crush-itis

[crush-itis]

◞ ◟ 𑁬　﹒　❛　Beauty and the Beast　　𓂂

　 ˖ ˚ ׄ kurapika x female!reader 　ᛝ. 　　 𓈒ㅤׁㅤ 　　 hxh, fluff, angst ܃ ׄ 𓈒 𑂯 ᕬ ᕬ 𓈒ㅤల 　 ۫. ׄ ִ ׄ 𓈒 𑂯 ㅤㅤㅤ. a/n writing collab with @crush-itis

⸝⸝ ⋅˚₊‧ — ˙ . ꒷ 🌹 ˙ . + ˙— 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

𓊆ྀི mini playlist ﹕ strangers　heaven knows　owls eye　when the sun hits　lovesong　use your heart　you're mine, you! 　treehome95　𓊇ྀི

Chapter One

A thunder roared, growling in the abyss.

The tall, wet grass crunched against the boots of a lost man.

He walked through the wet woods, struggling against the hard rain as raindrops fell rivulets down his messy hair.

He inhaled the musky scent of rain, and his faint cologne.

He had taken a wrong turn on the way home; he consequently ended up getting lost and searching through a forest.

He could already hear his wife saying "Roman, your home late again?" and his daughter pouting that he was gone the entire day.

He was struggling to find shelter, but to his surprise, he stumbled upon a whole town.

He noticed people were home judging by the lights that emitted from the inside.

He chuckled in disbelief before knocking on one of the doors, seeking temporary shelter.

A few seconds passed, and the door creaked open.

The moment it opened, the smell of dinner, and dessert wafted to the man’s nose.

His nostrils flared, and he looked down.

It was a little boy.

He looked up at the man, doe eyed.

He had blonde hair, and a blossoming face.

“Hello!” The little boy then took him inside.

Soon enough, he was invited to dinner with the Kurta Clan.

He has heard of them, but seeing them up close gave him an idea.

A lightbulb appeared above the man’s head when the little boy’s parents’ eyes gleamed a Scarlet red.

When it was time for bed, the little boys’ parents gave him a room to sleep in.

“How kind.” The man thought.

It was only about time when he slipped outside, and into the kitchen.

He took the kitchen knife stored in a drawer, and tiptoed to the parents’ room.

The floorboards creaked underneath his weight, and the thunderstorm crackled outside.

The purple streak of thunder glowed on the man’s face, and before the couple could take another breath in their sleep, they found their eyes dissected by the very man they took in.

The darkness enveloped the man’s mind, and he scooped their eyes, and put it away into a jar.

He was sure he could make a profit off them.

Their eyes could serve as interior decoration, or perhaps an ornament for Christmas trees.

As the man finished his business, he turned to the exit only to find the little boy’s bloody eyes—glaring daggers into his own.

The man would’ve never thought he’d see him again after a couple of years had passed.

Another rainstorm broke out in Yorknew City.

The weather reporter on the TV addressed the incoming storm, and the rainy season continuing until the 30th with the usual monotoned voice.

While the TV played in the corner of the ceiling, Roman was peacefully working in his office—finishing up piles, and piles of paperwork that he was assigned from the government. (Roman had connections from the government officials)

It was just another day of finishing up endless work for Roman.

What's new was when suddenly a thick rope of chains crept down from the ceiling, trapping Roman into tight bondage.

Roman gasped, his eyes widening at the new turn of events.

The pen he held fell in his hand had rolled down on the rugged floor.

Soon enough, Roman was taken into a dark room, strapped in a wooden chair, bound in chains.

He was duct taped in the mouth to prevent him from screaming for help.

He tried to flail his arms around, struggling against the chains that only tightened even further.

Tears were about to fall down his eyes when a flame flickered from a lighter.

Deep, Scarlet red eyes met his plain, brown orbs.

These red eyes were lucent in the darkness.

Their pupils were like waning full moons.

Roman had even caught a glimpse of their lashes coated in subtle tears too.

Roman held his breath when the flame suddenly went away.

"You are going to tell me where the eyes you stole from the Kurta clan are." The bearer of the Scarlet eyes demanded him.

Then the lights were flicked back on, and Roman was met with a boy around his 18-19 years.

He had shoulder-length blonde hair, and a determined, angry—enraged expression plastered on his face.

Then a disgusted, pitiful frown smeared across his lips before he reached down to roughly peel off the duct tape off of Roman's mouth.

A few hairs from his mustache were caught painfully on the sticky surface.

Roman squeaked, his eyes wide in total fear.

"Tell me!" He yelled, making the chains grip around his shoulders, squeezing his body tight into a claustrophobic cocoon.

Roman coughed, and choked from his merciless chains.

"Do you remember me?" The unknown boy’s voice wavered a little.

"Im, I'm not sure." Roman stammered, confused.

His eyes were only adjusting to the newfound light.

"What about the Scarlet Eyes you stole?!" His voice cracked.

Then at that breaking point, all the memories from the past came rushing back into Roman's mind like a strong gust of wind blowing into his face.

The sounds of the kitchen knife he held stabbing, and dissecting a couple's eyes from the Kurta Clan echoed in the back of his mind.

The feeling of slimy, blood-coated eyeballs he cupped in his palm, and shoved in a jar flashed in his head.

The look of the young boy with blonde hair, and bloody eyes gushed back into his chamber of memories.

"Im sorry." Was the only thing Roman managed to choke.

Kurapika's own eyes widened, and for a second, his red eyes turned back into a muted grey.

His tensed shoulders slumped, and the chains slithered away from Roman, leaving him stumbling off the chair.

Kurapika turned his head away from his oppressor, and sighed disappointingly.

Roman grunted, and tried sitting up.

He rubbed his injured head, and looked up at Kurapika.

The tables have turned.

The little boy who once looked up at the man with the bloodied knife that night was now looking down on him.

Kurapika's anger seemed to have subsided, but it was quickly replaced with a look of pity, guilt, and an indescribable feeling of emptiness.

Roman was weak compared to him.

He had no knowledge of the power of nen unlike the Phantom Troupe...

But he was still the man who took his parents' life.

Kurapika snarled, and chained up Roman once again—making sure he wouldn’t escape.

"Your weakness has no excuse for your horrible actions; I will never forgive you."

"And now you will tell me where the eyes are or you will be taken captive." Kurapika warned him.

A deathly gleam flickered in the bright of his red eyes.

He gritted his teeth, and clenched his fist around the chains.

"I'm sorry! I sold them off to a jewelry company for a collaboration..." Roman's voice grew into desperation.

Roman broke into tears when he suddenly thought of another despicable idea.

He wiped his tears then cleared his throat.

"You can take my daughter as a captive..." Roman suggested in a panicky tone.

Kurapika could only gasp at such a proposal.

He raised his hand, and slapped Roman across the cheek.

What a pathetic excuse for a father.

Blood drizzled from Roman's busted cheek.

He coughed up red, and he sniffled his snot.

He weeped, and wiped his tears and trickled snot away.

Kurapika threw Roman, and after being thrown to the floor by the familiar face, Roman tried to manage his breathing.

Coughing, he cried sputtered out; “Please take my daughter, not me." Roman attempted to get up and plead to Kurapika, but was quickly kicked down once again.

Roman cried out in pain, no longer trying to defend himself.

"Fine." Kurapika scoffed irritably, looking down at his mess.

"Give me your daughter, so you could feel the ache I felt when you took my parents away." Kurapika raised his voice at the word “my” before he then suddenly shot a chain with a cross charm into Roman's heart.

Roman yelped, and coughed even more painfully.

He gripped his chest where his heart was located, and cried harder.

"This is my Judgement Chain. It will pierce your heart, and kill you if you decide to deny or violate my issued command." Kurapika explained.

Roman couldn’t believe it.

“Give me back the eyes you stole, and your daughter in the airport by midnight."

"But if you don't, you will certainly die." Kurapika spat angrily.

Roman gasped, and panted in alarm.

He sulked, crying a big puddle on the floor.

And at that moment, Kurapika had disappeared into the shadows.

Roman couldn't get into all the trouble obtaining the eyes back, that much he knew.

He only had his daughter to give.

In your bedroom, reading romance novels, and whatnot, your father knocked on your door.

"Come in!" You teared your gaze from the lettered sheets to the exit.

The door creaked open, and Roman looked at you with a weird look.

You blinked.

You couldn't read his emotions, but something was telling you he had done something wrong.

A weary expression curled in his face as he explained the whole situation to you.

Your eyes widened at the revelation.

But, of course, as kind as you are, you agreed willingly.

You smiled, and patted your father's back.

“I’ll gladly take my dad's place."

And so it was settled.

You were dressed in another set of clothes (suitable for your new life as a prisoner 🥰😂🤍), and walked with your father to the airport before the clock struck midnight.

You walked inside, and when your father's eyes met Kurapika's...

Roman fell headfirst into the floor, dead.

He didn't bring the eyes.

No, not at all.

But he did bring you.

Then Kurapika’s eyes met yours,

unblinking, reddened furiously.

You couldn't believe your father just died from a beast.

🌹

Seeing your father lying on the floor, you felt a shock of terror run through your body.

Remembering the details your father had given you, you started to run away while also fumbling with your stubborn phone a few times before calling the police.

Tears started to pool in your eyes, and looking back caused a blur of colors to appear.

You could make out the colors of security guards, but the most prominent of all was Kurapika following behind you.

A calming melody played behind you, filling your mind with ease.

You stopped running, and even though tears still streaked down your face.

You turned around with your eyes squeezed closed, ready to face the beast—with bravery, and determination.

Opening your eyes, you were met with an unfamiliar face standing in front of Kurapika.

The stranger with a unique appearance started to talk. “Come with me.” she told you in a quiet tone. Even if it was such a short sentence, her voice relaxed you, which made you give in to their plan.

Kurapika glared at you.

The two of you skipped the basic introductions.

He already made up his mind about what your name was.

You were the monster’s daughter.

Arriving in a black car—sheen by rain, Kurapika entered the driver’s seat while the stranger sat in the back.

Assuming you take the passenger seat, you went around the car to enter.

Buckling up, you felt the tense atmosphere crushing down as the tranquility left you.

Awkward silence floated in the air; the only sound present were the tires screeching against the cement.

While you thought of it, you felt the anger that radiated from Kurapika’s body.

You fearfully took a peek at his hands that gripped at the steering wheel.

He was furious, it was clear.

You could read him like a book.

A sad, tiny frown curled in your lips.

You wondered how much pain he endured.

You weren’t sure what to do.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

Going to take it out to see who it was, Kurapika gave you a quick side eye to see what you were doing.

The screen displayed “Neon”, a friend who you knew because of your father's connections.

“How do you know Neon? “ He inquired suspiciously.

“She's my friend, I know her because my dad is co-workers with her dad.” You answered timidly, finger hovering over the ‘decline’ button.

“Answer the call, and put it on speaker.” Kurapika ordered, keeping his eyes on the road while occasionally glancing at your phone.

Hesitant, you press answer.

“Hey, it's been a while!” Neon cheerfully exclaimed. You could feel her smiling from the other side of the phone. “It's me, Neon! We haven't talked in foreverrr!” She chirped, dragging out the last part of her sentence.

“Hi…” You mumbled awkwardly. “... how have you been?” You questioned, trying to put a little more energy in your voice.

“I've been alright, but you know that auction? My dad won't let me go! He says ‘it's dangerous’,” Neon mocked his deep voice, “but I really wanna go! I literally begged him, but he still said no!” Neon rambled. You could hear her pouting through the speaker.

“Anyways, since he won't let me go, I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover! My father already said yes, so come over!” Neon urged you playfully.

“Uh…” You looked at Kurapika for confirmation. He shook his head ‘no’. Tentatively, you spoke out. “Well my schedule is kind of full. It's not a good time right-” You were cut off by Neon's squealing.

“Kurapika? Did I hear that right? Kurapika is with you? I didn't know you were dating Kurapika!” Neon gasped.

The lady in the backseat looked abashed, rubbing her neck awkwardly. It seemed like she had whispered Kurapika's name a little too loudly. Kurapika gave her a sharp side eye.

“No…?” You were a bad liar.

“I don't believe you!” Neon exclaimed in a teasing manner.

Kurapika shook his head in disbelief, “Yes, I'm here with her.” He sighed in defeat. “She can't go to your sleepover.”

“But why not!” Neon whined. “Pleaseee?” She groaned.

“No, she can't stay today.” Kurapika pinched his nose bridge in annoyance.

Neon got defensive. “If I'm not able to have a sleepover with her, I guess I'll just have to ask my dad to fire you.” She threatened him.

“Fine. She can stay.” Kurapika exasperated. You wondered if Kurapika was a bodyguard for Neon, since your last call with Neon ended with her telling you her dad was looking for bodyguards for her.

“Yay, thank you! I'll see you guys soon!” she optimistically said before promptly hanging up so no more argument could happen.

Kurapika took a hard turn, letting the Nostrade's family mansion come into view.

At least you knew you weren’t going to die tonight.

[crush-itis]

⑅ ౨౿ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐜　 ⁺⁠⁠　🪽　　

𓎟𓎟　　feitan 　୨　songstress ! reader　୧　．

@benadryl-lover255 I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ORIGINAL DRAFT AND I CANT FIND YOUR ASK ANYMORE IM SO SORRY

Feitan was a monster.

A killing machine with a mind of its own.

Bystanders deemed him addicted to killing.

The way blood trickled down his bare hands, and the way the smell of deceased, filthy corpses reached his nose added more fuel to his bloodlust—he never felt even more alive.

The more he hurts you—the more he shatters your fragile ego makes him tremble in excitement, and arousal.

That was, until your little whines, whimpers, and pouts got to him.

He had you pinned down on the ragged bed, snickering as he bruised the side of your waist with his merciless, steel grip.

You cried out, struggling to push him away.

You arched your back, whimpering as he continued his torture.

It was all so funny, and exciting to him.

Until you started mouthing his name, trying to speak.

He wasn’t an expert in reading lips, but he was sure you were trying to say his name.

He felt his resolve die down, and his eyes softened.

His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment the two of you locked eyes.

You were just staring at him, giving him the look that shook his heart.

His brows furrowed, knitting downward before he clicked his tongue, and shifted uncomfortably in between your legs.

He released his painful hold on your waist, and reached to hold you by the neck.

He flexed his fingers around your throat, glaring daggers at you.

You shivered in fear—quivering beneath him.

This unknown, strange, and unbearable feeling enveloped his whole being.

He didn’t even have the power, or strength to hurt you anymore.

His eyes widened, and he pulled away from you.

As he left, he slammed the door closed on his way out.

He needed some time to think about what just happened to him back there.

You blinked in confusion from the sudden tension between you two.

You weren’t certain why he decided to stop hurting you that day.

You were even more surprised when he didn’t give you any attention the day after.

He’d only given you a glance before rushing off to a place far from you.

He felt awkward around you.

Whenever his eyes dipped down to your battered, maimed body had him feeling chills rush down his throat.

Did he actually feel bad for once?

You were strapped to the bed as usual, sleeping as you had cried yourself to sleep from the pain last night.

You snoozed peacefully underneath the dark, not having an ounce of care for the world.

The door to your little “bedroom” creaked open, revealing a familiar, short silhouette.

It neared your sleeping, unconscious body.

Hours passed, the clock ticked, and you finally awoke from the sun’s ambience, and warmth pecking your face.

You noticed you were all patched up, and your broken limbs seemed to be stitched back together.

Your eyes widened, adjusting to the bright light when suddenly, Feitan’s face came into view.

He looked at you, and pulled down his scarf.

He leaned in, and began kissing you as usual.

He made sure to shush your pitiful whines up by forcing his tongue inside your mouth right away.

He rubbed himself against you as your mouths ate at each other.

Feitan went through all the trouble learning how to nurse you, and begging Machi to heal you.

After what felt like a good ten (or more) minutes of kissing, he pulled away, and spat into your mouth.

He couldn’t help himself when it came to your throat.

It was delicious.

Even when your tongue was too loose for you to speak, your saliva was good enough for him to arouse his mood.

You were so surprised.

He kissed your patched wounds, and gently caressed your hair.

He was so gentle, and soft with you.

You wondered what went through his head that day; the day that everything changed.

You were about to celebrate this newfound miracle when he unexpectedly blew a punch across your face.

You weren’t anticipating that move at all.

You gagged, and coughed up blood in the process.

He held so much power against you—you quiver at the mention of his name.

You wiped off the shared saliva smeared all over your lips, and whimpered.

You looked at him, and yelped in fear.

He was trembling, quivering in disgust.

He must be shocked by his own actions as well.

He looked down on you with frustrated, aggravated eyes.

Feitan spat on the floor, breathing heavily.

What an awful, excruciating feeling for a monster.

Perhaps guilt was the ultimate device to weaken Feitan’s resolve to kill.

It was so revolting for him—he had almost puked.

Your eyes widened at this sudden behaviour.

You reached to gently pat his back, but he only swatted your hand away.

He stood up, and left again.

Your heart raced, and you sat up, blinking in confusion to the sudden halt of his cruelty.

You were just beginning to develop an impervious body due to his harsh nature against you.

You also didn’t want to admit it, but you were kind of already missing his pinches paired with his rough kisses.

Time passed, and Feitan hardly visited you anymore.

Even the troupe members wondered why.

You staggered toward the biggest room of the hideout where everyone hung out.

You weren’t allowed to move around or go outside without Feitan’s assistance when he used to order you around, but you took advantage of his absence to see what the whole building looked like.

You limped toward the centre, blinking around.

You wondered if anyone was home today.

You were certain Feitan wasn’t.

You weren’t all that powerful—nen wise, and you also didn’t bother learning how to use the aspects, or how to utilize one of the four elements’ application “gyo”.

You only bothered to learn when you heard your nen type could bless you with the ability to speak, and break free from the clutches of a loose tongue, and a muted body.

Unfortunately, your ability was stripped away from a man Feitan called “Boss”.

Besides that, you weren’t aware of the “non-existent” presence lurking around you.

The too-big, white button down shirt loosely draped down your shoulders as your sloppy gait continued toward the left side of the dark, grand room.

“Who are you?” A woman’s voice echoed from behind you.

Before you could turn around, you felt teeth from what seems to be emerging from a vacuum cleaner gape around your already-battered neck.

You let out a tiny gasp when suddenly another face appeared from the darkness.

“Don’t worry, Shizuku, that’s just Feitan’s little girlfriend.” It was a man wearing a high ponytail, dressed in a haori.

You blushed at such a title, but thankfully the woman’s vacuum cleaner didn’t eat you.

The woman hummed, releasing you from her grasp.

“Sorry, I didn’t know Feitan had a lover.” Shizuku patted your shoulder.

You smiled sheepishly in abashment.

You wanted to protest, but of course, you couldn’t do that without a voice.

“Don’t you remember who she is, Shizuku?” Another voice showed up.

They had a deep voice, and a face of many stitches, and scars.

You awkwardly stood between the many members of the infamous troupe you hardly know about.

You assumed they were all Feitan’s little friends.

After a while of the legs conversing around you, the man with the high ponytail—that you soon learn his name, Nobunaga, asked you, “Were you wondering where Feitan is?” You shook your head as a response.

“Why, you guys broke up or something?” Shalnark giggled at his own joking remark.

You weren’t sure on how to respond to that.

“That’d be a shame. He was really obsessed with you.” Machi rested her chin on her palm.

You nodded in agreement.

“Yeah! I was surprised. He never showed any interest in dating.” Shalnark added on to it.

After that, the members began to open up on how they reacted to Feitan’s fondness for you, and how they thought about your relationship with him.

Most thought you guys were cute in a way, and some assumed that you two already had sex.

But what the members all had in common was that they all claimed that Feitan just shows his “love” in a different, and eccentric way.

That made you wonder how you really felt for Feitan.

You weren’t sure how to feel about your relationship with him anymore.

Night began to fall, and the waning moon began to make you sleepy.

A thunderstorm had even erupted alongside the heavy, merciless rain.

You went to your “bedroom”, and laid on the bed that Feitan used to strap you on.

You were just about to sleep when a roaring streak of thunder lit up a familiar face.

You blinked, and sat up.

Feitan had suddenly appeared.

He was sitting on the bed next to you.

He looked into your eyes, and you almost caught a glimpse of his reddening face.

He suddenly grabbed both your cheeks, making you pucker your lips.

You whimper, gingerly puckering your lips.

Your eyes widened when he suddenly whispered something into your ear before he made out with you.

“I’m sorry.” he growled in your ear—his voice full of guilt from his past actions towards you.

You blinked in confusion.

You would’ve never expected him to apologize, but your tension faltered, and you kissed him back.

When the two of your guys’ relationship progressed with every kiss he planted on your body, and every rude remark he spat, it all blossomed into an adolescent form of love.

An unknown love was born, and Feitan began to realize it when the feeling of guilt, and pity creeped into his heart.

He was scared of such a feeling.

He thought it’d ruin his life.

But it only just freed him from the shackles of evil, and unremorse he was feeling until now.

However, it was still hard for him to resist the want to kill.

You were only an exception.

As Feitan apologized that day, he nursed you, and tried to love you like a real man should.

He isn’t the most knowledgeable when it comes to pleasing women, sometimes he’d slip, and punch you without hesitation.

But, of course, he mutters a sloppy, awkward apology after.

The result of his newfound love for you even gave you the will, and encouragement to make you learn a new ability.

You learnt how to talk again through nen.

But your voice didn’t manipulate others to swoon for you, this time, your voice changed the bloodlust of others into peace, and made them want to do good—to choose to be virtuous.

However, Feitan still swooned over you, and your voice.

You still had your singing intact, and that made him all the more obsessed, and addicted to you.

Then one winter night, Feitan wanted to surprise you.

He took you out on a lavish date, and wore a formal suit that he definitely didn’t steal from someone.

However, he did put in the effort to pay for the restaurant bill (just for you).

He eventually felt the guilt after, but he brushed it off.

Then for the main event, he brought you into a dark, secluded place.

He closed your eyes, and smiled softly before he put his hands away from your eyes.

“Welcome home.” He gently nipped your ear.

Your eyes widened.

He really meant “welcome home” when he brought you back into your real bedroom.

His eye twitched as the many shades of pink in your bedroom assaulted his eyes—how girly.

“Wow!” You were so shocked.

You rushed to bounce on your bed, feeling the fluffy mattress blanket around your body.

Feitan smiled, and joined you in your bed.

The missing posters of you were finally called off when you came back home.

You had never seen your dad streaked with tears until that day.

Your dad brought you into a tight hug, blubbering with many questions, asking you how you got lost, and everything.

You chuckled, patting his back as you dried your dad’s tears.

A week passed after the father, and daughter reunion, and you were back on stage, singing away, and of course, Feitan was the first to get tickets.

He even brought (forced) the troupe to come along, and watch you sing.

Front seats, and all—watching you with eagerness.

Your groupie is a maniac (for you).

sorray if i rushed it 😓😓 im a sucker for happyendings so im sorry if it sounded like a cheap fairytale book you’d find in a cornerstore, love yew benadryl-lover255 🤍😂

[crush-itis]

　　　૮꒰˶ - ࡇ •˶꒱ა ֵ   　ׁ　𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐜　ᰵ ˒

　　 ⠀ ֺ feitan　❤︎　songstress!reader ⠀౨౿ ⠀⠀˙⠀⠀˖⠀‎

part one

You sobbed so much you cried yourself to sleep.

It was unreal.

You couldn’t bear to believe this was all real.

You wanted to speak.

You wanted to sing.

It was all you had.

The next morning came, and you awoke from something roughly pulling your hair.

You winced, and gently opened your eyes to see Feitan’s face again.

He cornered you in this ragged twin bed, trapping you in his muscular, steel grip arms.

You sulked, squeezing your eyes closed—anticipating another blow on your cheek.

Your neck was so sore.

It was covered in bites; both fresh, and wet, noticeable hickeys.

Feitan wrapped a hand around your throat, and squeezed each time you winced.

“I want to hear you sing.” He growled into your ear before pulling away.

You blinked.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

Feitan was staring daggers at you, waiting.

You began to cry again.

Feitan rubbed a thumb on your bottom lip before turning around.

“Boss, give back her voice.” He pointed at your mouth.

You hear the familiar voice before responding, “Why?”.

“I like it.” Feitan reached to pinch your throat.

You squeaked, and wriggled underneath him.

“Just listen to a recording of it.” The voice replied back.

You figured the voice that replied was the one who stole your voice.

You were growing to despise whoever that was.

A nasty frown curled in your face, but it quickly disappeared when Feitan turned to face you again.

A sad frown tugged on your lips when both your eyes met.

He stared down your irises, and reached to brush a thumb on your lashes.

He blinked, and his eyes dipped down to your chest.

He then began to murmur something to you while feeling your lashes.

You blinked in confusion.

You’re not sure if he was speaking the same dialect from before, but you couldn’t really decipher what he was mumbling about.

You looked intently to his eyes before reaching for his hair.

In a swift motion, he had already caught your wrist before you could even touch him.

You held your breath, and you felt warmth rush to your cheeks.

“Feitan, you’ve been with her since yesterday.” A sinister chuckle came from the entrance.

Feitan scoffed, and ignored them.

He must really like you.

Feitan began to graze his teeth against your neck, groaning at the intimate contact between you two.

He was so desperate to hear your voice.

He reached to hold your waist, now nibbling on your throat.

A soft whine elicited from your mouth, and you slowly let your guard down.

You wondered how battered your neck looked.

Feitan usually pecked the spot before he assaulted it with punches.

He bruised your lips, and licked your wounds.

You were his new toy.

Feitan was obsessed.

He had even taken you out after the troupe separated on their own ways.

He never had a girlfriend so he wasn’t familiar with the ordinary romantic atmospheres like the usual café dates or the fancy restaurant dates.

You were stumped when he brought you on a killing spree “date”.

At first, you wanted him to compromise.

But of course, his threats were enough to stop your futile attempts.

Your sore legs affected your gait as you walked alongside him.

He held your hand, making sure you wouldn’t slip away.

He wanted to walk you to where your date would take place.

You wobbled next to him, reluctantly holding his hand.

“Look.” Feitan suddenly stopped, and pointed at a boutique’s window.

There was a black, shimmering gown being displayed on a mannequin.

It was one of those gowns you used to wear for your shows.

You blinked, wondering what’s the big deal with the dress he showed you.

“I want you to wear it.” He rubbed your thumb, and brought you inside.

Feitan flipped the “open” sign to “closed”, and killed the cashiers, and all the other customers present in the store.

All because he wanted you to wear the dress without having to pay.

You were beginning to realize how terrifying, and threatening your new “boyfriend” is.

He waited outside the changing room while he nudged a lying corpse’s head off the floor.

You tried zipping up the back of your new gown, panicked if he’d blow another punch on your face if you didn’t hurry.

You struggled with the zipper, making the strained little noises Feitan loved.

Feitan crossed his arms, and glanced at the clock.

How long should this take?

He opened the curtain, and blinked at you struggling.

You looked at him in the mirror, and blushed as the back of the gown began to peel off, almost exposing your lower back—your assets.

Feitan’s eyes softened.

“Let me help.” He walked inside, and zipped up the dress for you.

He rubbed the curve of your waist, and patted your hips.

It was very snug on you.

You caught a glimpse of him smirking underneath that scarf.

Your cheeks reddened at that.

You didn’t even expect him to kiss you too.

He went in for it, roughing up your lips as he squeezed your waist.

His hand dipped down to your rear, and forced his tongue down your throat.

You moaned, whimpered, and sighed.

The both of you were doing all of this right in front of a bunch of corpses.

Feitan was enamoured by you.

Your voice was especially his favourite feature.

Your tongue was splendid against his.

You were submissive, though a bit irritating at times.

You were his greatest treasure.

He had even stolen many beautiful things for you.

The things he’d usually want for himself.

He was smitten.

It was so unordinary, and perhaps a bit unsettling for the other legs to see.

They all thought they had been dreaming when they caught a glimpse of Feitan roughly smacking his lips against you while pulling your hair—torturing you whilst simultaneously making out with you.

It was one of the rare times they’ve seen Feitan give out affection like this.

headcanons

　♰　:　Not only does Feitan think your voice is so attractive, he’s also obsessed with your face. Your singing was one thing, and your beauty was another. He’d rub your cheeks before punching your face, and stripe a wet tongue against your black eye. The idea of wounds on your face serving as makeup delighted him.

　♰　:　Feitan often compares you to the Little Mermaid. It was another one of those childish, fairytales, but you really resemble the Mermaid Princess. The pararells between the fairytale princess, and you piqued Feitan’s interest. That brings him giving you the petname “Mermaid”, or “Princess”.

　♰　:　Feitan makes sure to always rub his scent on you as a form of ownership. You were his, and he made it clear to the other members. He always became paranoid whenever another spider would wrap an arm around your shoulder.

　♰　:　Makeout sessions were intense, and horrific. He always had a knife, or a sharp blade with him too whenever you two kissed. He loved the sounds of your squeals, and panicked screams whenever he pulled out a knife, drawing it down your chest or your thigh. Choking was also something you had to go through. The pained look in your face mixed with pleasure was something Feitan was very much into. He had the weirdest kinks.

　♰　:　Feitan listens to recordings of you singing on stage whenever he showers. Showering becomes masturbation. Feitan would even bring you into the bathroom with him if the recordings weren’t enough to pleasure him. He wanted the real thing. He’d pin you against the tiled wall, making you squeak or whimper in every way possible while he washed his parts. He’d even make you wash a few of his assets.

　♰　:　Feitan doesn’t care about fashion, but he admits that he prefers black dresses on you. Your usual pink, girly style is cute, but the dark, gothic look on you was hot. He’d fiddle with the loose strands of your hair whenever you had it done. He’ll inhale your chest when you’re wearing clothes that expose off your cleavage. Feitan also enjoys playing with your earrings. Hoops were his most favourite. It gave him many chances to yank your ear off painfully. But he aways made sure not to add too much damage.

sorry for the late post!! i just travelled back to the philippines, and ive been going on a lot of shopping sprees 😓😓 i hope you liked it tho!! 🤍🤍 @hearts4rinrin

[crush-itis]

⠀ ⠀ ‎⠀ ♰ ⠀ ‎ ‎ ‎˙⠀⠀˖⠀‎ ⠀ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐜 ⠀ ⠀⠀˙⠀⠀˖⠀‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎

‎ ‎ ‎ feitan portor ♥︎ songstress!reader

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ׅ⏝ׄ⏝࡛⏝ׄ⏝‌୨‌୧ׅ⏝ׄ⏝࡛⏝ׄ⏝ׅ

suggestive, violent, mentions of kidnapping

Your voice was everywhere.

It was mainstream—top listening voices ever in York New City.

You sang in stages with your figure fitted in satin dresses, pink frilly gowns, white veils, and anything gold or silver.

You were the face of songs, and anything feminine or pink.

You were also known for sitting on a rose laced swing on stage, singing with the organ or orchestra.

Your voice emitted melodies that differed from any normal singer.

Your voice soothed nerves, anxiety, and stiff shoulders.

After all, this was your special ability.

You had a cadence that left people turning heads towards you.

It wasn’t so interesting or important at first, but the thought of people who despise you could easily have their knees shaken with just a few words you say—your ability could actually be useful at times.

The stages that made you star were filled to the brim with all the seats occupied with souls eager to hear you sing at least one ballad.

Just anything that was relative to you talking or singing was enough to make someone swoon or sigh.

Not only were you popular for your enamouring, and enchanting voice, your family were even kin to the government officials.

Your name held status, and power.

Something the Phantom Troupe would want to deflower.

However it would be difficult for them to take your wealth away.

Your voice was one thing, and your name was another.

Bodyguard, after bodyguard from all around the world, protected every inch of you.

Especially your voice.

Your voice was a trophy.

A medal hanging on your parents’, and music hall industries’ necks.

Feitan was especially enamoured by you.

This is explained when one of the Phantom Troupe’s missions required slipping into one of your shows.

Their target was one of your loyal fans, and often watched you from the back seats.

He had a whole bag of valuables stored away in his residence.

What’s great about this mission was that it had a perfect setting, and atmosphere for an assassination.

That was truly something the troupe wanted.

They tiptoed into the operahouse, wearing their polished disguises when your voice reached their ears.

You were singing on an aerial hoop, and you were just dazzling all over on the stage.

Your hair was done beautifully.

Your dress was donned with pink flowers down to the train.

It draped along the slim column of your legs—pooling on the floor elegantly.

Your fingers gently clasped around your microphone, and you sang your most favoured andante.

You usually closed your eyes when you sang because it helped you focus on your inner core, but you wanted to peek at the audience a little.

You wondered what kind of people were your fans.

“What are the things they wear?” You often thought to yourself.

You blinked, noticing the variety of people on the balcony seats.

Your gaze traced towards the faces smeared with stoic looks.

You wondered if these were your fans.

You caught a glimpse of one of the gloomy, snarky looking boys’ shoulders slump in relief, and relaxation.

That particular group on the balcony seats all had a similar style to them.

Dark, and mute colours, gothic aesthetics.

It was all different to your appearance that assaulted everyone’s eyes with your pinks, light fabrics, and sparkling jewels.

You slipped, and you accidentally let out a giggle between the rhythms of your legato.

The audience hushed, and you heard a bunch from the back seats fainting.

It was an honour to hear you laugh.

Meanwhile, the Phantom Troupe had almost forgotten all about their original target.

Their eyes widened.

It was hard to resist this immaculate power that radiated from your throat.

They felt their butts practically glued on the stolen seats.

They wanted to watch, and listen more.

It’s not everyday a lady could soften the nerves in Feitan’s heart.

The warmth, fuzzy feeling was short lived however.

Chrollo turned to look at the other legs with a smug look plastered on his face.

It was clear what the Troupe was after now.

Your voice.

After your show, you curtsied, and smiled into the crowd.

It was another melodic night for your fans.

You slipped into the backrooms then left to go back home.

You sat on your carriage, patting a powder cushion on your nose as you looked into your reflection on the tiny makeup compartment.

The day had proceeded like any other day for you.

You were now dressed in your nightgown, and you combed your hair that was still a bit slick from your rose petal bath.

Then you applied your body lotions that left you smelling like paradise.

You hummed one of your tunes as the candles lit your room into a soft, peaceful atmosphere.

The flame feathered your face while the waning moon kissed your features.

Your damp tresses fell to your shoulders, and then you heard it.

Your parents were discussing your performance, and the deal with your sponsorships.

Your interest was sparked when they mentioned your patronages.

You flicked your gaze to the entrance of your bedroom.

The Phantom Troupe on the other hand was already planning a masterplan to steal your voice.

The music industry’s prized possession.

Feitan watched the other members discuss the plan.

His eyes dilated when your name was mentioned.

So that was your name?

Your name suits your face was what Feitan thought.

He pondered for a moment.

Something about you pulled him in a trance.

It was certainly your voice, and perhaps it was also something else too.

But he couldn’t put his finger to it.

Maybe it was your pretty face.

And that was something rare for Feitan to think about or even admit.

“Her voice could be put into better use than singing away on a stage.” Chrollo adjusted his collar in the dimly lit room.

“Right.” Another member replied.

Feitan blinked.

“When we see her again?”

“She has another show coming next week.” Machi clarified. “I saw on the posters hanging on the walls.”

Feitan hummed, and nodded.

He wondered if you sounded even more beautiful if you were at his mercy, screaming at the top of your lungs.

The adrenaline manifested in his veins, and he felt himself clenching his fists.

His fingernails poked, and probed his skin.

Blood pricked down his palms.

It’s about time he heard an attractive, hoarse screech mincing out of a mouth for once.

Well, it was settled then.

Everyone was looking forward to your next show.

And this time, it was going to be in the biggest music hall in the city.

Your patrons will be watching on the stand lines.

Your face will be on every article, and bulletin.

The whole city was buzzing about your next performance.

And so was the Phantom Troupe, anticipating your grand reveal before they steal your everything away from you.

On the day before your show, you were on your way to the library, alone.

You wanted some to go outside alone.

You felt isolated in that little room of yours while also having to worry about these pressuring voice lessons, and voice warmups.

You made sure you wore your disguise perfectly.

And you also made sure you didn’t talk at all.

Just a few simple nods, and shakes would do it.

Stepping into the library, your lips curled into a soft smile as the bookshelves, and stacks of books hanging around came into view.

You liked reading this particular genre, and you just so happened to see your favourite book’s sequel you haven’t finished reading yet on the top shelves—unfortunately.

You looked around the room for any stepping stool, but there weren’t anywhere.

You hummed, and looked away for a moment when you suddenly heard the sounds of small wheels rolling toward your way.

You turned around, and saw the missing stepping stool (with wheels) you were looking for.

You blinked.

Wow, it was just what you needed.

How surprising.

You wondered how it found you like this.

Feitan was stalking you from the dark corners.

He was quenched.

He was thirsting to hear at least one sigh come from your mouth.

He drastically changed that day when he heard your singing for the first time.

The cracks, and ripples in his heart were unravelling each time you sang a music note.

Gosh, his broken English could possibly even improve if everything sounded like you.

You sat down on a table with your book, and read silently.

The room was empty, but full of books.

Most of the readers preferred the other side of the room.

Feitan’s tongue dragged along the crease of his bottom lip.

He stared down at you before he walked away from the crests of the darkness.

His heart skipped a beat when he caught himself.

He’d get a whooping if he proceeded.

But he just couldn’t control himself whenever you’re near.

He liked your voice.

He was obsessed with it.

The stark contrast between his, and your’s was overwhelming.

He only wanted to hear you in his mind.

He cracked his knuckles.

But again, his thoughts stopped him from continuing.

A part of him confronted him.

He will be able to do everything he wants if he waits for tomorrow.

And so he did.

On the front seats.

Just like Feitan wanted.

He wanted to see you up close as much as he wanted to hear you sing.

Today, you were extravagant as always.

You were the epitome of beauty.

Your voice could say the same.

Feitan doesn’t know much about love, but he firmly believed this obsession for you stemmed from that.

He chuckled under his breath as he watched you sing.

You were singing this high note that scratched the right parts of his brain.

Your hums made him feel warm.

And his blood rushed toward his favourite vein.

One of the legs nudged his shoulder as if to grab his attention.

He was definitely going crazy over you.

It was the rarest sight for the Phantom Troupe.

You were singing a few pieces tonight.

You were still on your first one, wrapping it up with one last note.

You also noticed the same people from before now on the front seats.

You found that kind of funny.

You glanced at the orchestra below you before flicking your gaze back to your audience.

“This next piece is called ‘Romance’. Your guys’ favourite.” She smiled, and then her eyes dipped down to Feitan.

Feitan almost exploded.

His heart was screaming to take you.

He wanted to smear that smile off your face.

He was getting too eager to feel, and touch you now.

Just what was this?

Then he felt a harsh pinch on his thigh coming from Shalnark.

He shook his head, and felt the stars warping around his head vanish.

You were like a siren, and Feitan was about to fall for your tricks.

Machi handed Feitan a pair of earplugs, and subtly pointed at the backrooms to join the rest to start the mission.

Feitan was a bit hesitant at first.

He was tempted to listen to you again, but if he did, he would probably lose himself.

…

He reluctantly took the earplugs, and disappeared to the backrooms.

So this is what the backstage looked like.

The other members had already knocked out the recruiters too it seemed.

Feitan stared at your back from the side.

Your gown had a V cut on your back that revealed most of your nape, and down.

Feitan breathed in your lingering fragrance wafting throughout the whole room.

Your perfume was pleasurable.

You were too oblivious, and naïve to feel the weight of Feitan’s stare.

Then the lights suddenly went off.

You blinked at the sudden change of events.

The whole orchestra halted, and you looked behind toward the backstage, wondering what had happened.

The audience shifted, and murmured amongst themselves.

“Oh, I’m so sorry guys,” you called out, trying to calm the whole situation with just a few words.

But it seemed the screams that erupted from the balcony seats had torn the rest of the audience’s attention away from you.

You yelped, and you found yourself abducted, and taken away into the rough hands of Feitan.

He called dibs to take you away.

No matter how much you struggled, you only received a crackling slap as your punishment.

The consequences were severe.

You yelped, and you were now shoved into a tight space.

You caught a glimpse of your kidnapper’s appearance before he closed the trapdoor.

You took note that his face was mostly covered with a scarf.

He had felt your throat, and lips all over.

You shifted, and squirmed in this dark, tight place.

You couldn’t scream for help because of the gag inserted in your mouth, and your whole body was bound in those merciless ropes.

It felt like they were made out of steel.

You cried, sulking away in that box of isolation.

You soon woke up in another dark room.

A pair of lips were pecking your throat.

Hands painfully gripped your waist, it bruised.

“Goodness, when are you done? You can’t hog all of her.” A voice called out.

Your eyes were all blurry from your tears.

They were half opened, and you tried looking down to see who this was with their hands all over you.

You wanted to sob, but you couldn’t.

You were exhausted, and sore everywhere.

“She’s mine.” The man who peppered your throat with kisses growled back to the other voice.

This is what fame leads to, huh?

You began to break out into tears all over again.

The members were hushed, watching you.

But this only encouraged Feitan.

“You waked.” He whispered in his hoarse tone.

He pulled away to look at you.

And for a moment, both your eyes met.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

Your voice was gone.

This made the man before you smirk smugly.

It quickly turned into a grin, and it progressed to an evil laugh.

He cackled, and sent a fist flying to your cheek.

You squeaked, coughed, and cried.

You tried rubbing your cheek that was now red in pain, but again, you were bound.

You struggled, sulking away as the many pairs of eyes watched you intently.

How did this happen?

You couldn’t speak at all.

Your voice was gone—your nen was stolen.

You were born mute after all.

“She still makes noises though.”

Feitan hummed, now rubbing your nape.

He nipped your throat, and groaned at the taste of your skin.

It was as pleasurable as hearing you sing songs.

Your groupie is a maniac.

Sorry guys if this was like inaccurate i havent watched the anime in years or like read the manga 😓😓 part two is out!

[crush-itis]

　　 🐚 ᵔ⠀⠀ THE GYEONGSEONG MERMAID ! !⠀⠀◞⠀⠀⠀ 𓈒

❛❛ 𝐘𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐧í𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐚, 𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐚, 𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐮𝐧 𝐝í𝐚 𝐭𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬 𝐭ú 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐨. ❜❜

　 ㅤㅤ◟ spoilers… ; fluff, angst ノ ⠀ 𓈒۫⠀˖⠀⠀ꕀ haesu song ⠀x⠀ su-a heo⠀𓈒⠀ 🪷　꒰𓏼´ `𓏼 ྀིᥩ　 　 　. a/n　 i cant cope with the fact theres 0 fanfics 𓈒۫⠀˖⠀

　 　　　. 　⁺ 　 　♡ . 　⁺ 　 . ♡ . 　

𓊆ྀི mini playlist ﹕ no queda más　la mentira　oyayi　televangelism　suite from the little mermaid: happy ending　you say that i’m crazy　the thrill of loneliness　𓊇ྀི

　 　　　. 　⁺ 　 　♡ . 　⁺ 　 . ♡ . 　

Haesu’s P.O.V.

After I finished saying my last, and final words “Long live the independence of Joseon”, I gripped my stomach, taking my last breathy sigh before the gunshot made a clean exit through my skull.

Black.

Blank, and silent.

Lonely, and putrid.

It felt as if the waves of the stubborn ocean floor had taken me away to a far off land.

I heard a thunder cry—whispering lamentation, and woe into my ears.

Fear pierced, and prickled through my skin as cold water clothed my body in a blanket of tethered hope.

I gasp for air.

I can’t see anything at all.

Dark orbs paint my mind, and a vision of my youth flashed through my eyes.

For a second I see Nokju waking me up.

Ah, Haeyeong is there too.

It was so quick, and so sudden.

I found myself at the mercy of the waters draping my soaked body.

Sweat trickled down my black tresses.

My eyes widened at the blurry sight of this lady.

My nostrils flare at the familiar scent infused with the musky beach fragrance.

I try to grasp at the image further, but I faint before I could rub my eyes.

Su-a’s P.O.V.

I gasped as this strange man fainted into my lap.

I had thankfully saved his suitcase before he lost hold of it in the crashing waves.

My heart raced, as I carried him off into a little cave I found—tucked, and hidden away from the city.. and the prying loquacious Japanese.

I sighed, trying to think of a way to save this poor man.

How did this man even get trapped in the sea’s grip?

I gave him one last reassuring glance at his sleeping face before rushing to my Master’s manor to grab a few medical things: a wet cloth for his forehead, and soft linens to keep him comfortable in the harsh conditions.

As I walked out with the things in my hands, my eyes widened at the sight of Dr. Kim!

I tried to explain the complicated situation to Dr. Kim with a stammering, determined voice—pleading with him to help the man.

Dr. Kim didn’t seem convinced at first.

He looked away from me for a second before finally agreeing.

I led him to the shore where I kept the man safe.

Dr. Kim inspected his health, and he advised me that this man is probably suffering from hypothermia.

I bit my lip at that before cushioning the man’s back with the bedding I brought.

Then I placed the wet cloth on his forehead.

He was still breathing as I had given him CPR a little while before.

I let out a relieved sigh.

“Su-a.” Dr. Kim called out.

I blinked, and looked at him, “Yes?” I responded.

“I don’t think this is safe… what if this was the fugitive? The one who shot the policemen last night.” Dr. Kim uncomfortably shifted on the rock that served as his seat.

I frown a little, “No, I don���t think this man coulda done anythin’ that.” I fiddled with my moist, clammy fingers.

That couldn’t be.

How could a man like him do that?

He was just caught from the sea’s merciless knots.

“He’s innocent.” I choked.

“…”

Dr. Kim’s lips curled into a soft smile before standing up.

“Alright.” He patted down his lap before continuing, “Well, take care of him for a while. I have to look after the other patients.” Dr. Kim nodded before going off.

I waved him goodbye, thanking him again before turning to look at the strange man.

My brows furrowed.

His face was heating up bright red.

I reached to gently cup his cheek to feel his temperature.

As my fingertips gently brushed along his jaw, he caught it in a swift motion, staring right at me with darkened, cat eyes.

I jumped in fear.

Haesu’s P.O.V.

My eyes widened.

Holding this familiar warmth in my palm…

I looked away, coughing up what seemed to be my saliva.

I covered my mouth, and blinked at my shaking hand flicked with the specks of my drool.

“Oh, are you okay? I have water..” Su-a handed me a flask.

My heart was racing.

I couldn’t let her hand slip from my grasp.

“Are you okay, Su-a?” My grip firmed around her hands.

I’ve never been this desperate to know about someone’s wellbeing.

She was supposed to be with Comrade Uihyeon in the carriage at the very moment.

She was supposed to be getting medical care right now.

I grab my side where the gunshots were supposed to be.

I gasped, before I reached for my head.

Nothing.

Su-a blinked.

“How do you know my name?” She was just as shocked as I was.

I felt my heart skip a beat.

Su-a was blushing now.

Her heated breath wafted on my face, and I just chuckled in disbelief.

I reluctantly let go of her hands.

Now why did my head feel so heavy?

Su-a’s P.O.V.

The man was weird enough.

He had gone about in the waters, flailing his arms around in the thick liquids.

Thankfully I had found him before he could meet the potential, and unfortunate fate in the wrathful, apathetic ocean.

But the moment he said my name as if he was familiar with who I am…

The way his eyes softened when he met mine…

His lashes sweeped against his cheeks, and now I found myself caressing his head in my lap.

I pat his back in a soothing motion.

He had fainted again.

I pondered on how he knew my name, and why he spoke to me like he knew me.

My face was beet red by now.

This man could not be trusted.

But good gosh.

The way he gave me that look had me covering my face.

I gently clutch on his limp thumb as I fiddle, and muss his hair.

It felt like I should know this man.

Somewhere in my heart told me that I have hidden things about our non existent relationship with each other.

hi guys i wanted to try something new especially since i just recently read and finished this manhwa 😂🤍🤍 guys i hope yew like it and i might make it into a series if this oneshot goes well 😂😂😅😅🥰🥰🤍🤍

(this manhwa was a horror movie bro i actually couldnt breathe as i sobbed i was like drowning in my tears i actually coulda died..)

[crush-itis]

i love your writing sm! makes me go warm and fuzzy, your blog is so cute as well... id cry tears of joy if you'd write something about sebek... perhaps something about him admiring and looking up to his beloved and ghem just completing each other... 💚

໒꒰ೆ ◞ ◟ ꒱১ FANTASY TURNED SHOUJO ! 𝜗𝜚

⊹　 　✤ 　fluff, twst sebek x gn!reader ﹒ 　

(HI I AM SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK LONG TO POST THIS AND IM SORRY IF ITS NOT CHARACTER ACCURATE 💔💔💔💔💔 i dont really know sebek that much im sorry guys 😔😔😔😔)

The life of being a Night Raven student is like diving into a world of fantasy, and mystery.

Magic is everywhere, and the face of adversary could be lurking right at your doorstep.

The life of living in a Twisted Wonderland is unpredictable.

You could never expect another to transmigrate into your world.

You could also never expect your life—your entire goals centred around learning magic, and praising your young master could spiral, and twist into trying to get your newfound crush into liking you back.

At first, Sebek was dumbfounded that he had actually fallen in love with that one student that had claimed they did not live in this universe, and possess magic-less talent.

He had been pacing around in his bedroom, contemplating about this compromising position he is in.

There was no way.

No way that a crazy person like you captured his heart.

He could have never expected he’d fall for a person with no magical abilities.

At first he denied it, practically giving you the cold shoulder every shared class you have with him.

But he had to admit you were cool—crazy cool you managed to soothe the ruffled feathers of the overblotted boys in school.

Especially Malleus.

To think you could save his hero.

His life went from an unrealistic fantasy to a romantic reality.

His loud, beaming voice would always hush whenever he noticed you were near.

His cheeks would blossom a bright red colour, and his heart would hammer away the moment his nostrils flare at your familiar scent.

He wondered what perfume or hair conditioner you used that made him so flustered.

He looked up, and admired the way you did all of these cool things.

He used to think it was worthless, and stupid for someone magicless to be attending a school that is all about magic, and sorcery.

But he changed his mind when he realized your character meant more than being a mere human without having any magic imbued inside you.

Yup, the freshie who is known for his loud mouth would always go silent near you.

He just can’t help, but have his lips zipped sealed when he sees you passing by.

And perhaps if you’re listening carefully, you’d hear the romantic, pop melody of a shoujo opening play in the background.

He becomes speechless the moment your presence is acknowledged because even mere words can’t describe how he feels about you.

While he is silent, quiet, and flustered when you’re close by, behind closed doors, his heart is screaming as he scribbles in his notebook.

Just in the midst of his studying, your face would pop up in his brain.

He’ll even accidentally rip his homework into shreds in frustration.

He really likes you.

You’re cool, admirable, and your kindness towards everyone else makes him shiver in love.

[crush-itis]

[crush-itis]

perhaps more... elliott? 👀💕 maybe mornings with elliott.... 🤍

🐛 ໒꒰ೆ ◞ ◟ ꒱১ 𓈒 ゛ ‎ ‎ ‎MORNINGS WITH ELLIOTT ‎ ! ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ ‎ ‎ ‎

　 . (＞ ＜　　🍎 　fluff, suggestive, elliott x gn!reader

⏖　　sorry for the short, and late post, im busy with school :(

Elliott is often the big spoon.

He loves how your form would mold against the hard planes of his chest.

He’d gently push your face snug against him, and wrap his strong arms around your waist while tracing lazy circles on your back.

He’d do this until you’d fall asleep.

And when you’d wake up, you’ll feel the bright morning sun kiss your skin along with Elliott’s soft lips peppering your neck.

It was sweet hearing his sultry, deep voice whisper into your ears.

“Good morning,” is the first words that enter your ears.

Elliott always wakes up before you.

He’ll prepare you a wooden tray on your bed breakfast, your favourite tea or coffee, and a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Sometimes you two would prepare breakfast together.

Those times were fun, and comforting.

He’ll make your usual bacon, and eggs, and position them into a smile—the sunny side ups made as the eyes, and the bacon curved into a crisp, lop-sided smile.

But if the both of you decide it’s a lazy morning, he’d push you against the mattress, and insist you shouldn’t leave him in this lonely, big bed.

Lazy mornings for Elliott is when he’s too tired, and groggy to get up, and make breakfast.

He wants to stay, and be with you under the sheets.

Maybe he’ll be willing to share a heated kiss with you beneath the covers.

He’ll intertwine his hands with yours, and kiss you until you’re breathless, and panting for more.

His sleepy kisses are slow, but pleasurable.

It’s like you were already having breakfast.

Your cheeks would burn, and your heart will flutter from abashment when he pulls away from the kiss just to tell you a recited poem.

[crush-itis]

your blog is super cute and aesthetically pleasing :3

THANK YOUUUU 🤍🤍🤍🤍 bless your heart i love you

[crush-itis]

hi an anon here! not a req or anything but i love your elliott works u might just be THE elliott writer 🤍

THANK YOUU I APPRECIATE THAT SO MUCH CUZ HES SUCH A HUNK HES MY FAV CHARACTER 😅😅😓😓🥰🥰🤍🤍🤍 i love you btw

[crush-itis]

hello! i love your blog's aesthetic sm its adorable 🥺🤍 i was wondering if could request smth with elliott from sdv! extremely heavy fluff on things he'd love to do with the farmer on diff seasons and little things he'd savor and appreciate during those seasons together with his beloved <3 tysm

⠀⠀✎⠀⠀⠀SOMETHING FOR EVERY SEASON !⠀(◡ ‿ ◡ 。)

　　　 　　∿ ⑅ ᭡ 　　୨　elliott x gn!farmer　୧　．

　˚ 🥕 ⌣ sdv, elliott, heavy fluff, hcs　　𑁍ࠬܓ ⠀ 　　⠀ 　 ၄ 　　⠀ ͚⠀　₊　۫ ⠀ 🐄 ⠀ ܸ⠀ ˙ 　　۪۫ 　 　 ◜ 　﹒ ⏖ 　a/n: thank you !! youre so sweet 🤍

　　　　　 　 　　┈┈ ୨୧ ┈┈

𓊆ྀི mini playlist ﹕ pretty little baby　mai　 roi　misty　amore mio aiutami　glue song　show me how for lovers　summertime sadness　every many gets his wish　𓊇ྀི

ㅤㅤ⊹ ִ ׄ ׄ 𓈒 ㅤspring 𓂃

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott loves to spend spring with you the most. It was the month of having floral-themed gifts stacked in your doorway. He’ll prepare pressed letters, frangented bouquets, and write love ballads that praise your beauty, comparing both your dynamic to a florist, and a lovely garden.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ While your work increases with the farm during the spring, so does his want, and yearning for your touch. He’d insist on cuddling after your shower, wanting to spoon you, and wrap you in your shared quilt.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ As mentioned earlier, Elliott loves to cuddle with you in bed. He’ll press his nose against your soft, sweet smelling hair, twirl the strands, and squeeze your hand till it gets all clammy.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Even when the two of you are already married, he’d still ask the obvious “would you come with me to the Flower Dance this year?” He’d even give you the pleading look as if “no” was an option. When you say “yes”, in an instant, he’d start preparing the grandest bouquet of flowers just for this occasion. He’ll wow at the dress/suit you’d be wearing; his eyes practically heart-eyes at your striking beauty.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ He likes to make the warm season warmer with you in the couch, laughing, and tickling your sensitive sides under the covers. He appreciates, and savours the touch of your skin, and your company the most when you’re busy.

ㅤㅤ⊹ ִ ׄ ׄ 𓈒 summer 𓂃

ㅤ ✿ ܃ The time of the year where Elliott loves to have beach dates with you. He likes to pick out your swimsuit, and loves to match summer outfits with you. He thinks stripes, straw hats with satin ribbons, polka dotted tops, and a soft colour palette would look cute on you.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott invites you to eat fresh fruits, hearty sandwiches, and dessert with you at the beach. He’ll spoon feed you, cooing at your sweet face, and teasing the way you chew. Sometimes, he’ll purposely smear crumbs or frosting or jam on your face just to lick it after. He’ll hug you then, smiling while pressing chaste kisses on your head.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ He enjoys doing chores with you, especially washing the dishes, and blowing bubbles into your face. He’d laugh after ruffling your hair. Then he’ll take a bath with you, washing, and scrubbing your back then lathering your soaked tresses.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott loves taking you out to the Moonlight Jellies event. He’ll let your head rest on his shoulder as the two of you watch the shore glisten, and sparkle as the migrating jellyfish appear. He’ll even tease you, saying he thought you were one of the jellyfishes , glowing below the ocean level.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott also likes to collect seashells with you during your little beach dates with him. Then he’ll make them into matching necklaces, clasping them around your neck after. Elliott appreciates, and savours the gift of being with you in the hot summers, most especially the chilly, summer nights where the both of you could count the stars, and share a kiss under a waning moonlight.

ㅤㅤ⊹ ִ ׄ ׄ 𓈒 fall 𓂃

ㅤ ✿ ܃ It was another busy season for a farmer. Elliott would voluntarily leave his workplace, letting his journal dust away while he helps you out with the farming. He’ll provide you souvenirs for your hard work, massaging your back while he whispers sweet nothings, and words of encouragement into your ears.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott loves apple picking with you, and trying all sorts of new, unheard of apple recipes after. The two of you would explore the endless pages of your shared cookbook that the two of you plan to be your future, family heirloom.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Like both your interest in exploring the endless sea of recipes, you two also liked to explore, and navigate a corn maze. However, Elliott wasn’t the most intelligent when it comes to wide, and extreme labyrinths… so the two of you would always end up being stuck, and facing dead end after dead end.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ For some reason, fall is always the season where Elliott picks up different kinds of hobbies. He’ll learn knitting, crocheting, painting, and even glassblowing. With all of these new things he learnt how to do, he’ll share his newfound wisdom with you when you have time, and make you something sweet with it. Elliott appreciates, and savours the times when the two of you learn something new, and craft something heartfelt, and special with it.

ㅤㅤ⊹ ִ ׄ ׄ 𓈒 winter 𓂃

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott’s second favourite season to spend time with you. Well, it is certainly the month of your rest, and your much-needed break, it’s also the month of Elliott clinging to you the most. Whenever the two of you would go out, he’d stuff you up with a thousand scarves, dress you with two different earmuffs, and thick, layered winter gloves. He really cares for your wellbeing, and won’t let you go out without proper winter attire.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott’s crocheting, and knitting hobby became really useful for this time of the year. So he made another, thicker, and colourful quilt for the two of you to share. The moment he finished making it, he couldn’t help but make you a sweater next. He laughed at the absurdity of you wearing an ugly sweater. When he’s finished with the last stitches, he’ll make you wear it then tease you, and boop your nose after.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Elliott loves to have hot chocolate with you during this time of month. He’ll smile at you blowing your hot treat then go outside to have a silly snowball fight together. He was always gentle, and weak with his throws though, as if he didn’t want to hurt you. And when he does accidentally hit you, he’ll rush to you as if he was experiencing a crime scene for the first time, wide eyed, and scared for your health. Then it reveals you were just teasing him.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ For the first time, Elliott participates in the Festival of Ice, and carved an ice sculpture of you. You were his greatest muse in everything; he’ll never get tired of making you the centre of every creative genre in art. The way he carved you in ice made it seemed like he was a time traveller from the Renaissance period. And since you were free most of the time now, his ideas, and poem prompts thrived. His notebook of love ballads, sonnets, limericks, and of course, free verses was pretty much finished before the end of the year.

ㅤ ✿ ܃ Then when the moon rises, the sky darkens, and it gets chillier in your shared bedroom, the two of you would go under the new quilt Elliott had made, and watch the stars gleam outside the arched window. Elliott would then tell you stories while the two of you stargazed, then move on to show you that he could see constellations form your wonderful visage. When you take a glance at him, his face is a bright red. Elliott appreciates, and savours the coldest time of the year the most when you’re near; the cold month where he’ll embrace your proximity with him, and make you his first, and last, greatest muse.

sorry if it isnt character accurate i love you

[crush-itis]

　𓎠𓎠　૮ ꒰ིྀ ♡‸◟꒱ིྀ ა 　 What Does it Mean to Wed Elliott ?   𝜗𝜚

 　　　　　　　　﹕ ︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

　 𐔌  .   sdv, elliott, short, fluff, suggestive, pregnancy !  

𓏹ㅤ ⊹　　　౨౿　　 Elliott x Farmer ﹒ 　︵︵　　　　　　𓂋 ⠀ ⠀ ܸ⠀ ˙ ⠀🍎 ⤷ hop into the world of romanticizing !  ⠀ ܸ ⠀ ‎⑅ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ a/n ﹕this is kinda poop, im sorry ⠀ ⏖　　

 　　　　　　　　﹕ ︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

𓊆ྀི mini playlist ﹕ nobody new　turning page　its always sunny in phildadelphia theme　voila (francoise hardy)　　pas de deux (tchaikovsky)　mexicana hermosa 𓊇ྀི

The bed sheets wrinkled, and creased from the intimate, night activities you spent with your newly wedded lover, Elliott.

The bed had been creaking all night, and the sounds of both his, and your groans were present, possibly keeping the chirping birds outside up all night.

Your wedding veil now served as a flimsy, lace top, covering only a quarter of your chest, leaving the rest exposed for Elliott to continue feasting his eyes on.

You had also been nibbling on the white tie Elliott laced on his suit to accompany your striking white wedding gown.

Both your shared saliva trickled down your chin.

“You’re so beautiful” Elliott wiped a thumb on your lower lip.

What does it mean to wed Elliott?

Is it experiencing the warmth, and sultry voice that whispers into your ear every waking morning, night, and afternoon?

Maybe it’s reading the thousand paged love letter Elliott had written for you after all these passing years.

The old letters, and poems he wrote have browned, and aged, but not his undying love for you.

His love is pure, sweet, and everlasting.

It’s mellow, and just right.

What does it mean to wed Elliott?

You’re not sure what, but you figured it could be baking him hearty cookies, and feeding him under the sunlight at the sandy beach.

But it couldn’t be as simple as enjoying a plain but lovely picnic on the beach.

It was a wonderful idea, but now you were sure that it must be a more “complex answer”.

After a few days of being wife, and husband, you still had a bit of a crush on him.

It was hard to even glance at his face, but for some reason you had no problem with moaning under his sweating, big body.

Eillott still courts you even when you’re both married.

He romances you with a carefully composed song he played on his piano.

You were sure you started seeing hearts, and stars glisten around him. You felt so abashed, and flattered that he composed a piece for you.

Amidst the flying music notes running in your mind—Elliott tying the melody together into a hearty piece, you thought harder.

Really, what does it mean to wed Elliott?

Was it preparing yourself; applying makeup, trying a new hairstyle he’d like…

The blush on your cheeks spread, and a foolish, but pretty grin curled on your face.

Another day passed, and you’re both spending time together, washing dishes after having a big meal you two had as a date.

Bubbles floated from the dish soap you lathered, and he blew one at you.

The iridescent flying bubble popped onto your nose.

You both laughed, chuckling.

A few months went by, and a bump soon grew on your stomach.

Elliott would poke your baby bump, cooing at your unborn child, pecking your belly button lovingly.

While you cradled your unborn child, Elliott cradled his beloved, and that was you.

He spooned you, rubbing your back, and fed you things you craved.

Even at this moment, you’re still not sure what it means to wed Elliott.

After all, that day of marriage had passed… although, it does still feel like it was just yesterday you both exchanged vows.

When you finally gave birth to your baby… your eyes opened wide.

You gaped at this cute little thing you made.

It squirmed, cried, and wriggled in your weak arms.

Elliott’s heart melted, and kissed your cheek.

What does it mean to wed Elliott?

With your baby boy/girl now growing up, wearing overalls, and long-sleeved sweaters…

They shared the same dew dropped eyes Elliott has.

Not only that, but they inherited his creative mind.

You noticed they loved drawing, and doodling hearts.

Reading bedtime stories to your baby with Elliott coming along, you all laughed, giggled, and smiled.

The stars shimmered brighter outside, and the moon seemed to have smiled down on your family.

You felt the moon’s warmth blanketing, embracing your body.

You heart raced.

…To wed Elliott is to not only exchange meaningful vows, and say “I love you”’s, but it’s to present, and really show your love you claim to have.

To take action on your word… you suddenly create a human from your donning amity.

jk

bonkadoodles

[crush-itis]

(＞ ＜　　🫖 hi, i’m leehi ˚ 　 ⁺⁠⁠　　　౨౿

ㅤ⠀⠀୨ ◟ ͜ ◞◟ ͜ ◞⠀♡ fanfics, digital diary, pro farter ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀ㅤ ˖ ㅤ 𑄽୧ ㅤ ˖ ㅤ ︵ ⏜ ࣪ ㅤ ˖ ִ

𓊆ྀི 6teen, she/her, filipino, bunny irl, i love manhwas, i love lilia vanrouge hes so baby, matcha tea is yummilicous, my brain is kinda smooth, i love i love i love i love i love i love 𓊇ྀི

ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀ㅤ ˖ ㅤ 𑄽୧ ㅤ ˖ ㅤ ︵ ⏜ ࣪ ㅤ ˖ ִ

　 🩰 　 ⁺⁠⁠　 tea parties 　. 𓎢𓎟𓎡

general!lilia x reader 0. i. ii. iii. twst x reader i. ii. iii. iv. v. stdv x reader i. ii. iii. iv. v. kurapika x reader i. feitan x reader i. ii. iii. wmmap x reader i. ii. su-a x haesu i.

ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤ⠀⠀ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⠀⠀ㅤ ˖ ㅤ 𑄽୧ ㅤ ˖ ㅤ ︵ ⏜ ࣪ ㅤ ˖ ִ

˖ ˚ 🪷 ׄ ㅤ ⌕ request guidelines . . .　⁺ 　♡ ׄ ⊹

◡◡ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ fandoms I write twst, stdv, hxh, cod, manhwas (wmmap, vadtd, roxana, the gyeongseong mermaid, i failed to oust the villain, no home, wait where the shooting star falls, my farm by the palace, mystic prince)

◡◡ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I will write light/few suggestive themes, fluff, (heavy) angst, female reader, gn reader, platonic, romantic, reader w/ diff certain personalities, hcs, chat fics, yandere, child reader

◡◡ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ I will not write heavy smut, infidelity/cheating, cray cray kinks (ex. piss kink, period kink, incest, stepcest, inflation, necrophilia, rape, ddlg), character x oc, character x character (only if i like the ship tho 😓😓), male reader, threesome

⠀⠀૮ ྀི⳿ ◞ ◟ 𑁬ྀི ⠀⠀ please be specific when requesting !!

English is not my first language, so I’m sorry if any of my writing sounds wacky, or incoherent. I would very much appreciate constructive criticism, and feedback if you do notice any errors!

[crush-itis]

hii! not a request but just wanted to say that im in LOVE with your blogs aesthetic n layouts sm !! ^.^

aweeee thank you so much!! i love you 🤍🤍🤍

[crush-itis]

HALLOOOO GURRRLL !! HOWW ARE YOUU ?? I'M HEREEE TO REQUEST !! AND IT'S BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR A WHILE ! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

SOOO i saw a lot of lilia x human!reader but not lilia x fae!reader(i saw a few of them) SO! Lilia and reader have been married ever since lilia was a general! they have been taking care of the boys together ever since the boys were little (Silver, malleus and sebak) Silver see reader as his mother and malleus kinda see reader the same way like silver (?), and sebak respect her just like lilia! Soo the story is the reader secretly visit the boys and snuck in the diasomnia like it's been years they haven't seen each other but still keep in contact by latters~! And when the boys find out about this, lilia was excited to see her only for reader to have all her attention to the boys(her children-) and babying them instead of him! and only got scolded by the reader(she's a bossy wife) for giving her children his homemade foods all this years(silver complain about it to reader) and his kinda sulking about it and being dramatic a little

Sorry for my bad English since it's not my first language and I also hopee my request isn't too much !! (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

ㆍ 𓎟𓎟 ⑅ ⠀FAMILY REUNION !

tags ⠀short, fluffy + few suggestive themes, fae!reader

w.c ⠀1031

a/n ⠀thank youu for the ask!! im so sorry if i didnt make the characters act accurately (idk how to write a happy family) but also im doing okayyy, thank you ^ - ^ 🤍

songs coming home, flaming hot cheetos, puppy love, melting

Browning love letters, stamped with outdated, faerie imperial insignias, they crumple, and collect dust from the top shelf they’re stacked in.

You traced a finger against a special love letter from Lilia, brushing your fingertips against the cursive letters, and the wacky doodled picture of you.

You had been resting in the drawing room on the left wing of your hearty mansion.

Your servant had prepared an ornate, gold tray filled with the love letters exchanged with your beloved.

You usually reread your favourites in your free time.

It was something to remember Lilia for.

Although the two of you were still married, and still very much in love, the distance between you two made it harder for you to cope in your stuffy, lonely, and cold manor.

You couldn’t even call it your home anymore ever since Lilia had left.

“Lilia” was what you truly considered your home.

Perhaps it was time to finally visit him for all these years.

With your engagement ring strapped snugly around your finger, you swooped into your carriage, dolled up, gown and all.

The carriage rattled off to your destination: Night Raven College.

It was one… odd school.

When you stepped inside, your heels clacking against the hardened gravel, you felt the eyes of young students pour on you.

It was an academy full of eccentric pupils…

They must be wondering who you were.

Silver had fallen asleep (again) on school grounds.

Specifically, the green fields just next to Diasomina.

His head rested on the hard, jagged planes of tree bark, and the fluffy, tallish grass he laid on served as a comforting blanket, and mattress.

A bit of sunlight feathered on his sleeping face, slumbering away under the shade with no care for his stacking homework.

He’ll get it done in a jiffy anyway.

With Silver still asleep, you spotted your once baby boy lying comfortably on a bed of grass.

Silver felt a tickle on his side.

His brows knitted close together, and in the middle of his dreams drew away.

He stirred awake, and found himself gasping at the appearance of his mother.

“Boo!” you chuckled, and booped his nose.

“Mother?” Silver let out a shaky breath.

“Shh! We have to surprise your father.” you hushed his mouth before gently grabbing his arm, standing him up.

You removed the leaves caught on his silver-chrome hair, grinning at the timid youngster.

You also couldn’t help but squish, and squeeze his cheeks, cooing at his now grown face.

“You look just like a flower!” You were still babying Silver in his big age.

Silver blushed, abashed by your antics.

He was definitely not expecting your sudden visit.



It felt like Mother’s Day.

Silver led you to the dormitory—the glum, dark shades a stark contrast between your bright, sunny smile.

It took a lot of convincing for you to finally get Silver to help you sneak into Diasomnia.

It was your first time here, and you were getting so much attention again.

You didn’t mind the sea of eyes on you, but you most definitely minded the retchy smell stuffing the halls.

You did not see a female in sight.

There were only male students walking about in sweaty uniforms.

They all caught an unpleasant aroma.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, reaching a gloved hand to cover your nose.

It was a great thing Lilia had taught Silver proper hygiene.

Still walking away, you began to hear the footsteps of a peculiar young man.

Silver also heard a loud, screechy voice along with it.

A snarky silhouette followed, and there goes the familiar, bright green hair.

“Sil-“ the loud, beaming voice suddenly lowered as his eyes turned to the lady next to Silver.

His eyes widened, and his mouth gaped wide open. “Lady Vanrouge!” He squeaked.

“Sebek,” you smiled softly at the boy. He was still the same after all those years.

He always stuck close with Silver, and your husband, Lilia. You remember him being one of Lilia’s pupils.

“How old are you now?” you chuckled, ruffling Sebek’s hair.

“I am sixteen now, and I have grown into a respectable gentleman!” He still had that loud, prideful voice.

You smiled at that, nodding. “That’s amazing!” you applauded him.

“But may I ask, what are you doing here, miss?” Sebek blinked, and Silver hummed in curiosity as well.

“Well, I missed you guys, silly! And of course his father too.” you reached to playfully pinch Silver’s nose, making him squeal.

“Ah, yes. I still remember your wedding.” Sebek nodded vigorously. He respected you just as much as he respected Lilia.

Sebek’s heart hammered away in his chest from happiness.

With the trio now off to surprise Lilia, they found Malleus along the way.

His nose was stuck between the pages of a non fiction.

“Your Highness,” you poked Malleus’ side. He shivered, his attention quickly steering away from his book.

He was still ticklish as ever.

“Y/N?” He blinked.

He was more confused than shocked.

It was adorable.

You pinched his nose.

With the whole group now, they finally arrived at Lilia's door.

Malleus knocked, waiting for a pair of scarlet red eyes to peek behind the door.

The door creaked open,

“Boo!” You twinkled your hands for a crazier effect.

Lilia was just as surprised as the boys were.

Even more when you decided to spend more time with the kids rather than him.

Lilia pawed at your waist, trying to grab your attention like a flimsy, irritating bat going through its breeding season.

The whole family hung around in Lilia’s dorm, skipping class as they watched a comedy.

It was the only time the students relented in attending classes.

The sun began to lower, and the stars began to shimmer, the kids had gone back to their dorms, leaving just the couple alone.

It felt like the two of you were back in your teen years.

Lilia nipped at your ear, whispering sweet nothings.

He bit his lip, yearning for you.

You felt the warmth radiating from his body, and you couldn’t help but giggle sheepishly.

With his hand now snaking for your hip, pulling you closer, Lilia reached to suckle on your throat.

[crush-itis]

Can you please write headcanons for Claude from wmmap falling in love again with a oblivious female Reader? Reader can be a Princess from another country who came to visit athy to congratulate her after she was declared the crown princess and met Claude that way. After athy realised her father was falling in love with reader she acted as a matchmaker because she wanted her father to be happy and be with someone he loves. But to athy's frustration reader turns out to be quite dense about other people's feelings towards her and always dismisses Claude's gestures as politeness.

ㆍ 𓎟𓎟 ⑅ ⠀WHO MADE ME SO OBLIVIOUS ?

tags ⠀fem!reader, foreigner princess, sfw, fluffy, short

a/n ⠀thank you for the ask! also im sorry if this wasn’t accurate to claude’s character, i finished the manhwa two years ago 😓😓

Claude was enamoured by your beauty. You were stunning, breathtaking, and he could never keep his eyes off of you.

You would always catch his eyes whenever he was near, and he’d smile at you, awkwardly.

Whenever you celebrate your birthday, Claude would always prepare a portrait of you commissioned by the best artists in the kingdom. He would even keep a separate copy for himself.

You were a one of a kind, and you opened his stubborn, sealed heart in ways nobody else did.

You were different.

You made him forget many things.

And while I did mention he thought you were one beautiful lady, he also noticed how beautiful your soul was. He’ll keep the soundtrack—wavelengths of your laughs that tickled his heart written in him.

He’ll try getting close with comedians, jesters, trying to pick up their funniest jokes so that he could make you laugh; to continue the sounds of your joy.

To his failure, you would always give him a raised brow at his awful dad jokes.

He’d clear his throat then ask you how was your day to change the subject.

He loved you, but he always grew frustrated with how

you were so oblivious that you couldn’t catch his many hints.

Your proximity between him grew, and he’d fiddle, play with your hair, or brush a flirty thumb against your lips.

He did all sorts of ways to get you to realize.

And since you were a foreigner, a princess from another, faraway empire, he would spend his time looking into your culture, and trying to learn your language.

He would sometimes ask you to say a few random things in your mother tongue.

Besides your beautiful laughter, the way you talked in your native language tugged at his heart strings.

His throat would always go dry, and he’d even ask you to say silly things in your language.

Then behind locked doors, in his office, he would find scriptures, dictionaries of your language.

It was Athy’s original idea. She thought maybe learning your dialect would finally make you realize.

You were surprised, amazed, and quite flattered when Claude started spouting a few words like “hello” in your native tongue.

You were even more appalled when he finally confessed his feelings, in your language.

It was intimate, sacred, and different.

Your heart couldn’t stop pounding, hammering away in your chest that it started to hurt.

[crush-itis]

　 ㅤ. 𓂂 Twisted Wonderland ⊹

general lilia x fem!reader ꒱ fanfic

　 ㅤㅤ ˖ chapter three ׄ ⊹ 𓂃 　

‧₊˚✩ tags： gilf, sfw, fluff, angst, slowburn

‧₊˚✩ word count： 1178

‧₊˚✩ summary： You’re a mix of human, and fae; it sounds otherworldly—extraordinary, however, while your origin may sound like another case of a Mary Sue cliche, the people of both worlds of your kind had casted you aside because of your mongrel background… that was until you met Lilia, your becoming mentor who’ll introduce you to the world of your human blood’s counterpart, and blend in the faes’ society.

‧₊˚✩ a/n： i accidentally made him hate yew sorry guys also another short chapter im tew layzee to write 😓🙏🙏 @kiki-kuku

୨ ◟ ͜ ◞◟ ͜ ◞　previous ch.⠀♡ next ch.

You were stressing, and you felt that familiar churn in your upper abdomen, you had to clench your stomach.

You were also getting dizzy.

Your palms felt moist, and clammy.

You inhaled deeply as another wave of anxiety flushed through you.

You can’t just kill someone. Your bloodied hands were dirty enough.

You didn’t want to do this, you were so scared, you felt like you were about to faint.

You ran a trembling hand to your hair.

Catching a knot, you groaned at the slight, piercing pain in your scalp.

Your shirt was a quarter buttoned, and you started hearing footsteps coming from downstairs that you assumed were Lilia’s.

You start needing to toot now—you had to clench your butt a little.

Your eyes began to well up into tears, and you sniffled.

You scrambled to lock the door with sweaty hands so he wouldn’t be able to see your exposed chest, but the stupid door wouldn’t budge.

Oh my goodness, your heart dropped.

You just stood there, eyes wide, mouth agape.

“Hey, Y/N, they have scrambled eggs, and bread for breakfast.” Lilia swooped inside with a tray in his hands.

Glazing his eyes over you, he blinked.

“You’re still not finished changing? We have to leave in a few minutes.” He scoffed then set your plate, and tray down on the bedside.

The smell of hearty cooked eggs, and toast did little to calm your raging your nerves.

“I’ll be in the gift shop…” his voice trailed off when his eyes lowered to your upper assets...

His raised a brow,

“getting a few things.” He finished his sentence before closing the door behind him.

Your throat went dry.

You don’t remember the human realm being this big.

Well you did live in the smaller parts of Fleur City, the dirty, old, and lonely slums…

But besides your gloomy past, the town square was bustling with activities, and little markets were open.

Your nose twitched at the smell of juicy, fresh, street food.

The waft of sweet-smelling aroma of a bakery nearby came your way, and you felt your mouth water.

You never had the chance to try candy or rich pastries.

At least you had scrambled eggs, and bread though.

But what really caught your eye were these jewelled hair combs this one vender was selling.

They also sell these intricate, handcrafted purses.

They were so expensive.

It felt illegal to look at them for free.

You always romanticized about living as a princess or a woman of high power when you were young.

And you still did.

You really wanted this beautiful hair brush with a portable mirror inside.

But you don’t have the wallet to get it.

“Y/N! Get moving, stop going over there!” Lilia’s voice beamed towards you, waking you of your childish daydreaming.

Shucks.

You’re lost, and you really can’t find Lilia in these crowded streets without bumping into a thousand people.

When you finally found Lilia, he was panting, and sweating all over. At least he didn’t carry an oder or something.

He wrapped his cloak around him, huffing, and puffing as he hid away from the sun.

“It’s so hot in here.” He cursed under his breath.

You had never seen Lilia in such a compromising, and vulnerable state before.

It wasn’t even that hot either.

“Right, I found the perfect target.” He handed you a dagger, secretly slipping it into your pocket.

You hesitated, feeling the sheathed blade with your quivering thumb.

He took you into a discreet, dim lit, narrow alleyway.

You heard rats scrambling, and squeaking inside the sewers. You could also hear crickets singing from the nearby, tall, and grey, muddy grass.

It was a familiar soundtrack that reminded you of your homeless days…

Anyway, the loudest thing you heard was your beating—racing heart. You gulped, scratching your nape.

Your pulse hammered away from your growing trepidation, and you were practically in the brink of fainting (again).

It started to feel painful hearing your loud heartbeat ring in your ears.

You sulk, covering your ears with your sweaty, matted hair.

“Lilia, I don’t think I can do this…” you muffled through gritted teeth.

His eyes narrowed, brows knitting downward.

Oh naw.

“I can’t.. I’m scared.” The panic was clear in your voice.

“I don’t think this can help me become a faerie or something.”

Lilia’s frown grew.

“I just don’t think it’s possible.” You fiddled, and pulled at your sweaty, ring finger.

“I just—“

“You’ve wasted my time, human.”

Your head ached.

“Do you really want to go back home with nothing, without even trying the method?”

No. Not at all.

But you just can’t kill someone.

You were silent for a moment,

“I brought you here, willing to help you.”

“There is no other way to become a faerie without doing this.”

“I thought you dreamed to be one or the other. I thought you didn’t want to be the outcast of both worlds.”

You hear Lilia let out a frustrated sigh.

He scratched his nape, walking away, expecting you to follow him.

You bit your lip, clenching your fists. You were frustrated too. You don’t understand how this could really help you because it clearly wasn’t.

The ride back home was not fun at all.

It was gratingly silent, blue, and gloomy.

And it was all your fault.

Now you’re going to take an agonizing poop right after.

Back inside the inn, Lilia didn’t talk to you for the whole night.

He even made the pillow barrier wider, purposely giving you so little space while he had like half the bed.

That made you more irritated than sad now.

You pushed the pillow barrier closer to his, giving yourself more space.

His eyes shot wide open at that, pushing it back towards you.

You grumbled, trying to stop him.

You two spent five minutes straight pushing the pillow back to the other’s space.

Huffing, and puffing with fists rolled up, Lilia suddenly pulled your hair.

You groaned, letting out a whiny “ow”.

Going in, you snatched the pillow from him, smacking the cushion towards his face.

Feathers jut out from the linens, and you both sneezed uncontrollably.

“You petulant human!”

Surprisingly, Lilia decided to keep you anyway even after your little pillow fight with him.

One evening, you took a walk inside the palace hallways, wandering around with your hands clasped behind your back.

It was huge here, and you believed you were inside the empty parts of the castle.

You didn’t see a servant in sight, and it was quiet, and lonely.

But you didn’t mind.

Lilia was being rude so you went off to take a walk to clear your clouded head.

You were so anxious that day, your heart was still racing at the thought of it.

Watching your step, and not looking your way, you bumped into someone.

Someone tall.

Looking up, you felt your nerves flare from sudden fear.

You’re not sure why.

But why was this guy so oddly, and eerily intimidating?

pic creds to Millie 🪽