’t even know who I am, and I apologize deeply for that. I’ll try to find better coping mechanisms to avoid this type of situation next chapter drop.
@/huntersmoon1 traumadumped on me multiple times despite me clarifying that I’m a neurodivergent and seriously mentally ill teenager just as many times, and she’s a grown woman in her late 20’s/early 30s that should be getting a therapist instead of telling some mentally unstable minor on the internet about her family’s problems. She also infodumped to me about useless things, even after I have told her I am not intrested in the slightest about anything she’s telling me about. She blocked me after I complained about another one of these needless infodumps, unblocked me after Mina’s exposure, we both mutually apologized for our mistakes, and she proceeded to block me again.
Shortly after Mina’s exposure as a groomer, @/praisethesuuun made a post saying that I shouldn’t be on the internet just because I have BPD symptoms and I’m also a minor.
My mom neglects me and verbally abuses me and my dad is a creep that always disrespects my boundaries, has tried to SA me when I was around 7-9, and this week he stole the conditioner my mom bought for me (after refusing to buy me a new one for the past 3 weeks).
The verbal abuse from my mom started when I was around 5-6 years old.
My mom also held off on buying me toothpaste for 4 weeks, and I was stuck using probably expired toothpaste for over a month.
My school feels more like a North Korean labor camp rather than a school. My homeroom teacher is a bitch, as of the time im writing this post she has threatened to smell each and every student’s ARMPITS (With the most psychotic smile on her face, too) MULTIPLE TIMES. The school’s practices are no better either. Oh what’s that? You didn’t do this easily forgettable and completely useless and unnecessary homework? Oh I’m so sorry, your exam score is an automatic 0 now. Most teachers are so strict that I almost developed a crush one the one teacher that was actually cool.
ALL HAIL KENDRICK LAMAR 🙇🙇🙇🙇
Tags: @aresarmyblog @rukia-writes @amphitriteswife @micah-drew @mizz-sea-nymph @miyahsart @cherry-froese @riseofamoonycake @incorrect-record-of-ragnarok @itz-hellenz @swallowtail-lotus @the-gentlemen-jack @sibchatactics @onecantsimply
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little scrapped comic bc it felt a bit ooc to me in hindsight
#tbb#the bad batch#the bad batch season 2#the bad batch season 3#tbb tech#tbb omega#i was worried that this wouldn’t really come across as i intended#i’ve heard a lot of people complain about the characterization of tech in fanon#they make him a lot less capable than he is in canon just because he is the ‘nerd’ of the team#which i totally agree with#so i didn’t want it to seem like i was doing the same#i just think that tech would have a difficultly expressing some of his vulnerability around his brothers because they are so often stoic#(and frequently make fun of one another)#and omega might be the first person he feels comfortable in letting that side of him show#idk#just a sweet idea to me#anyway i decided i wasn’t going to finish this because of my fear of being misinterpreted but i did like how these sketches turned out#so here :)#a little treat#mods art#my art#mods draws#star wars#sw tbb#star wars the bad batch
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astarion origin playthrough worth it just for all the extra moments where he does the "sad wet cat" face
#bg3#bg3 spoilers#thoughts about media#astarion#*kisses his forehead* my awful little bastard man... i love you and your big sad watery eyes.#IT'S SO FUCKING QUIET THOUGH IF YOU YOURSELF ARE PLAYING HIM GOOD LORD#I'M SO USE TO HIM COMPLAINING TO MY TAV!!!!#OR BANTERING WITH HIM OR KARLACH OR WYLL!!!#I MISS HIS THEATRICS!!!!!!!#not that it's ENTIRELY quiet. until i found karlach i was travelling with shadowheart lae'zel and gale.#and let me tell you. gale and lae'zel do NOT shut the fuck up if they are together.#they were literally having an entire tinder date while we were trecking through the woods to go get karlach.#i NEVER knew they talk so much because while i've travelled with them individually in past saves...#...i've NEVER had them in my party at the same time!#gale is actually pretty nice to lae'zel! he asks a lot of questions but doesn't condescend her as he does others sometimes.#that's probably because he's afraid of her though. I would be too were I nothing more than a wizard with 8 strength.#I do like how you can look at pretty much any two companions and get a well written and generally enjoyable dynamic!#It feels like they considered that a lot of people would want to maybe pair off the companions they didn't romance with each other!#and wanted it to be easy for really any pairing to work... if a person just paid attention to their shared interactions.
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