#to me she's this stern elegant woman

[citroncynique]

Uuuuuh an attempt at designing Meursault's mom I guess? She's giving perpetually jaded parisienne and that's all I need from her tbh.

I wonder how she died in LCB. or like. The circumstances. Esp for Meur himself to get in trouble for it. What if she was a big name in N Corp or something...... who knows......

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents’ home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

Edwige Fenech (The Seducers, Madame and Her Niece, Heads or Tails)—this might be a slightly cheeky submission but please understand that i must try given that she is the most beautiful woman in the world) Number 1 European sleaze babe! The star of many giallo movies and with a beautiful face like that, is it a surprise? Whether she's screaming in horror, making evil plots or seducing a hapless detective, I cannot avert my gaze from her striking eyes. Wonderful actress and absolute style icon <3

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

[elryuse]

Hierarchy

Part 2 : Jooshin High

Y/n's POV

The imposing facade of Jooshin High loomed over me, a monolith of privilege and power. As I stepped through the grand entrance, I felt like a small fish swimming into a vast, unfamiliar ocean. The air was thick with the scent of wealth and exclusivity, and the students who filled the hallways were a stark contrast to the kids I grew up with.

I followed the signs to the school hall, my heart pounding in my chest. As I entered the vast space, I felt a wave of intimidation wash over me. The hall was filled with students who looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. Their clothes were expensive, their smiles perfect, and their confidence exuded an aura of superiority.

I found an empty seat at the back of the hall and tried to make myself as small as possible. I was about to take a deep breath when a group of students grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the seat.

“Hey, that’s our seat,” one of them said, his voice dripping with contempt.

I looked around, confused. There were plenty of other empty seats. Why were they picking on me?

“Didn’t you see the sign?” another student sneered. “This section is for privileged students only. Scholarship students belong at the back.”

My face burned with humiliation. I had been so focused on blending in that I hadn’t noticed the small, gold sign indicating the seating arrangement.

I was dragged to the back of the hall and forced to sit among the other scholarship students. They were a motley crew, a stark contrast to the privileged students who occupied the front rows.

As I sat there, feeling like a loser, the large double doors at the front of the hall swung open. A hush fell over the crowd as a group of incredibly attractive students entered the hall. They walked with a sense of entitlement, their heads held high. They took their seats in the front row, their perfect posture and flawless outfits making them look like they belonged on a fashion runway.

A few minutes later, the principal, a stern-looking woman with a sharp gaze, walked onto the stage. She welcomed everyone to Jooshin High and gave a brief overview of the school’s history.

As she spoke, I couldn’t help but notice the way the privileged students were eyeing us, the scholarship students. It was as if we were prey and they were predators.

The principal’s speech was interrupted by the sound of applause. A beautiful girl, with long, flowing black hair and piercing blue eyes, was walking towards the stage. She was tall and slender, with a perfect figure. Her every movement was graceful and elegant.

I was captivated by her beauty. She looked like a goddess, a vision of perfection. I had never seen anyone so stunning in my life.

As she reached the podium, the entire hall fell silent. She was Park Sohyun, the queen bee of Jooshin High, the girl I had heard about but never seen before.

She began to speak, her voice clear and confident. She talked about the school’s rich history and the importance of upholding its traditions. But then, her tone changed.

“Jooshin High is a place for the elite,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “A place for those who have been born into privilege. It’s a place where hard work and talent are irrelevant.”

She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd. When her gaze landed on the scholarship students, a cold smile crept across her face.

“Some of you may have managed to sneak your way into this prestigious institution,” she continued, her voice growing colder. “But let me be clear: you do not belong here. You are imposters, pretenders. You will never be one of us.”

A wave of laughter erupted from the privileged students. It was a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the hall. The scholarship students sat in stunned silence, their faces paling with fear. A cold dread settled over them. They realized they had walked into a highway to hell itself.

Sohyun stood there, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

The laughter finally died down, and the principal stepped forward to regain control of the situation. Her voice, though firm, held a hint of uncertainty.

“Thank you, Sohyun, for your... unique perspective,” she said, her voice strained. “Now, let us move on to the practicalities of the new school year. As you all know, Jooshin High offers a diverse range of academic programs..."

Sohyun's POV

The endless drone of the principal’s voice was a monotonous hum in the background, a dull ache against the vibrant pulse of anticipation that surged through me. I glanced around at the sea of expectant faces, their eyes glued to the stage, their expressions a mix of boredom and feigned interest. I had played my part, delivered my lines with the calculated precision of a seasoned actress. Now, it was time for the curtain to fall.

With a subtle shift in my posture, I drew attention away from the stage and towards myself. A discreet glance around confirmed my suspicion. No one was paying attention to me. It was time.

Rising from my seat, I moved with a deliberate grace, my steps echoing through the hushed hall. As I turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of the scholarship students, their eyes wide with fear and resentment. A flicker of satisfaction passed through me. They were exactly where I wanted them to be.

The bathroom was a sanctuary, a brief respite from the suffocating atmosphere of the school. I locked the door behind me and leaned against the cool tiles, exhaling slowly. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the sleek silver device. With a deft hand, I slipped it to my lips, inhaling deeply. The vapor filled my lungs, a soothing balm against the rising tide of anxiety.

I closed my eyes, letting the world fade away for a moment. The taste of the vapor was a familiar comfort, a constant in a life filled with uncertainty. As I exhaled, I felt a sense of calm wash over me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, jarring me back to reality. I pulled it out, my heart pounding. A new message. My fingers trembled as I unlocked the phone and opened the message. A wave of nausea washed over me as I read the words.

Photos. Threats. Blackmail. A sight so horrible and horrifying, that immediately makes my whole body trembled in fear.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. I felt a cold dread creeping into my bones, a fear I hadn’t experienced in years. The images flashed through my mind, a haunting reminder of a past I desperately wanted to forget.

My hands shook as I tried to steady my breath. I needed air, fresh air. I fumbled for my inhaler, my fingers clumsy with fear. Just as I was about to take a deep breath, the bathroom door swung open.

Gaeul stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of concern and surprise.

“Sohyun, are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with worry.

I nodded, trying to mask the panic in my voice. “Yeah, just having a bit of... Something,” I lied.

Gaeul hesitated, her eyes scanning my face. “Here,” she said, handing me her inhaler. “Take a deep breath.”

I accepted the inhaler gratefully, taking a long, slow inhale. The menthol hit my lungs, and I felt a sense of relief wash over me.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Gaeul nodded, her eyes still filled with concern. “Gurll... Are you sure you’re okay? You look pale.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just a little stressed, that’s all.”

Gaeul studied me for a moment longer before finally nodding. “Okay, but if you need anything, just let me know.”

I nodded, relieved that she didn’t push. As she turned to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude. Gaeul was one of the few people who truly cared about me.

I was alone again. The bathroom tiles seemed to close in around me, the walls growing taller, the ceiling lower. The images from the phone replayed in my mind, a relentless torment.

I had thought I had escaped my past, buried it deep beneath layers of success and privilege. But now, it was back, more menacing than ever. This time, they knew my weakness.

The realization hit me like a cold shower. They knew where to find me, who I was with. My carefully constructed facade was crumbling, revealing the vulnerable girl beneath. Panic seized me. I had to get out of here.

My phone buzzed again. Another message. I didn’t need to open it to know what it contained. More threats, more demands. My heart pounded in my ears. I had to think, to plan. But my mind was racing, a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

I stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. The shock of the cold water was a brief respite from the chaos in my mind. I looked at my reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at me was a stranger, her eyes filled with a terror she hadn’t felt in years.

A wave of dizziness washed over me. My vision blurred, and my legs felt weak. I clutched the edge of the sink for support, my breath coming in short, rapid gasps. The world was spinning, and I couldn’t focus. Fear, pure and unadulterated, consumed me.

I slid down the wall, my knees buckling beneath me. My heart pounded in my ears, a deafening drumbeat. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating.

A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and my vision began to tunnel. I was losing control. The bathroom seemed to close in around me, a claustrophobic tomb.

Just as I was about to give in to the darkness, I heard the door open. Gaeul rushed in, her face etched with concern.

“Sohyun, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice filled with alarm.

I couldn’t respond. I could only gasp for air. Gaeul knelt beside me, her hands gentle on my shoulders.

“Breathe, Sohyun, breathe,” she said calmly. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”

Her words were like an anchor, grounding me in the moment. Slowly, I began to regain control of my breathing. With Gaeul’s help, I managed to stand up, leaning against the wall for support.

“I’m okay,” I managed to whisper, my voice hoarse.

Gaeul nodded, her eyes still filled with worry. “We need to get you out of here,” she said.

I nodded, grateful for her presence. As we walked out of the bathroom, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I was safe, for now.

Whatever happened, I can't let anyone know this. If they find out, My whole life will be ruined.

??? POV

A cold, calculating gaze watched the scene unfold. A smirk crept across the observer's face as they watched the fear and vulnerability etched on Sohyun's face. This was just the beginning.

"You think you're safe now, Sohyun?" a voice whispered into the darkness. "But I'm watching you. Every move, every breath."

A chilling laugh echoed through the silent room.

"Soon, everyone will know your darkest secrets. Your perfect image will shatter, like glass under a hammer. Your friends, your family, even your beloved school... they will all turn their backs on you."

The observer leaned forward, their eyes glinting with malice.

"And when that happens, you'll wish you were never born."

A sinister chuckle filled the room as the observer opened a file, revealing a collection of photos, videos, and documents, each one a piece of Sohyun's carefully constructed facade.

The End

[hyperactively-me]

ok hear me out, imagine you and king!ghost are in an argument, and princess is smaller than him, so you have to try to hold this behemoth of a man at bay, but when you're angry and fighting with him, he finds it adorable and he just picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, much to your dismay. king ghost just thinks you look so cute when you're flushed and angry, like a feisty little kitten :)

CUTEE. he has those cartoon-y heart eyes when she's angry at him, which makes her even more mad.

(extras)

king!ghost x reader -- upside down warnings: none

You stand before your husband in a grand chamber of the castle. It had been a long day, and you were exhausted. The air crackles with tension as your voices clash in a heated argument. Simon practically looms over you, looking down at you with annoyance, yet a hint of amusement begins to creep onto his face.

"And that's why you can't simply add a knife throwing contest into the royal banquet! It's supposed to be serious!" you exclaim in disbelief.

Simon's amusement deepens, and he raises an eyebrow at your objection. "But, lovie, a knife throwing contest would be a great addition. Imagine how entertaining it would be."

You scoff, incredulous. "Simon, we're talking about dignitaries and nobles. This is not the damn circus! They expect a refined and elegant affair!"

You try to hold your ground, glaring up at him with the defiance he knows very well. Your words are sharp, but they seem to bounce right off his towering figure. As you argue, the more animated you become, the more he finds it...adorable, to say the least.

His stern expression softens, and he can't help but think how cute you look all flushed and angry with a pout on your pretty little lips.

In your growing attempts to maintain some semblance of control, you raise your voice, crossing your arms in a futile attempt to appear more imposing. Simon, however, remains unfazed.

Ignoring your protests, he steps closer, standing tall above you. His hand gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Dove," he says, his tone surprisingly calm as his deep voice rumbles through his chest, "you look adorable when you're all worked up."

Your mouth falls agape, and oh boy, he's in for it now. Before you can retort, he swiftly lifts you off your feet, throwing you over his shoulder effortlessly. The sudden change in position leaves you momentarily disoriented.

"SIMON RILEY! YOU PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!" you demand, squirming in his grip. From this vantage point, all you can do is pout and glare, beating on his back with your fists.

Ignoring your protests and painless smacks, Simon chuckles to himself, his laughter reverberating against your stomach. He fastens his arms tighter around the backs of your thighs, resting dangerously close to your ass.

"I can't believe you find this funny!" you declare, crossing your arms over your chest even whilst hanging upside down. The more you resist, the broader his grin becomes.

As you continue to demand that he puts you down, he smirks playfully and decides to have a bit more fun with the situation.

"Couldn't resist," he teases, patting your ass with his free hand, strolling towards a lavish couch in the corner of the room. "Not my fault that a beautiful woman was yelling at me."

"I swear, if you don't put me down, RIGHT NOW—"

Before you can finish your sentence, with a swift and practiced motion, he unceremoniously 'body slams' you onto the soft cushions, causing an indignant yelp to escape your lips. He has to stifle a laugh when he looks at your now disheveled appearance, the fire in your eyes burning brighter than ever.

You sit up, shooting Simon a glare that could melt steel, but he only leans over, face hovering inches from you as he grins down at you.

"Have I ever told you that your spirit is one of the things I adore most about you?" he asks innocently.

You huff, crossing your arms and attempting to maintain an air of dignity despite your undignified landing onto the couch. Simon, however, seems unfazed by your irritation, his grin only widening as you start to straighten out your hair and clothes.

"Your sense of humor is seriously twisted, Simon," you retort, shooting him another glare as you push hair out of your face. Despite your frustration, a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips, betraying the fact that has antics had a way of breaking through your annoyance.

He chuckles, taking a seat beside you on the couch. He leans back in his seat, watching you finish straightening yourself out on the couch. "I think I'm charming," Simon says.

You shoot him a look that says "charming is not the word I would use," but there's an undeniable fondness beneath the surface.

"You definitely have an interesting way of lightening the mood," you deadpan.

"But wasn't it effective?" Simon wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he leans in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. "And you have a peculiar way of makin' me fall in love with you more every day."

You scoff, trying to play off the compliment. "Smooth talk isn't going to get you out of trouble, Simon Riley."

He raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Trouble? What trouble? I was just trying to have a bit of fun."

You give him a pointed look, but the warmth of his embrace and the playful glint in his eyes make it difficult to stay mad. "Fun that involves throwing me down on the couch?"

He shrugs, "Alright, maybe I did get a bit carried away. But admit it, you're smiling."

You can't help but finally let a small smile escape despite your efforts to maintain your stern expression.

"Knew it," he says simply.

"That smile doesn't mean you're getting away with body slamming me, Simon."

He chuckles, squeezing you gently. "Fair enough."

With a sigh, you lean into him, unable to stay mad for long.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[fruitmins]

For You | yoongi

➭ summary: in which Yoongi is the son of a big business man and is now the CEO of the million dollar company so naturally he grew up distant and stern. But suddenly, his attitude changes when he meets you, a local kind hearted stripper that catches his curiosity. He finds himself lost in your smile and warm spirit, despite him being the opposite. But he’s willing to let down his walls for you..

➭genre: oneshot, strangers to lovers, stripper reader, slowburn-ish, fluff

➭warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence & blood, tsundere-ish tbh, didnt check the spelling, yoongi is stalker-ish but that’s ok, daddy issues

➭note: don’t ask me why this takes place in winter💀 senior year of high school + writers block + I’m lazy. i like half of this and i hate half of this. omg yoongi going to the military I’m gonna cry & throw a fit

Yoongi put his cold hands in his pockets, small snowflakes falling from the sky as he stepped out of the dirty and vulgar parking lot. He ignored all of the horny thugs who were making out with hookers outside as he headed to the dimly lit building.

SEASAW

The word was lit on top of the building and for some unknown reason, Yoongi had been drawn to it for weeks. He knew there were better clubs than this one, and he’d most likely be seen and on some headline by the time he stepped in the door but tonight, he didn’t care.

His mind went back to the fight he had with his dad on the phone as he stepped through the door, some terribly made whiskey in mind.

A breeze washed over him as the door closed with a loud thud, it was at least a little warmer than the cold air outside. Yoongi glanced around taking in the symphony of multicolored lights illuminated the air, casting a vibrant palette across the dance floor. The room throbbed with an infectious energy, resonating with the beat of the music that reverberated through every corner.

Soon, his eyes found the bar, a couple of nicely dressed men sat at the stools. Without another thought, Yoongi strutted to a seat, leaving an empty space to separate himself and another man.

“Whiskey.” He said in a deep raspy voice despite how the woman working was already in the middle of making another drink.

“Yoongi!” A older sounding man suddenly called out of him, making his head turn to the man on the stool next to him. He recognized the man as one of his dad’s friend.

Perfect. He scoffed to himself, hoping his drink would came faster.

“Now what are you doing in a bar like this?” The man asked with a scratchy laugh, hitting his shoulder.

Yoongi tried to let out a small chuckle that ends up sounding dry. “Same as you.” He spoke, turning back to the bar when he hears the bartender loudly slam his drink on the counter.

He goes to take a large swig as the old man continues to chat and laugh with him, his reeking odor hitting his face as he turns to look back at him.

Behind the old man, Yoongi notices the dance floor. Bodies moved in sync with the rhythm, twisting and gyrating, surrendering themselves to the intoxicating melodies. But one soul figure seemed to catch everyone’s attention on stage.

Slowly, he started to tune out the annoying old man the more closely he watched. But unlike the other men in the bar, he watched with curiosity rather than lust. Your movements were elegant and graceful, your tight crop top and glittery skirt making every sway of your body seen.

Your hands played in your hair and caressed your body as your body moved, painting a mysterious story about you with help of the music. Your eyes closed and a bright warm smile on your face as if no one else was there.

Despite dancing in a shabby club probably to make ends meet, you were dancing as if this was your long time dream.

“Her?” The old man’s itchy voice suddenly came back to him, pointing to you on the stage. “That’s Y/N. She’s kinda a favorite here.” He said and this made Yoongi even more intrigued.

“Has she worked here long?” Yoongi asked glancing back at the old man as he nodded. “Almost a full year.” He said and everyone clapped and whistled as you suddenly came down from the stage with a warm smile.

Yoongi just hummed before quickly finishing his drink before paying the bartender and leaving, deciding to dismiss the thought of talking to you.

But at weird hours of the day Yoongi would think about you, so every time he happened to pass the club he went in and watched you perform.

This happened for weeks. He never said a word to you, he never went further than the bar. Until one day when you had stepped off the stage, looking cheerful as usual, only to be met with two men meeting you half way.

Yoongi watched, his blood starting to boil as the man surrounded you, complimenting you and touching your hair. It didn’t take them long before they got more physical, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking away as they started to trail closer to you so that their body touched yours.

Yoongi can see the panic and fear settle in your face before his vision was blocked by the taller men.

Without thinking, Yoongi practically sprung up from the stool, furious as he made his way over to where the men had circled you.

“Move.” He said, his voice deep and hoarse as the two men slowly turned around to face Yoongi.

“Mind your business, hot shot.” One man spoke, obviously trying to spook Yoongi which only wanted to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to waste my breath telling you again.” Yoongi said simply, remaining calm as he watched the two turn irritated.

“You wanna get jumped punk?” The man said, raising his voice as he stepped closer to Yoongi.

Instantly and without warning, Yoongi’s right arm swung in the air. His already clenched knuckles that were in his coat pocket suddenly flew out and connected to the guys face, all of his pent up angry unleashing.

Before anyone can react, he punched him a second time, this one making him stumble to the ground with a yell of pain.

The other man quickly backed away with his hands in the air, “I don’t even know that guy.” The man claimed before quickly rushing off.

Yoongi looked up from the ground where the other man was laid, his nose now bleeding heavily as Yoongi stepped over the body, ignoring his groans when he did so.

“You alright?” Yoongi spoke, his expression softening as he meets your eyes. His eyes glazed around your face as he inspected you, trying not to get lost in your gorgeous and unique features as he looked for any sign that they had touched you.

“I’m fine.” You muttered back, out of breath from shock as you looked at the man on the group and then up at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you.” You say with a polite bow, taking a moment to collect yourself before a small smile appears on your face.

“What?” Yoongi asked, curious on why you were suddenly smiling and chuckling despite everything.

“Well, I was wondering when you were going to come talk to me.” You say with a teasing smile only making Yoongi more confused. As if reading his expression you chuckle. “You think I haven’t noticed you always coming in here and watching me?”

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging lightly as he looked away. “I don’t care if you noticed or not.” He spoke in a defensive tone, harsher than intended. He saw the smile on your face drop slightly in disappointment and he bit the inside of his cheek harder out of frustration. He didn’t want to be responsible for a frown on your face when you always wore a smile.

Wordlessly, Yoongi took out his wallet, taking out three hundred dollar bills and holding his hand out for her to take.

Your eyes widen in shock, chuckling nervously as you shake your head, denying it. “Why..?” You start to question, getting a little suspicious.

“For the inconvenience, and all the dances I’ve watched without tipping.” Yoongi states with a serious expression, trying to cover up any other intentions he might of had.

“You just have that much on you at all times? That’s risky.” You respond, still hesitant to take the money. Yoongi lets a smile crack at the irony, “I’ve been watching you for weeks and that’s what your worried about?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want a favor in return or something?” You ask him, still skeptical as Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I guess we’ll never know if you don’t take the money.”

With a sigh, he watches as you slowly take the money out of his hands and put it in your pocket. “Thank you.” You mumble as he turns around and heads for the door. “Wait!” You call for him in confusion, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him as he turns around slightly.

“What’s the favor?” You ask in confusion but Yoongi just looks at you before continuing to walk out without a word.

It doesn’t take Yoongi long to wonder back into the club days after that. Despite the weird exchange it only made him want to get to know you more. But something in him grew colder when he walked in the club only to see you not onstage. Usually around this time you had already started and had a small crowd of men watching you.

“Whiskey.” He ordered in a lower tone as he sat down, tapping impatiently on the counter as he waited. “This was stupid.” He mumbled to himself, ashamed of how he had gotten caught up with this stripper and was just about ready to leave it all behind.

“Min Yoongi! You’re back!” He heard your familiar voice right next to him, causing his head to turn to the side in confusion.

“What are you doing here?” He asked his finger slowly stopping as he looked at you, sat next him in the bar.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I know your name?” You reply instead, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “I assumed you already knew.” Yoongi spoke calmly, lightly shrugging even.

“Cocky much?” You reply, jokingly rolling your eyes with a smile. “How did you find out, if not the internet?” Yoongi asked curiously, as the bartender slams his whiskey on the counter.

“Well when the son and CEO of a million dollar company starts to take notice to the best employee in the club, word gets around.” You reply with a slight grin and Yoongi can’t help but chuckle a little.

“Cocky much?” He echos your words as he sips on his whiskey and this only widens your grin further. Yoongi stares into your smile, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders when he realizes it’s been a while since he actually genuinely smiled for once.

When he finishes his drink he takes out his wallet and pays for the bad alcohol before taking out another three hundred and handing it to you, not waiting for you to take it this time.

“This has to be your way of flirting with me.” You mumble in disbelief as you stare at the bills before reluctantly shoving it in your skirt.

Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head in disagreement. “I don’t have time to flirt.” He mumbled firmly while looking at his empty glass.

“You have time to come here.” You differed causing him to bite the inside of his cheek, standing up and dusting himself off. “Wait that didn’t mean leave!” You state quickly getting up with him and Yoongi can’t help but glance at the sudden look of displeasure and sadness on your face as your hand brushes against his as you attempt to stop him.

“I..actually like having you here. You make me feel safe.” You mumble sheepishly as Yoongi stood there, completely frozen as he took in your words. How had he, of all people, made you feel safe? In a run down place like this?

“Then your standers are low.” He said in a low voice, a hint of playfulness in his tone as you look back up at him, snickering at his comment.

“You say that, but under that frown and sharp eyes is a warm hearted gentleman.” You speak causing him to look away from you, not wanting to take your words seriously. He didn’t want to show any signs of vulnerability, he’d never be ready for anything heavy.

“You don’t believe me?” You challenged him, seeing his silence and he heard the heard an underlying tone in your voice when you asked. “If I asked you to walk me to my car, you’d hundred percent do it.”

Yoongi scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, but quickly knew not to didn’t deny it. “See! You would.” You grinned at his sour expression, knowing you were right.

“Whatever, do you want to be walked to your car or not?” He asked trying to dismiss the fact all together. He had never seen himself in a situation like this, feeling embarrassed and maybe bubbly.

You laughed at the question but nodded, grabbing your nearby coat that was filled with stains as you attempted to squeeze your shoulders in the coat.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, walking in front of you as he leaded the two of you out of the door and to your car. Yoongi sighed as he looked at the state of it, effortlessly taking out his wallet and starting to count some bills.

“If you’re going to give me more money don’t bother.” You quickly said as the two of you made it to your car, stepping in front to him and holding onto his hand so he would stop rummaging through his wallet.

“I don’t need it, I’m fine!” You tried to convince him and he simply raised an eyebrow at you, before going back to counting, taking out a couple hundreds as he did so.

“Then consider it flirting.” He mumbled in a flat tone, taking out five hundreds and getting ready to hand it to you.

As he looked back up from his wallet he felt something soft touch the corner of his lips, eyes widening in shock when he realizes how close you were to him and before he could stop it, you had planted a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

Your lips lingered on his skin for a couple seconds before finally pulling away from him, taking a step back.

“Come back tomorrow, okay?” You say with a warm smile, practically glowing in front of him as you spoke to him in a soft low tone.

Silently, Yoongi watched you chuckle at his reaction before getting into your car and slowly driving off, his heart thumping as he watched your car drive off onto the road.

He slowly started to move again when your car was far away enough that it was out of view, as if snapping him out of a trance.

Yoongi could feel himself getting lighter, warmer. He could feel his muscles relax as he took his hands out of his coat pocket.

[therealmrsgojo]

Valentines special (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Hi, everyone! Posting my personal favorite snippet on my fic I'd lie! you can click the link if you want to read the full version of it. summary: first time meeting itadori yuji, as gojo satoru's wife! warnings: canon-compliant, pregnant reader and drunk-in-love gojo.

15th of August, 2018

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly to the music playing in the background. The aroma of the spices and herbs fills the air as you chop the vegetables for tonight's dinner.

A small smile adorns your lips as you hear the servants of your home offer to do the chopping instead. "No, thank you. I find myself enjoying these lately," you politely decline.

The servants bow to you in return, watching in admiration, their eyes fixed on the elegant and glowing woman in front of them, the head wife of the Gojo clan.

As you continue your tasks, your phone rings, breaking your concentration. You wipe your hands on the tablecloth and answer the phone.

"How's my pretty wife doing, hm?" Satoru's voice greets you from the other end of the line.

"I'm doing well," you reply, looking back at the pot and stirring its contents. "I'm cooking our favorite dish. It's almost done, honey."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Satoru's voice inquires with concern. "You just got off from work. If you're going to do the cooking instead of letting the helpers do it, why don't you quit your job for now and just wait for me every day with your pretty little face?"

"That's not going to happen, Gojo Satoru," your tone was stern and resolute. You continued by confessing, "I hate doing nothing. Simple things like cooking make me happy." He could hear the passion in your voice as you spoke about your newfound love for cooking.

On the other end of the line, he sighed deeply, realizing he couldn't argue with you. He knew that you were a determined and independent person and that it was hard to change once you set your mind on something.

Imagining your pouty lips, pleading eyes, and even a soft, simple "please" from you would make his knees buckle in defeat. He, the strongest sorcerer, was no match for you.

"And also, I wanted to give you a heads up that Megumi will be joining us for dinner tonight," he said, pausing a moment before adding, "Oh, and a new student of mine, too, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's okay," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate you telling me beforehand so I can prepare. Do you remember the last time you brought Maki, Panda, Yuuta, and Megumi all at once? I was caught off guard and unprepared."

"I remember. Especially how you didn't kiss me for a whole day afterward because you were so upset." Satoru laughed, adding, "We'll be there soon. Love you ~ "

As the call ended, you turned to one of the servants standing nearby, ready to assist you at a moment's notice.

"Hana, please prepare some guest rooms for tonight," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. "We might need them later for our visitors. Thank you." You patted her shoulder, seeing her nod, before she turned around to follow your orders.

After your engagement, the wedding came soon after, taking place a few months later. You and Satoru had decided to have a simple ceremony with only the most important people in your lives present. You wanted to honor the traditions of the Gojo clan that had fascinated you since you first met Satoru.

Following your honeymoon, you were named the new head wife of the Gojo clan. Satoru's parents had decided to move out, passing on the responsibility of running the family estate to you and your husband. This was a significant moment for you both, as it was a tradition that had been passed down through generations.

The other servants had kindly taken care of wrapping up your cooking and set the table for dinner. You stood in the kitchen, washing your hands; you couldn't help but feel satisfied with your small accomplishment.

Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a pair of soft hands tenderly caressing your stomach, a body pressing up against your back, and nose slowly breathing in the scent of your neck. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly recognize the familiar touch of your husband.

As you turned around, you saw your husband's warm smile that lit up his face. He quickly bent down to one knee and nuzzled his face into your stomach, murmuring, "I missed the both of you." You laughed at his affectionate gesture as you lovingly caressed his hair in response.

"I'm not sure they can hear you yet, love," you conveyed with a gentle smile. "I'm just barely two months pregnant, 'Toru."

Your husband looked up at you with a pout on his face, making you giggle like a teenager. He then stood up, took your face in his hands, and pressed soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. The warmth of his embrace and his scent enveloped you completely.

He then turned to you and said, "Hi, my wife," looking at your face with a loving gaze, as if he was seeing you for the hundredth time but still couldn't get enough of you.

You both heard voices from the dining room, and your husband took your hand, pulling you and leading you toward the two students you had been expecting.

As you entered the room, a pink-haired boy with a curious look on his face muttered, "Wow, it's so big here, Fushiguro," his eyes scanned the delicate features around the room in amazement.

"(Y/N)-san," Megumi noticed you first and walked towards you with a small smile. You embraced him, feeling happy to see him doing well, patting his back and giving him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "How are you, Megumi?" you asked him.

"I'm doing well, thank you, for all that food you sent to the dorms, too," he replied, his cheeks turning slightly red at your affection.

As you stood there, your husband caressed your hair and introduced you to the other student. "Yuji, this is my wife (Y/N)," he said, turning towards the boy staring at you in awe, his mouth slightly apart.

"Itadori Yuji, nice to meet you," he said, bowing profoundly and complimenting you on your beauty that made you and your husband laugh.

"Nice to meet you too, Yuji. Let's go eat now, shall we?" you said softly, patting his shoulders as you led him to one of the dinner chairs.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories as you all caught up with each other. You felt happy to see Megumi and Yuji bonding so well, as they were a perfect mix. You also learned about Nobara, another student you wanted to meet soon. As supper ended, every one commended your cooking, and you suggested that the two students stay for the night, offering rooms that were ready for them. They agreed happily.

As you both retired to your quarters, your husband's face was pressed up against your stomach, his hands caressing your hips as he mumbled sweet nothings to your unborn child.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at the sight of the strongest sorcerer alive baby-talking to your pregnant stomach.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Your night was spent tenderly, with sweet words lingering in the air between you and your husband.

The moonlight bore witness as you made love with each other, lost in your own world of passion and intimacy.

Note: Aaaand that's it! Happy hearts day everyone! Thank you for reading this.

"Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."

xoxo,

Aurora.

[sapphirelightningbug]

Under the Starlit Night [Chapter 1: Sweaty Floors and Swivel Chairs]

credit to artcraawl

Summary: Nightwing owns the nightclub that Starfire dances at, they meet at her day job she doesn’t know it’s him but he knows it’s her, when she falls for both of them, drama ensues.

Word Count: 3k

Chapter Warnings: minor suggestive material, creeps, mentions of addiction, minor violence, blood, cigarettes

general masterlist | series masterlist

let me know if you want to be tagged!

The nightclub was dark except for the neon lights that gleamed brightly at Starfire as she danced onstage, her heels pressed deep into the hardwood. Brilliant blues, greens, and yellows danced across her brown skin, her pink hair and glossy green eyes shone a variation of colors as the lights bounced off her. She spun around the matte silver poll gracefully as she subtly looked around the club to look for the owner, a man only known as Nightwing. She looked into the faces of every dark-haired man in the room winking or blowing kisses sparingly until she finally landed on a familiar face, he sat in the back corner of the club watching with a cold gaze, she knew it was a façade, a look he put on for the public. He was a friend, a respectful and nice guy. She stifled a snicker as she saw his fake stern expression.

She blew him a kiss her glossy lips reflecting hues, he smirked, and she continued to dance her elegant movements, appealing to the men watching. This kind of banter between them was usual, they wouldn't call it flirting, of course they wouldn't but it was familiar and they both got a kick out of it.

Soon enough the song was over and it was her turn to mingle with the crowd. As per usual for a Saturday evening, the turnout was decently large which she would be pleased with when she counted her cash at the end of the night. Not that she did it for the money, it was nice of course but she had her day job, well paying, and what she had gone to college for. She was happy to say she was successful and kept her secret evening work under wraps. 

Men approached her as she walked off stage she looked for somebody she would be able to get a good sum out of that evening, even though she was very popular for her extraterrestrial features she had a small list of clients one of the men was sitting in his usual chair by the aisle, her heels clicked on the ground as she neared him, "Mr. Harper it's a pleasure to see you tonight, the normal?" She questioned, the man nodded he was simple, he smelt good, and kept himself in line so she never minded providing him with her services.

Still, Nightwing did, he watched as Starfire started her dance with her most loyal regular it was always the same, boring honestly. She looked uninterested but attempted to keep a smile on her face. He watched the older man hold her waist, and Nightwing grimaced. 

Star was Nightwing's favorite dancer in his club a sweet girl with eyes like no other and he wasn't even close to complaining about her other assets, she was all in all a beautiful woman, not that he'd say that to her. It would seem too inappropriate, and anyway, she was his friend, someone he cared about as more than just an employee. He watched her move like liquid on the man's lap, he wished it was him, her fuchsia locks were pulled into space buns and he imagined what it would be like to run his fingers through her soft hair. He silently scolded himself for thinking about her in such a way.

She stood up from the man's lap, and he slithered the money into her bra between the fabric and her skin, "Thanks darling, maybe next week you can wear that little pink get-up with the leather boots?" She giggled at him and pushed a curl behind her ear that fell in her face. He knew the exact outfit he was talking about barely any fabric and some pink leather cowboy boots he wasn’t kidding when he said little, she mentally scowled at the idea.

"Why? You don't like this one mister?" He ran his hand down the side of her waist brushing against the neon green body suit she wore. His touch sent a shiver of disgust down her spine. The man’s wrinkly hands are calloused and rough he clearly didn’t know how to handle a woman.

"Matches your eyes, baby, but you look better in pink," she nods before running her slim fingers through his hair and responding.

"I'll consider it," She smiles at the blonde-haired man, "But I better be off see you next week, love!" She strutted off to the back of the club where Dick sat.

"Hey Boss," She rested a hand on his bicep, he looked up at her through his mask, he nodded in her direction. He looked over her curvy body in the body suit she wore and smiled to himself she was gorgeous and he was her superior, nothing could ever happen. He brushed her hand off.

"Anyone causing you any trouble tonight?" She appreciates his caution, she shakes her head. 

“Other than you and that scowl?” She giggles, you looked like an upset toddler back here. Dick rolls his eyes behind his mask and slightly shakes his head chiding her.

"You gonna dance anymore tonight?" He asked pressing a piece of gum between his lips, he swore it kept him from smoking but he took notice of his habit getting worse and worse these days, one he picked up from his little brother.

"On stage?" He nods, "No, I'm starting to get tired but I think I made good money just then and I might do a few more dances I see some of my regulars look lonely," She giggles, his jaw clenches, and then relaxes.

"If you need anything call me over," He waves her off, and she walks down the aisle to a blonde-haired man.

"Hey, looking for some company?" A flash of recognition goes over his face, he nods before patting his knee. She sat distributing most of her weight onto her feet instead. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you sweet cheeks, got any exciting news?” He ran his hand over her back and she shook her head. “Hm, really nothing?” 

“Nothing too exciting I’ve been missing you though,” she smiled running a hand over the man’s shoulder, he slipped a 20 into her stocking at her thigh.

“Whatever that will do for me,” It wasn’t much but she’d give him a few minutes of her time, she smiled before starting to dance a little for him and she felt his hands start to wander on her body and she began to feel uncomfortable. Starfire looked over to the dark man in the corner where he still sat and her eyes pleaded at him showing her discomfort. 

He stiffened before standing up, he looked at her as if asking, “You sure?”, she nodded to confirm, and he waltzed down to her and the man who had gotten all the more handsy.

“Hey man,” Dick placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, but he didn’t budge his hands finding all the wrong places. Dick continued getting progressively irate and he continued to touch her. “So this is my club you know?” The man nodded giving him only a small amount of attention.

“I’ll leave you boys to chat,” she said, attempting to get up from the man, his hand around her waist stopped her.

“Stay dear,” he wasn’t asking he was commanding her. She hated how men thought they could do anything they wanted with her just because she did this line of work. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat, from disgust or nervousness she wasn’t sure which.

“I really should go sir,” she apologized to the blonde man in front of her before prying the man’s arm from around her waist. Her heels clicked on the ground as she walked to the back rooms, she grabbed her robe a fluffy black thing that contrasted her redish-pink tresses. Star wandered into Dick’s office and sat in his comfy rolling chair, she assumed this is where he handled finances and his paperwork. She spun around in the chair the dark room swirling around her. 

Nightwing’s office was a little messy, papers strewn across his dark wood desk, and a cup of light creamy coffee sat on a coaster of a cat. The velvety black chair sunk underneath her weight it was padded and he had a colorful knitted blanket sitting over the back of the seat. He had a case of, seemingly locked, drawers on the other side of the room, dark and shiny to fit the rest of his space, honestly it just felt like him.

On the other side of the building, Nightwing was escorting Mark Desmond out of his club. “You’re lucky she’s a lot nicer than I am,” Dick said as he walked him around the building to the alley beside it. “Cause I won’t put up with that kind of shit in my club, those girls should feel safe in their place of work and pieces of trash like you come in and act like you own the place,” his leather clad fist collided with the man’s knocking him down. It felt wrong, but good at the same time because he was protecting someone he cared for. He kicked Mark in the ribs letting the air escape from his lungs as he writhed on the damp dirty ground.

Dick Grayson wasn’t a villain, a cruel man sometimes sure, but he wasn’t evil. So as soon as he began wriggling around to free himself from under Dick’s boot, he let him go, “Don’t show your face around here again,” He trailed off before remembering the last thing he meant to say. “And stay away from Starfire,” he didn’t want her to feel small or timid, but if men wanted to treat her, or very well any one of the other girls, like that they’d have to deal with him. 

Dick was walking around to the entrance of his nightclub when he realized he was leaving red bootprints in a trail from the alley. Had he kicked the man that hard? He brushed his shoes off at the door on his black mat, the night air was crisp and cold at he was met with the thick smell of cigarette smoke as he returned to the door. 

Starfire was sitting, still swiveling around in Nightwing’s chair when the door flung open and she jumped. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Nightwing, she started to speak and he approached her, she stood up, “Hey Boss I wanted to thank you for taking care of that creep for me, he is usually a kind man I don’t know why he was acting a fool like that.” He stood beside her his body heat admitting a warm aura around the two. 

His muscular body felt large compared to her she wasn’t short or thin by any stretch, in fact, she was taller than him with the heels she had on and she was confident in her fat, curvaceous body. Still with his strong torso and arms her soft body felt small, squishy compared to his solid frame. It was almost attractive, but she pushed the thought away as soon as it came, that was her boss it was inappropriate for her to be thinking of him that way. 

“I doubt you’ll be seeing much of him anytime soon,” he mumbled and his warm breath hit her face it smelt of that familiar sugary peppermint gum he often chewed around the club. It was always either that or cigarettes, she found it comforting, familiar.

"Thanks, Boss…" she trailed off looking down at her hands that were covered by the comfy black robe. "But you know Nightwing strikes again! You're a really good friend," She giggles that sweet harmonic sound that's music to his ears. He felt his chest heat, which was unusual, the sounds from the club behind them were noisy but muffled through the walls. It was silent for a few seconds, the only noise in the room was their breathing.

Nightwing was the first to break the silence, "You okay though?" She thought about it momentarily, was she okay? She nodded slowly, hesitantly.

"Yeah I'm fine, don't worry it comes with the line of work! You know it shouldn't but it's okay really," She smiles at Nightwing,  

“Why do you dance?” He asked not wanting to pry but he was curious.

“It makes me happy, obviously I don’t enjoy the creeps but I get to do what I enjoy and make money off of it,” she smiled at Nightwing, “But I dance here rather than other places, it’s safer, you make it a comfortable area,” she rambled out before stopping herself she didn’t want to sound annoying, she worried she did sometimes.

“I try, I mean it’s the least I could do,” he runs a hand through his dark hair. He looked at his watch it was almost midnight. “You leave at twelve?” He asked it as if it were a question. Still, she felt a pang of happiness when he mentioned her schedule, he’d noticed. Most of the girls left at different times, there were a few that left before her and a few when they closed at 3 a.m. She didn’t know when anyone else left exactly. Still, he remembered hers.

He probably just knew all of the girls' schedules, he was their boss. The moon hung high in the sky outside, she peered through the blinds, light gleaming on Starfire’s bright green eyes.

“Yeah I usually do, it looks pretty clear out,” She turned back to Nightwing he was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He pauses when she looks back at him, he admires her eyes they always look as if they are shining, he wishes to be able to look into them shamelessly, but he can’t. She wasn’t his, those eyes weren’t his to stare at.

Dick perked up and began speaking so as to not appear as awkward. “I can walk you to your car if you’d like?” She agreed with him, trudging to the door before heading over to her bag where she left her extra change of clothes. 

“I’m gonna change first okay?” She shouted to him in the other room, she walked over to one of the changing stations and when she closed the door behind her and slid the lock into place she untied her robe and it pooled on the floor as she dropped it.

She stood in the green bodysuit and her heels, yawning and stretching before leaning down to unclasp the strap to her heels slipping them off, and grabbing a pair of slippers from her bag. She rolled her thigh-high socks off which were once covered mostly by her heels, and slid her feet into the soothing pair of UGGs feeling that familiar, uncomfortable strain that comes with taking off heels after a long while. She grasped her hands around the fabric on her torso and slid it off, she yawned once again still she hadn’t realized how much her exhaustion was catching up with her. The neon green fabric hit the floor in a silent skid, she redressed in a lavender baggy shirt with colorful, orange and yellow, bubble letters that say "Space Whore" She didn't know what it meant when she bought it and just thought it was cute. Four years ago when her college roommate, Rachel, told her what it meant she was mortified, now it just seemed fitting, she giggled at the thought of it. She slid some underwear on before pulling up a pair of black shorts that hugged her thick thighs, still above all she was comfortable. 

She continued to think back to college and remembered everything that had got her there, she didn’t remember much of her home planet, her brain blocked it out. Still, she was an alien kid forced into the American school system and barely made it out of high school. College was freedom for her, meeting Rachel and her boyfriend Garfield, and becoming their friends was her favorite memory. When she graduated with her degree a close second, she'd felt so proud, she had come so far since she'd come to earth. Graduating with her business degree meant she could have a well-paying job and she didn't have to worry about not being able to afford commodities and necessities. She was satisfied to make something of herself, and have the ability to live comfortably.

Quickly, she was snapped out of her thoughts by Dick in the room next to her, Starfire scooped her clothes and shoes off the floor before forcing it into her pink and orange drawstring bag. She glided the lock on the door open before it swings open and she waltzes out, "Alright let's blast," she shouts out to Dick, and he meets her at the threshold to his office. They walk out of the door that connects the outside to the back rooms. The wind was whipping out in the cool September night. Starfire's red scuffed-up old 2009 Nissan Rouge sat not far outside the door, he walked her over to it before opening her diver's side door and she sat in her comfortably familiar seat.

"Make it home safe alright Star?" She nodded, putting her keys in the ignition and throwing her bag in the passenger seat. The seemingly ancient, horribly beat-up leather of her seat squealed as it lurched. 

"Alright, Boss, hope the rest of tonight is uneventful!" she chuckles, Star understood a quiet night was a good night here, she put her fist out for him to bump and she made a small explosion noise. They laughed, and she waved him off as he walked back to the building, undulating with each step. 

She backed out of the parking lot and felt a searing pain in her chest, ‘what was that?’ She thought, maybe she was just having heartburn but the way the black-haired man was on her mind told her otherwise. She brushed it off.

[simpforboys]

may i request a lo’ak x reader where she’s the golden girl in the omatikayan clan? like there’s talk of her beauty and talent in the hunt? i would love lo’ak just pining for reader and being so in love with her, i can imagine her just being so kind and caring to lo’ak who only heard of insults and complaints before but now that reader is there, he feels so seen and loved and its just FLUFFY LO’AK FIC ACK

STOP BC I LITERALLY LOVE THIS

she looks just like a dream

lo’ak sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: lo’ak finds comfort in you, the shining star.

warnings: mentions of jake being stern with lo’ak (our poor baby >:( ), minor name calling, you love lo’ak a lot, fluff fluff fluff

peyral is the woman who neytiri said was the best hunter in the first movie btw just for those who don’t know!!

the sun just seemed to shine on you, following you around anywhere you went.

you brightened anyone’s day up just by being near them, your elegance and kindness allowing them to instantly cheer up.

the omatikayas began to refer to you as, “y/n the shining star.”

daughter of peyral, being a naturally born hunter was bound to happen.

you were trained from a young age and eventually perfected the art of hunting. you knew how to hunt, loved to dance with your people during festivities, and sang wonderfully with the elders.

you were practically perfect in everyone’s eyes.

especially lo’ak’s.

the poor boy had been so helplessly drawn to you, being trapped in whatever trance you seemed to put him in.

he would have never expected you to fall for him.

you smiled widely as you called out a war cry, your people yelping behind you as your ikrans soared through the sky.

jake sully, the olo’eyktan, had been fond of your skills and wanted to you guide a group through the sky people attacks.

your ikran landed on the high camp as others followed. you jumped off the girl, petting her head as you unattached your queue.

“sìltsan (well done).” you praised.

the village came over to congratulate you on the successful attack, smiling brightly as your eyes wandered for lo’ak.

lo’ak was already looking at you, his ears down as his father began to scold him. but he wasn’t listening, because you just seemed so golden.

you looked just like a dream, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

neteyam nudged him with his shoulder, causing lo’ak to break out of his daze.

when you finally caught him, he was getting scolded by his father.

“irayo (thank you).” you nodded to your people, but all you wanted to do was rest with your mate.

you scurried out of the crowd, going over to where lo’ak stood with his head hung low.

“jake,” you bowed your head at the olo’eyktan.

“y/n.” he bowed his head back, a sign of respect.

“with your permission, may i help your son heal?” you grabbed lo’ak’s arm and held it gently, your three fingers running up and down his skin gently.

jake sighed, still disappointed in his son. but neytiri gave him a look, and jake nodded at you.

you pulled lo’ak away, a smile on his face now that he finally got to see you.

“what had happened?” you asked. the both of you began to walk into your secret area, a place within the forest.

“i wanted to help carry out the weapons with everyone else. of course, the sky people had come from above which caused neteyam to almost get blown up.” lo’ak frowned at his words.

you looked at the boy, cupping his face to make him stare at you.

“what did your father say?”

“called me a disappointment, yet again. how i put everyone in danger.”

“it is not your fault.” you comforted the boy.

he pulled you into his body, holding you tightly as his chest rose and fell against your own.

“i am proud of you, lo’ak.” you whispered in his ear, scratching his braided scalp as he purred against you.

“i don’t deserve you.” he said softly.

“you are insulting me by thinking that. you deserve me just as much as i deserve you.”

“i just don’t know why you would pick a skxawng (idiot) like me out of all the boys in the clan. i just mess everything up.”

the boy now pulled away from you, looking down at his feet as you looked at him with doe eyes. his tail hung down by his legs, a sign of sadness.

“ma lo’ak,” you grabbed his chin softly and guided him back to your face.

“oel ngati kameie (i see you). i have always seen you,” you placed your hand on his, holding it up so he could see as you interlocked it. his four fingers fit perfectly between your three.

“i did not know how much you could adore someone until i met you. you make me completely, and i hope i make you feel completed.”

lo’ak’s ears shifted up as he stared at you, eyes sparkling under the eclipse.

his heart was pounding in his chest, butterflies in his stomach with a blush to his blue cheeks.

he loved you so much.

“i love you, y/n.” he blurted out.

it was the first time you had said the special words.

you grinned widely, tail up in excitement.

“i love you, ma lo’ak.”

you grabbed the boy and pulled him into a kiss, his smile making your heart flutter as he pulled you closer to him.

————-

tags: @mayhemories

+ send me a message if you wanna be tagged in my works!!!

[undermine-the-instinct]

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 (Then I Intend)

Sesshoumaru x reader

Read on A03...

Notes: For @lorelune 's Spring fever '2024 a/b/o collab!

Masterlist.../ Next part....

Summary: The Lord Daiyokai often shuts you up in an inn, every few days of the month, for the demons that are attracted to your bloodscent. It is one of the few graces he allows. You would think its for your safety, and truly it is. Because not only do you seem to forget that he is a demon, but also a man.

Rumors of a bloodhungry demon arise, one that prowls the edges of this ghost town, devouring its residents under the shroud of moonless nights; Of which steadily approaches. Under the dark viel of a new moon, all desires will be brought to light.

NOTE: Rin and Sesshoumaru are so found-family core to me, so I absolutely DO NOT ship SessRin.

Content: Omegaverse, Alpha!Sesshomaru, HumanOmega!Reader, AFAB READER, FEM CODED READER, period mentions, era appropriate misogyny, servant/master dynamics.

Length: 8.9k

Part 1 out of 4

Listen, nine hundred and fifty years before jesus was a child shaking willow leaves out of his tangled curls, the author of the book of solomon wrote: behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.

The inn that Sesshoumaru leads you to is weathered but sturdy, and most importantly, empty.

You’re surprised at the fact that the inn is a honjin, and not a cheap Kichin-yado, like the ones you've seen sparingly in other villages. This is a post town though, so it makes sense.

It is late, but beyond that the night is still, stale. The wind hardly moves, and you know the signs of a desolate town before the wariness in the residents' eyes can tell you. Scared perhaps, and desperate.

The woman who runs the inn is much like it, a bit old, but grounded, and elegant, as she stoops into a low bow and accepts the pouch Sesshoumaru hands with due reverence and trembling hands.

“Four days. Attend to their needs, whatever they may be. Your head depends on it.” You hand Rin to him, and he sets the child down on her feet with care that belies his stern brow. You take his hand next and hop down from A-Un, and he retracts his hand as soon as you are steady on your feet.

“Get inside now. It's late.”

“Yes, My Lord.” You usher Rin in behind the innkeeper, and for just a moment, you turn to look back at your Lord who doesn't follow.

“Will you be joining us?”

His eyes flash like lanterns in the darkness before he turns away. “...Just get settled in.” And he slips into the dark.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It was hard adjusting.

Leaving the 21st century for 1500’s Japan was enough of a shock, but apparently, demons existed. Yeah. Actual Demons. You’ve tried to adjust and find shelter, and a way back home, with no luck. You've been kicked and chased out of villages as mad or an ill omen (For washing your hands so often???), and you've escaped death and harm so often you swear there is either a deity who favors you, or favors your eternal anxiety over this whole situation.

It was by complete chance that you stumbled upon the Lord, in which you listed your capabilities and usefulness with the frazzled energy of a court jester at threat of beheading, the first demon to not drool and try to devour you on sight. 

He cut off your rambling with an odd head tilt and a ‘accompany me then,’ despite the furious squawking from the green imp you've come to know as Jaken. You just grinned, relieved at finally finding yourself secure in this foreign place, and followed along. 

You’re fine doing chores, or calling him Lord, in return for protections and shelter. You've learned how to talk in a 'appropriate manner for a woman' as the Lord ordered, but sometimes you push your luck–but you can’t help it! That reckless attitude followed you from your first life to this one, and that silky pale hair was just sooo pretty not to touch, and the barely perceptible shock in his eyes when you call him by his given name, no honorifics, is worth being forced to walk on foot for a few (dozen) miles. 

Perhaps he might have thought of killing you, a few times, the sniveling thing that you were, if you hadn't piqued his interest with your charming and witty banter...that he often rewarded by cutting your rations.

He’s gotten more lenient about it now when you ‘slip up’ and you think it's like an exposure therapy sort of thing. Except the exposure part is friendship, which you think he’s never had before. It is something the both of you have to adjust to, him, with your friendship! You, with the fact that you were most likely never going home and that demons exist, and probably, subsequently, Hell. Existential crises for everyone, yay...

Yet, another thing that was hard to adjust to was…your monthlies, Things were thrown out of wack when you landed here; Your circadian cycle, sense of appropriate social interaction, your menstration, etc, so it all took a few odd weeks to come back. Your period, that is you still don't know how to talk to people or wake up early. When that happened, Sesshoumaru had already been eyeing you strangely for days you swear, even if you never really caught him in the act.

It was only when he made himself scarce, did you recall how your friend's dogs could smell your stuffs before you even could, and you promptly wanted to cringe yourself out of existence. He’s an Inuu Youkai. Dog demon.

The blood stuff started, you freaked, and Sesshoumaru promptly disappeared far ahead, leaving you to the sneering and bemoaning of Jaken. You didn't have your preferred toiletries or heating pads or anything! It was never a fun time.

The only thing that hinted to Sesshoumaru’s continued presence was the corpses of demons left in his wake, drawn in by the heavy scent of your blood, the thick trail you had left behind. He started shutting you up in an inn somewhere whenever the time comes along now, even if he’s more often late than not, which was still… oddly considerate? Well, one time you all were too far inland so you had to huddle up in a cave and that was not a good time.

Futon and tatami mats might not be a duvet, comforter and down pillows, but it was much better than a cave.

As you’re thinking, Rin trots into the room, and you brighten, immediately waving her over. Joining the group the girl was a selective mute, speaking a few precious words here and there. Surprisingly, even with Sesshoumaru being the Leader of this group and you being her favorite (obviously), the one she spoke the most often to was Jaken. She trailed and played with him often, even if the imp would call it more tormenting.

Still, the girl has done wonders on brightening this dull little group, and you adore her more than you thought you would. 

Rin’s eyes light up with familiarity, and she skips over, plopping in your lap. You let out an exaggerated huff.  

“Woah, I think someone had a bit too much to eat at dinner…” She pouts, shakes her head.

“Really? Because it seems like you put on a few pounds already…” She shakes her head harder and kicks her feet, so naturally you reach to tickle her toes. She screeches in laughter as you hold her in place and count off the little stubs.

“This little piggy went to market, This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy got roast beef, This little piggy had none. And this little piggy cried, ‘Wee, wee, wee!’ all the way home!”

“What sort of nursery rhyme is that?” Jaken sneers as he trots inside.

“What kind of stank face is that?” you snap back. Rin gasps against you, trying to get her breath back, and flinches back in laughter as you fake-reach for her feet again.

Tiring her out and settling into bed is easy enough, and you regale Rin with one of the many tales of your world. You tell her about electricity and skyscrapers, blimps and airplanes and lakes within caves, caves with pink salt and love stories and anything that you can recall. Even Jaken doesn't interrupt, content to sit along and listen to your tales.

In no time at all, Rin droops against you, breathing evenly, eyes barely slitted open in that way that all young children fall asleep. Jaken snores in his corner, that creepy two headed staff in his arms, but you’ve all gotten used to that so you ignore him. Slowly, and carefully, you tuck Rin in, and move to blow out the oil lamp.

But Sesshoumaru is already there, staring down at the both of you, and you jump.

“...!!”  Putting a fist over your pounding heart, you just manage not to scream, and you frown at the Lord.

“You almost scared me into a heart attack!’ You hiss. You can swear he rolls his eyes– but the motion is too swift.

“Humans and their weak organs.” 

“And yet we’ve managed to survive this long, and longer yet.”

“Yes, like crickets. Or roaches.”

“Hey,” you frown. “A roach can survive nuclear fallout. You and I, however, cannot.” He rolls his eyes again, and you definitely catch it, and maybe this time you were meant to.

Rin snores gently, and his eyes are drawn. “These inane stories you tell the child are senseless and impractical.” 

“She likes them, they ease her. You know she’s been having nightmares recently–that last batch of demons brought back some…bad memories.” Sesshoumaru had told you how he had come to keep the girl, after he brought her back to life with Tenseiga. 

You know you’re not the only one who cares for her. Sometimes, if you’re keen enough, you would look over and catch the Lord looking over the child.

She’s be caught in some silly antic, like trying to braid flowers into A-un’s double mane, or refashion Jaken’s clothes to something more fashionable; And the Lord wouldn't smile or laugh no, the Demon is a practically made of marble, but there would be a fondness in his eyes. Then he'd catch you looking and that stony wall would slide back up.

But that did a lot to humanize him in your eyes (ha). He liked to gift both you and the girl new clothes in bright colors, and on especially good days, he would pretend to be asleep as she braids his hair. Jaken would critique her technique and flower placement, it was very found-family core.

You only caught that once though and you bemoan your loss of modern photography. You would’ve loved to get that on camera.

“The stories help get her mind off of that. And did you say ‘impractical’? I would say they’re inspiring–maybe she’ll reinvent planes and be the next Amelia Earheat, traveling the world.”

He cocks his head down at you. “And what exactly happened with this woman, did she live a fulfilling life?”

“Uh, no…whilst trying to become the first woman to complete a circumnavigational global flight, she and her navigator, Fred Noonan disappeared over the central Pacific Ocean.”

“Hence, why women should stay in the home.”

You scowl. “She didn't fail because she was a woman, she failed because she ran out of fuel for her plane. And if you must be misogynistic, she had a man with her!”

“Who let her take lead. Hence, their death.”

You click your tongue. “The inventions of women have revolutionized the world! Wireless transmission technology, central heating, kevlar fabric, the fire escape, mint ice cream; Women can be just as capable if given room to thrive.”

He waves your words away. ” I suppose then I shouldn't let you out of my sight, lest you recreate your lightning in a bottle again.”

“It's called electricity. I almost got the hang of it.”

“Hence.” He walks the length of the room, opens the sliding door to look outside of it. He stalks back in a moment later.

“There are no other guests in the inn, and I paid the old woman enough to keep it that way. After these four days we leave for the mountains.”

“Mountains…” You sigh, burying your face in the blankets.

“Can't we just fly over with A-un?”

“No. There are demon nests I must quell inside. We pass through.”

“Ugh,” You groan, flipping over. “Why? It's gonna be so hard…You know, this isn't how I imagined my life to go. So much hardship,” you whine. “If I wanted to climb mountains I would have joined a hiking group up Mount Everest or Fuji or Hiroshima or something…”

“How did you expect your life to be?” You stop your pouting, turning over to look at him, and the light from the oil lamp paints him in shades, a chiaroscuro of silver and gold.

“...What do you mean?”

“What did you expect out of life? Do you have dreams? Or did they die out when you came here?” 

He waits, and you can't seem to muster up the words under the confusion you're under. Staring at him upside down, you wonder, ‘when did you ever want to know about me?’

He’s the one who breaks eye contact first, a harsh sigh pushing past his teeth.  “Never mind.” He reaches inside the lamp and pinches the fire out. The room is enveloped in deepening shadows and cool tones; All moonlight and deep blues, softening into Dawn.

He turns, and his hair swishes, like a curtain of silver. A full moon, gleaming brighter here than the waning one in the lightening sky.

“Go to sleep.”

“...Goodnight, My Lord.”

“To sleep with you.”

_______________

Inu Yokai are more attuned to their senses than most demons.

It is their nature, as dog demons–their senses are what lend them their extra strength in battle, in the company of other demons–and He is a master of them all. He is a pure blooded Daiyōkai, Lord of the Western Lands. It is expected.

He has honed and sharpened and used them like any weapon, and they serve him just fine, as well as any tool or instinct.

He did not expect them to betray him like this.

The scent of your heat is a heavy, disorienting thing–but still weak compared to the true cycle of a female Inu Youkai. But where a female of his kind would enter estrus twice, maybe thrice a year, you enter it every month.

He caught the tell-tale ends of it, the day you stumbled onto his path. Faint and still unripe, rare, and no less precious for it-Omega. You wonder why so many demons chase and clamor after you, and that is why.

He found himself appalled, disgusted. But not surprised. Mortals are weak and slaves to their own biology. Such a rampant cycle must be their evolutionary way of ensuring that their population does not die out. Yet even he has to scoff at the luck you must have had to survive unblemished. A young, unclaimed, unattended Omega, even if they are human? How crass. How delightful. Like impure jade, saturated and cloudy. He keeps you anyway. He wants you anyway.

You fall into slumber easily, but fretfully, and he watches you alternate between a light and deep sleep. It is not pain or discomfort that ails you though, and he tries to tamp down the rumble in his chest at your drawn brow. He wants to soothe it. He wants to slip beside you and savor your heat.

Instead, he settles for brushing your hair back from your face, arranging it in a neat manner so that your neck stays cool, and the child won't step on it in her hurry. You’ll wake up late, more sluggish than the other two, but he’ll excuse you. Rin will rush out first, intent on cooking breakfast, which Jaken would take over, with the innkeeper's aid. You’ll wake up next, blurry eyed and guilty, intent on pulling your weight. He has instructed Jaken to make sure you rest, but recently you’ve cowed the imp into some leniency. He’ll have to check on you.

But he won't be staying in this inn, or around you long if he can help it. The scent of you before was irregular, heady and dark like blood and earth. It's a stroke for his ego (and what does that say about him) that being around an Alpha, a complimentary presentation, has helped you to…stabilize. You must have been surrounded by Betas, to have such a weak scent. But now that it's settled, your scent is something more floral now, mature, warm. ‘Like honeysuckle’, he compares. 

Pungent, thick, slow, very particular. It could be mistaken for jasmine, or vanilla, but no, honeysuckle. The scent thickens now, in your estrus, trails behind you in wafts. Further fuelled by the blood residue of your menstruation. You smell like wounded animal. Maddening, enticing, frustrating. Lovely.

Blasted instincts. They demand he steps forth and assuage them, but you are human. However his urges, no matter this damn longing, you will never be on equal stance, despite your presentation. That is reason enough. It should be reason enough.

Humans like to pretend that they are better than animals, or mindless beasts, but your body relays those basic desires pretty clearly. 

He wants to taste.

Four days. Four days until the worst of this passes, and he can continue on his journey. Perhaps he should have left you for dead, ages ago. Or killed you himself, to prevent anyone else the right. He wouldn't have to deal with this, and you’d still belong to him. 

But he’s not going to kill you now. He’s come too far for that.

He exhales, and slides the door shut seamlessly. It is near dawn, you all arrived rather late, so he will leave you to your slumber. That dizzying scent of yours heckles at his nerves, raises his hackles just the slightest bit–lengthens his teeth and claws, he cannot meditate like this.

He stalks from the inn, irate. There were plenty of low class demons he saw on the way to this backwater village. He needs to shred something apart. He needs to put his claws in something.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The next morning you wake up late, which is surprising, because usually Rin wakes you up by stepping on your hair rushing out. It lies neat around your face, and you’re left to wonder who did it for you, because it certainly wasn't you. 

Rubbing the dredges of sleep from your eyes, you still as an image comes to mind; A dream, the glint of something sharp, like a whetted knife, and…something else, a soft rattle in the dark. A weight on top of you? But kinda nice, like a warm, weighted blanket in winter. Hm…White scales. The heck?

“Whatever…? Weird dream…” You would have looked up your zodiac sign for any clues in your era, but there are things to be done. The Lord doesn't shut you in an inn so you can idle about. Maybe you can find some chores to help out with.

You shake your head at the images, and get ready for the day. Jaken and Rin are nowhere to be seen, and your body aches sorely like you did a full cardio workout the night before.

You only just finish getting dressed when there's a knock, and the sliding door opens, revealing the innkeeper kneeling beyond it.

“Forgive me for intruding upon you, honored guest. Breakfast is ready in the common area. Or would you prefer to eat in your room?”

“Uh, no, I‘ll head down, thank you..” You follow her down the empty hallways, until you reach the common room. Rin and Jaken have already set up all the plates; Jaken huffs when he sees you, lifting his sleeve to his nose while Rin just beams. You decide to focus on her, Jaken has always had a sore spot with you.

“Good morning Rin! Did you help set this all up?” She nods, before gesturing wildly with her hands, your eyes flitting to catch it all, the odd few words spilling out. You can understand her easily, by now.

“Oh, and you helped cook too? Well why didn't you call me?! I feel horrible that I just slept in while you were working so hard!”

“It wasn’t hard; You would know if you weren't so incompetent. This is just something any person can do.” Jaken lifts his chin in the air, self vindicated, nose still covered. You are not impressed.

“Thank you for the snark, this early in the morning Jaken. Anything else you would like to add?”

He scoffs. “You should be taking my criticism with due gratitude! I mean, what sort of servant sleeps in and doesn’t even help cook breakfast?”

“I am no servant, I am a companion. And so what? Are you going to take breakfast away as my punishment, Jaken?” You smile and take the bowl of rice Rin hands you, lifting an eyebrow.

“Why, I should!”

“But you won't. Because you know the Lord wouldn't approve.” And with that, he shuts up, the click of his teeth snapping together audible. The innkeeper flinches, and draws back.

And, alright, you were only half bluffing; Sesshoumaru would be upset, but only because Jaken has no right to dole out punishments. That's his job.

You see the owner lady bow and start to head out, but you call to her before she could leave.

“Hey, have you eaten yet? You should sit with us.” She smiles politely, shaking her head, still bowing. She isn't that old actually, now that you look at her. Laugh lines and crow's feet, salt and pepper hair. Fifties, perhaps. Her eyes keep flickering towards Jaken, and she breathes shallowly.

“Esteemed guest, I am honored, but I could not dare to impose.”

“I’m asking you to impose. Don’t worry about Jaken, I can punt him like a football at any given opportunity.”

“No you can’t!” Before Rin can fill it, you take your empty teacup and beam it off his head. It lands with a satisfying crack and the imp falls with a sad cry. 

“See? Also, the Lord is the esteemed guest here, not us. And, he’s not here. Please, sit and eat,” you tilt your head, peering just a bit closer at the woman.

“You look tired, actually. Are you alright?” Luckily, it doesn't take much more convincing before she sighs, and slides in the seat next to you, across Rin and Jaken.

“It is fine. There is much to do when you run an inn.”

“But you don't get many customers in this shack of a town, do you?” You glower at Jaken, who flinches back. You turn back to the innkeeper as he mutters something about  “hormones and lady cycles’, in which Rin scolds him for you, and introduce yourself.

“And the little girl here is Rin.”

“H-Hello,” Rin stutters the word out, and bows. You watch the innkeeper for any sign of reproach, but she just smiles and bows back.

“I am pleased to be in such fine company. I am Numachi.” She smiles, and easily looks ten years younger.

“‘Numachi?’” Jaken always has to ruin things though.

“Odd choice for a family name.”

Her brow doesn't furrow, but she closes her eyes, inclines her head. “It was my late husband's name.”

“Well it's still–”

“ANYWAYS,” you cut in before he has another chance to be crude, “Not to validate Jaken, but it does seem you don't have many…patrons. So why do you look so tired?”  She laugh-sighs, shoulders slumping, and the words spill from her, easily, like she's been waiting for someone to lend an ear.

“It was easier when I had my husband and two sons. But… after my husband passed, they left to travel to a more prosperous town, leaving me here…I run the errands by myself now.” You frown.

“They just left you alone when you needed them most?” She shakes her head. “Oh, no, they wanted to bring me along! But I’m much too attached to this place. It’s where I worked and stayed with my husband, after all. They are not far away anyways, they visit me every few months to check in. In fact, I received a letter at the beginning of this month that they would visit soon!” A smile paints her face, before consideration crawls over it; She lifts her sleeve and moves closer to you.

“Though, it's only after the new moon, and for that, I worry less. This post town used to be very prosperous, with many travelers and smaller inns. You can see the wreckage of them further into the town. But there's a demon, who's been eating all the residents for the past twenty years, under the veil of every new moon, and only then. The victims numbers keep increasing as time goes on, and soon…we will also be gone.”

Your mind quickly flashes to Sesshoumaru; The new moon will be soon, but for the next few nights at least, no one would be eaten, the demon wont get close unless they have a death wish. You think to tell her that but she goes on.

 “Now we mostly trade amongst ourselves. It takes such a long time for me to finish all these chores, cleaning the rooms and the bathhouse, checking the hot springs and collecting my small wares to trade, or collecting the things I've traded in advance for.” Numachi-san looks at you, almost conspiratorially, though it's hard on such a soft face as hers.

“I…have traps further upstream the river than anybody goes. It's where you can catch the fattest fish, though I only catch a few every couple of days. It's very far upstream, so that nobody may stumble upon them and steal them, a little aways from the rice paddies Taiga-san owns. Though, I supposed the fish make their own way out of the traps, with how long it takes me to sneak up there.” 

You pick at the fish on the table, seasoned with herbs and salt and vinegar, and take a mouthful of rice. Chew, swallow.

“There isn't much I am currently needed for, or need to do. I'd be happy to help with some chores. And please–” you cut her off, “don’t refuse because of hospitality. It would be kinder for the both of us if you received some help, and I find something to keep myself busy with.” 

Rin immediately bounces up in her seat, rice grains stuck to her cheeks and waving her hand in the air. You laugh.

“And it seems like you have another eager helper too. Three, with Jaken.”

“I did not–” He withers under the blinding smile you shoot his way. 

“So,” you grin back at Numachi-san. Please. what can we do first?”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The empty basket bumps against your hip as you rush into the village. Jaken had kicked up a fuss, had wanted you to stay inside, but Rin had wheezed past him, wiping the floor with a rag, and started chasing his feet. While he was distracted, you memorized the list of things you were supposed to get, and made your escape.

The village really was tiny, even in the midst of such a sunny day. In a time when the village should be bustling, people just kept their eyes forward and went about their business. Oh, there was of course the ladies in their tight knit groups, knitting and gossiping. There was the odd maiden who glanced longingly at some fellow or another, a couple cute village boys, all stereotypical bullshit, yeah yeah, but this town felt…hollow.

Or rather, drained. Like an old, cracked egg.

Numachi-san was right, you saw a few wrecked buildings as you made your way through town, following her instructions. They looked old and fragile, like houses made out of matchsticks. You hurried past these buildings, set on your way.

First, you had to get to the apothecary, for the bundle of herbs she owed the innkeeper, then, to old man Taiga for the rice. But the rice paddies were on the other side of town, where the streams ran from. You could get the rice and check on the traps tomorrow. 

Apothecary and cleaning today, rice and fish and cooking tomorrow. 

The apothecary was a small, but a long nook of a place, dimly lit and crowded with plants, hanging vines and drying bundles of other things. The woman who ran it was a frail old lady, white haired, who hardly spoke a word of greeting to you before she dropped an assortment of…things into your basket. You checked it over–expensive things. Honey and pears and mushrooms, spices–Parsley, chrysanthemum, kaiware, …some other plants you haven't been in this era long enough to identify. 

You were just sorting the basket on your arm when the lady slipped a few extra stuffs into your basket.

“Oh, was that also–”

“Extra.” 

“Extra? For wha-” 

“You're bleeding aren’t ya.” A woman of few, but blunt words. All knowing and terrifying in that knowledge. You nod.

She inclined her head towards the basket. “Ginger and ginseng to revitalize and heal the body, make it into a tea. You’re gonna need it, with that Lord of yours.”

“...What about him?” She rolled her eyes, a strange dark oak. 

“Don’t be dense girl. He shut you in that inn for a reason, right? Take advantage! He doesn’t seem the type to wanna go at it in a cave or some sort. “ And she leans in grinning, sharp and white toothed.

“You gotta watch out though, those types are the ones who pretend to be all dignified, but they’re the ones who go at it like beasts.” And yeah oookay you get what she means.

“Oh, no no no no nooo, we’re not here for that. I’m just a companion! And…my period just ended and I need rest, you know?” But she doesn't buy it.

“So you’re not his wife, or concubine?”

“No.”

She nods. “Not yet then. How ‘bout that little girl, she yours?”

“Rin, the child? No, no, we just took her in.”

“We?"  You catch your slip of tongue a moment too late, and flush red. The old lady’s edged eyes seem to stare right through you, sharp and inscrutable, as she grinds and cuts her herbs.

“Having trouble carrying that Lord’s child then, are you? That why you adopted her–”

“Goodness, no! I said it’s not like that!  She is just…part of the group.” Even that sounds weak to your ears, and you start to back out of the shop.

“‘A companion’...” She clicks her tongue. “How naive. He’s a high class demon and a man. You’re either a snack or a concubine, and with that sweet young scent and body, you might end up as both. Best take advantage before then."

"What?"

"If you're on or near off your bleeding, you're at your most fertile. If he hasnt already he's gonna try to pop a litter in ya." You make a sound of disgust and she rolls her eyes like a grandmother at an unruly child.

“Listen, I’m a part of this group. He's not that depraved to do that, you dont know what you’re talking about!” You're shocked at the volume of your voice, bouncing off the walls, and the most this lady offers you in a raised bow.

“Ah, I see. You like him but you’re scared–of what? Or is it a pride thing?”

“I don’t-”

“You're naive, but not clueless then. But pride is an easy price to pay for a good life. Make a move if you haven't already. Seems he already cares for ya, if he’s feeding ya and shutting you in an inn for your bleedings.”

“It's a two way street sort of thing. I get rest and he doesn't have to fight all the demons attracted to the blood.”

“Really? Well I bet he gets the days wrong, always shuts you up when the bleedings already ending. Leaves lots of bodies on the way too for ya, huh? It's like when my kitty brings me birds; It's about proving strength and showing he can provide. Demon and a man, remember?”

“You don't know him like I do. You don't know anything.”

“I know most women don't get a choice between comfort or a pleasant partnership; you got the chance for both and you’re not making any moves. If I was young as you I'd kill to take your place. Many women have.”

“So I should, on their behalf? He’s arrogant and aloof and looks down on humans,” you counter. “Why would he want me?”

“He’s sympathetic enough to take in a human woman and child and an imp, so maybe he’s not all that. Maybe you should ask why exactly he shuts you up. Or why you want him in the first place?” She resumes her chopping, the scent wafting up as bitter and sharp as her eyes. She pauses.

“If you live to make a decision, come back here. I got things to help you, whether you want to give him a baby or not.” She doesnt look up as you scoff, or run out the shop. You try to cast her words from your mind.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

It got your mind running though.

“Numachi-san,” The innkeeper elegantly turns her head towards you, prime and ready to serve. It kinda irks you, her effortless grace and subservience but you ignore that.

“Why do you think the Lord dropped us off here?”

“Hm?” She tilts her head. “Honored guest…I wouldn't dare to presume, it is not my place.” 

“I'm asking you to presume. I won't hold any offense, so please.” Her eyes slowly slid over to Jaken, who was busy telling Rin off for the mess she was making. Rin just grins him away. 

Numachi-san slides over to your side, lifting her sleeve to cover her mouth.

“Well, if I may be audacious…Are you not the Lord’s wife?” You would choke, if the apothecary had not shocked you with this presumption earlier.

She hesitantly went on as you remained silent.

“The Lord has demanded your comfort. You rode in on the back of a mule demon with the child, and you were…bleeding. I saw the spotting. Oh, honored guest, do I go too far?” You shake your head, waving your hand at the crease in her brow.

“No, it's a...reasonable idea to come to. But it is none of that, I assure you.”

“Oh? You are a…servant of the Lord then? How generous he is.” Generous is the last thing you would call him but you can't find the words to correct her.

Curiosity pokes at you. “Numachi-san, sorry if this is too much for you, but what was your husband like? Was he kind to you?”

She bursts into laughter, and the sound of it is so sudden and bitter, your eyes widen. She looks at you with something like pity, like you’re some young thing.

“Kindness is a rare thing in this world, honored guest. That's why we call it graciousness– because it always comes at a price. No, my husband was not kind, but he was gracious.” Her eyes seem so far away, and she sighs in ages past.

“He helped me with the hotsprings and the fish traps upstream. Getting firewood and supplying the inn with whatever we needed, rice, grain, barley, herbs, meat.  My sons, when they were young, preferred to help me inside, at least until the younger twin started joining his father outside more often. They both didn't like people that much, busybodies. It was very crowded in those days so I understand.” And her eyes flick to the sides.

“But my husband…I cared for him, and he protected me. I’ve always been a frail thing, so I think he took it as ensuring my safety. I wasn’t madly in love with him as I was in my youth, but we enjoyed each other's company, which is more to be said then most marriages. Even so, after my sons were born…My duty as a mother overrode my duties as a wife. Not that it ever amounted to much, now that they all left me…” Another sigh, just pushing a small sob, her lipid eyes wet.

Wife. You’d never be a wife, in this era at least. Much less a willing mother. The chance of finding a decent partner that won't try and force you into domesticity is low, and lower still with the chances of Seshoumaru ever letting you go. 

If you asked him, would he let you go? Maybe as you get older. Maybe if you ever found a way back to your world. But what about Rin? It's not like you could take her with you. 

That night, after Rin has fallen asleep after another tale, you go wandering to the end of the hall, where the more opulent rooms lay. It's been unoccupied, but waiting a few minutes in the room yields results; Sesshoumaru appears as if he teleported, face forever calm and blank.

“What are you doing in my room?” The room you haven't been using? You want to snort, but rein that particular response in.

“Forgive me my Lord,” you incline your head. “I just had a bit of an…inquiry I wanted to bring to you.”

“And what ‘inquiry’ do you bring me?” 

To your credit, you only hesitate for a second at the infliction in his voice. Almost a challenge, but with none of the wariness to suggest he expects any real threat from you. You press.

“Why do you send us to an inn during my bleedings?”

---------------

It's not a particularly shocking question, but he wonders why you asked it. And why his pulse spiked ever so slightly.

“The blood scent attracts demons.”

“...Forgive me my Lord, but you are strong enough to deal with them; The corpses you leave behind are plain evidence. And I suppose it's more than that…” So you noticed. You bite the nail of your thumb, already red and agitated like it's a habit, which it is. He wants to tell you to stop, you don't need to lose any more blood than you already have. 

“It's just…We always stay at an inn towards the end of my period, always. If it's the blood that attracts predators, why not shut me up while I'm bleeding then? I know you…scout farther ahead but I bet you can tell when or before it starts, with your superior senses. We can plan better for this, y’know.”

How nonchalant, so self satisfied you seem with yourself that you meet his eyes head on. But as he stands there, holding your gaze like water in his palm, some shame finally finds you, its red flush crawling over your neck and ears and face. 

How lovely. “You don't know, do you?” Your shame, that is.

“Huh?” Even now, honey wafts throughout the room. It's all he can smell–blood residue and earth, honeysuckle and moonlight. He inhales so slowly, so carefully, to not disturb it, lest it spreads throughout the room and stick to everything.

“I don't know…what?” He doesn't answer you. He looks about; certainly one of the better rooms, still paling in comparison for his tastes. The futon has not been brought out, good. He doesn't need any more temptations. 

How clueless you are to his yearning, desire let sit to simmer for gods know how long.

Maybe from when you first stumbled onto his path, or how he noticed you never cowered near Jaken nor A-un, or even him; Cautious, but never fearful. Perhaps when your scent mellowed out with the addition of the child, or when you handed her flowers to braid in his hair. He wonders what the both of you would have done, had he dropped the farce of sleep, content to breathe in milk and honey. Would you jump back in shock, the child in your arms, or would you have grinned cheekily, teeth and all?

You're going to be the bane of his existence.

As he gazes about the room, he strides over to you in that way that makes you falter; Too swift and smooth to look like anything more than gliding, the illusion of being too fast to track as he stands before you; He tilts his head at the little squeak that leaves your lips as you stand eye to eye with his shoulder pauldron. 

Everything about you screams acquiescence, submission, fertility. Your smell, the extra luster to your hair, the extra plump to your face and hips….

He sighs. He finds himself pressing the flat of his tongue against his fangs, the roof of his mouth, to catch that cloying fragrance. There is a sort of fondness he holds for you that he is not sure is wise, nor gentle; It's a kind of fondness that demands both your tears and your desperation. 

“Attend to me.”

------------

“Attend to me.” 

You mind blanks, before you spring into action. He walks over to the low table and seats himself, while you try to figure out how to take off his metal shoulder pad..thingy. It's attached by these red ropes, which are attached to that other black metal petal…thingy–wait, you should probably undo that yellow sash first. And that fluffy cape (it's sooo fluffy. But also literally alive? What is it?)

Sesshoumaru doesn't aid nor correct you, he hardly sighs as you fumble about, shutting his eyes as you work. He inhales deeply, once. He must be tired. Maybe that's why he’s entertaining you and not throwing you out the room. There's been a few close calls of that, so you know the warning signs- he emits none of them. He’s calm.

Finally, you get to that cherry blossom patterned Kimono, a crisp white and red pattern. Expensive. Hm. You wonder what his thread count is. Must be high. He lifts a hand as you hesitate for his undershirt; He just loosens the collar (and, skin!), and gestures towards the sake on the table that just suddenly appeared, a single cup to match.

As you pour it, a thought pops into your head.

“You can repair your armor and clothing with demonic energy, yes?” He actually raises an eyebrow, but only by a few millimeters. “Yes. And?”

So you couldn’t just like…Magic it all off?

You only shake your head and pour the alcohol into the flat sakazuki cups. He takes it from you and drains it immediately, and you refill it quickly. He drinks, and you look him over.

Your eyes trail down his form, not for pleasure, (because yeah, he’s beautiful, but he’s so beautiful it’s kinda scary, you know?), your eyes fall to the empty sleeve of his left arm, and you sober. 

He had dropped you off in some village one day, where you stood for a few days. Jaken was the one to retrieve you, and you came back to a demon lord with one less arm and a tiny child with matted hair. You did your best, but you were only able to fix one of those.

He catches your gaze before you can tactfully retreat, and his eyes narrow, daring you.

You cringe back. “Okay, okay, no need for the death glare. Just…curious.”

His unspoken question prompts you to answer.

“Just…um…Does it feel any different?” It's stupid even before it leaves your mouth, and you see the growing irritation in the set of his mouth, You set down the sake to wave your hands.

“No, no, I mean…! Like, there's stories, from my era I mean, and other stories from before obviously, but amputees each recall their experience differently. One thing that's common though is this thing called Phantom limb; It's like…they have the feeling of still having their limb, even though it is not there. I was just curious if you had…experienced that…” Your voice trails off, meek.

When you look up, he’s looking at the loose sleeve. His hair covers whatever expression he wore before he turns back to the lowrise table.

“Oftentimes, I could swear my hand would be curled, but when I look it is still gone.” A clawed hand raises itself, and removes the shoulder of his undershirt, revealing the ragged scar marring the milkiest skin you ever saw. 

“It aches, and not just the old wound. Phantom limb is accurate. I have to look and remind myself of what I lost.”

You try not to wince. “At least you have your life. I wouldn’t say you lost.” Nobody said anything of what happened to him, how he got so injured. You had to bribe Jaken with some rice cakes to even know it was another inu youkai, or hanyo, as Jaken sneered, so it's kinda scary to think there are demons stronger than the Lord in front of you, whose face and skin is smooth, but his eyes stony, like gilded marble.

“No, I lost that battle.” Sore loser then? You shrug.

“Well, I count it as a victory if I’m still alive at the end of it all.” And your impassive Lord actually snorts, closing his eyes.

“Spoken like a true loser then. Weakling.”

“Yes, and a coward. But alive still.” Silence threatens to fall, so you rush before it. 

“Could you, possibly, regrow it?” He is a demon after all…

But his fist unclenches, settles back in his lap. His face is calm again, like a freshwater lake.

“There is something halting that.”  And still, Silence falls like a dull knife.

This time, he takes the sake bottle and serves himself, quickly downing the drink and serving himself another. Are…demons impervious to the effects of human alcohol or…?

Maybe he’s just trying to get plastered???

Slowly, an idea forms in your head, so slowly, solidifying like fog. You act on it before you can lose the courage, opening your mouth to recite.

“Countless,

My Lord, are the years

That stretch before you;

In such an illustrious house,

A dewdrop is what I would be”

…People in this era are big on poetry, right? They’re not supposed to look at you like you just spoke in a dead language, right? 

“That is Ise no Miyasudokoro. You know of her, in your modern era?” You ignore the snide.

“I was in college, working on getting my Master’s degree. One of my electives was a poetry course.” You shrug. “So yes, I know of her.”

He affords you a look, an actual look; He checks the planes of your face and the depths of your eyes, and you don't know what he's looking at exactly, but he responds,

“The everlasting (moon):

Growing in its midst

Is my home, so

In its light alone

Can I place my trust.”

Oh! You perked up at the mention of a moon, y'know, people here really like using it as a metaphor, another poem ready at your lips;

“As a general rule

I would not praise the moon

For it

Piles upon men

The burden of increasing age.”

“And now Ariwara no Narihira? Was he also part of your curriculum?” You notice it, the regard in his voice, like a drop of paint in a glass of water, settling.

“Anyone interested in literature can't skip over Ariwara. He’s a classic.” Again, bluffing a little; your teacher passed him over very briefly, and you hate leaving any stone unturned, so you did some research on your own. (And thank goodness)

“I know of him and his work, but he is far from my favorite. Do you, perhaps…hold any favor to a poem in particular?”  

A nail, long and sharp, trails the flat rim of the sake glass. He seems to be contemplating, before he answers you in that impassive voice of his, even and toneless.

“In the summer mountains

From the treetop heights

Cuckoos’

Calls fill the sky

As does my love.”

Oh wow… “Ki no Turayuki? That's oddly…passionate.”

“Do you think I'm incapable?”

“Of passion?” What a loaded question. “No my Lord just…restrained.”

“I prefer…longanimous.”  You laugh at that.

“What adversity do you face to show such restraint then,  Lord Sesshoumaru? The world is already at the tips of your fingers.” He doesn't answer, but drinks. The silence that sails in is more weighted than you expected, and you regret your choice of words, already. Maybe he would have spoken of these ordeals. Was it the alcohol, or is the Lord being more…indulgent this night?

You turn your head, and notice the shoji door left ajar. So you stand, and draw it back, letting the night breeze filter throughout the room. It's nice. The perfect temperature, and the moon is just short of a perfect waning crescent. Soon there will be a new moon, and there will be no demons attacking this month. How lucky.

“Poems from the Sengoku era focus mostly on the tanka and renga format. In my era of modern technology, there is access to many forms of poetry, from all over the world. It's hard for me to pick a favorite.”

“Indecisive as always.”

“Oh, is that mirth I hear? I consider myself enamored with the written word. Even if I can only remember bits and pieces, from here and there.”

“Then what can you remember?”

“Bits and pieces,” you repeat, “lines and quotes. And if I must recite them rapid-fire I  fear I’ll only prove redundant.”

“I want to hear you, nevertheless.” You have to calm yourself, otherwise you fear your heart will leap out instead of your words if you speak. You wrestle it back down your throat, but there's still a tremor in your voice.

“Bits and pieces, hm?...It is late now, I am a bit tired; the sky is irritated by stars. And I love you, I love you, I love you – and perhaps this is how the whole enormous world, shining all over, can be created – out of five vowels and three consonants’, by Vladirmir Nabokov. Nizar Qabbani, ‘Because my love for you reaches higher than words, I've decided to fall silent.’ Venetta Octavia, ‘I say your name and it feels like aching, feels like paradise’. Andrea gibson, ‘come teach me a kinder way to say my own name.’  ‘Will you remember that i existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?’” 

“That last one was by Haruki Murakami,” you sigh. “...You can imagine, I got high grades for my poetry  elective.” You try to laugh, to make light of this moment, but it feels stilted and awkward.

The cool air stings a little as you breathe, but you hold it in, and exhale. And when you look up, you jolt.

He finishes closing the last bit of distance, looks down at you from his imposing height. How old is he…? His face you wouldn't call youthful, despite its softness. It's those eyes- they’re too pointed.

“Do I displease you, my lord?”

“No, you do not.” A knuckle taps at your head. “But your denseness frustrates me.”

“You mean…?” He rolls his eyes, a soft snarl building in his throat.

“You are not one for subtlety, are you.” His nails, like razors hovering closer. You could shiver, and not from the cold. Not from fear. Even when that strange hesitancy of his melts beneath a scowl, and he reaches forward more assuredly, yes, but rougher too. You speak before he touches you.

“You don’t have to hurt me, y’know.” His eyes streak back to yours, breathless and bright at your own boldness.

“You don't have to hurt me to justify touching me. You can just…”

Slowly, you tip your face into the open plane of his palm, cool, like all the rest of him, you’d imagine. His fingers flex, his hands so large that his nails brush your hairline. 

His hand isn’t smooth, it’s rough and calloused and cold, but the coolness feels nice. So you press your face closer and use your hands to hold it there.

You don't expect the sharp exhale, or for when he pulls you closer, and you jolt at the suddenness. A finger strokes at the hairs on the back of your neck and you shiver, again.

“I’m disciplined enough to restrain my desires, not curb them when they are released.” And just as quickly as he pulled you close, he let you go. “Tell me now. I won't have a tearful servant girl in my bed; You must be willing or not at all.” He almost sighs the words, continuous and melodious in that voice.

Is it taking advantage, if you give in? Lust was easy, easier to indulge.

You aren’t going to deny the butterflies you stomp down, in these quiet moments. And these moments aren’t infrequent– whether you continue to talk around a dying fire at a campsite, or taking shelter for a storm within a cave. It was a bit of a girl crush you had on the Lord, and you could give in, very willingly.

But should you? What would the ramifications be…?

“I…” And you pause, because you hear something. You perk up, turning back to the door you came from. You listen, both of you, and then you hear it again–muffled cries. Rin is having another nightmare.

“My Lord, Rin is…” You hesitate to go, the moment clinging to you like a mist, but then you hear your name.

You’re already detangling yourself from his hold and making your way towards the door when you remember yourself, and turn to bow towards your Lord.

“I’m sorry, I have to go make sure Rin is…” He waves you off, turns towards the open window where you can't see his face, see him gather himself.

“Yes. Go. See to her.”     

You nod and step back, but a part of you feels off, leaving him like this. What timing.

“I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time, but I haven't told you my favorite poem yet, my Lord. I hope we can continue this conversation at another time.” You bow, one last time, before you hurry out.

------------

Sesshoumaru sighs, viscous longing in his chest like hunger pains.

How dense are you? Must he lay out each of his desires for you for you to understand? You speak words of affection so easily, that when he does the same they fall upon deaf ears. He is not one to be overt. You are horrible at looking in between the lines, though.

It is wrong to feel this way over a human. Weak things, inherently inferior, yes, but perhaps you are all the more enchanting for it. It would be more unnatural if he were to let you be, to not taste the salt of your skin or the honey that wafts from you. The hint of arousal he caught, when he towered over you. You are an Omega in heat. He is an Alpha. What else is there? You serve him anyways, should you not be rewarded so?

His skin crawls, where it has touched yours.

And still, that honeyscent sticks throughout the room.

A/N: Was the poetry a bit too on the nose? I feel like sesshoumaru isnt the type for grand dispalys of affection or confession, he's way more lowkey lol. But here are the poems I used in order.

Ise/ Ise/ Narihira/ Ki No Tsurayuki/

[jester-lover]

A Sunday Kind of Love

Twisted wonderland characters with a girlfriend who wears suits

feat- Trey, Jade, Floyd, Jamil, Rook, Lilia, and silver

cw- fluff, stupid gender roles being destroyed, very flustered boys, insecurity (not from the reader), talks of gender roles/identity, whoever reads this is so cool, reader is so hot and confident (did I mention she’s so hot)

Trey

Mmm domestic baker boy

He is so enamored with your confidence and classy attitude

For the first time in his life, he’s genuinely flustered by the sheer presence of another person

You two tend to both keep Riddle in check, him with his calming attitude, and you with your gentle sternness

The place where he comes from, women are expected to be more subservient, so he likes to think of you like the Queen of Hearts herself, a headstrong woman capable of taking control of her own destiny

Trey loves when you allow him to help you with your outfits, like buttoning up your jacket for you

He was probably a little intimidated by you at first, with your powerful aura and sleek aesthetic, you brought intimidation with you wherever you went

Another thing Trey loves is order and cleanliness, your clean and sublime aesthetic keeps him stable

Househusband material, no explanation needed

“Sweetheart, your lapel needs fixing, do you mind if I get that for you?”

Jade 

The both of you have such staunch, serious aesthetics, with such caring, passionate personalities behind them

You value the way you dress and look in a way Jade admires greatly, he knows the value of dressing well to create an image for yourself

Jade understands the trust you can earn from people when they deem you to be elegant and professional

You two revel in the looks of both awe and confusion, hand in hand

No matter if you're wearing the most outlandish colorful suit, he’ll find an accent color to incorporate into his own outfit

It's a small way for him to show people that he’s taken

His air of confidence is often left on his coat hanger, knowing that the both of you have a shared sense of comfort with one another always makes him smile

Jade knows what it feels like to not entirely fit into a societal mold, he himself is a literal fish out of water, and he understands that he needs to support you as a young woman accidentally portaled to an all-boys school

You two find unity and connection in your differences

“Dear, would you like to share a cup of tea after my shift is over?”

Floyd

Floyd enjoys fashion and business-type silhouettes, even if he tends to loosen up his own

Seeing that you are a young woman, and Floyd is (begrudgingly) respectful of your personal space, he’ll always ask before squeezing you

That is until you start squeezing him first

He loves a woman who takes initiative!

Floyd absolutely adores all of your more fancy outfits, especially during galas

He finds those fancy events so boring, until you show up and blow everyone out of the water

Floyd finds it especially funny when irrelevant little guppies try to make fun of your traditionally masculine attire, and you just laugh at them

You two share a similar aloofness towards the opinions of others, and it just brings you closer together

After a while, he is sorta wrapped around your finger, grinning and going pink at every wink you send his way

“Shrimpy’s dressed all fancy, is it just for me?”

Jamil 

Jamil tends to prefer more casual clothing for himself, but the allure of you in a full suit is powerful to him

You probably meet at one of Kalim’s parties, where your aura of grace and androgyny catches his attention

If he finds time to talk to you, he’ll be stuttering over himself constantly

Why would a strong, successful young woman like you want him? Why would you settle for second best, when you could have Kalim and by extension everything else?

You did want him though, you appreciated his tough work ethic, and his dreams to better himself beyond his condition

Jamil usually finds dressing or taking care of other people to be tedious, but when it's you, he can’t refuse

He loves helping you style yourself, especially if you let him do your nails to match

Small moments of time shared between the two of you, helping you tie your tie, or do your makeup, keep Jamil going

Another one who’s prime househusband material

“I-I’m not blushing, now would you let me paint your nails in peace?”

Rook 

Rook is very curious about you when he sees you, sure, he knows about feminine men, but he has yet to converse with a masculine woman!

Oh but when he does, Rook finds himself startled

He has never met someone with such effortless charisma, such power and dominance in language alone!

Our poor little french boy has a crush almost immediately

He writes you poetry about your beauty, about the gorgeousness of your androgyny and loving spirit, slipping the notes into the shaky mailbox outside Ramshackle 

Rook thought he would get away with it long enough to confess, but you were too smart, and figured out it was him, his red face during that conversation was delightful

With Rook as your partner, you often take long walks together, hands placed snugly in your suit pockets

His favorite accessory on you is a pair of cufflinks, which he gets you often as gifts

“Mon ange, you look absolutely brilliant, the two of us will be the talk of the town!”

Lilia 

Lilia is often considered to be a feminine individual by strangers, he knows what it's like to break gender norms

You have a certain air of power around you he has never seen on a human, so he often jokingly questions if you are human after all

It's almost impossible to make Lilia blush, the closest you’ve ever gotten was during a dance, when you spun and dipped him

Lilia often goes clothes shopping with you

Especially if you enjoy a more vintage aesthetic of suits, who’d be better to ask then someone who was actually there?

He loves your confidence most of all, Lilia is very comfortable in his skin, so of course he’d want a partner just the same

You know you’re hot, he knows he’s hot, it's a match made in heaven 

“Beastie, your tie is shifting, won’t you allow me to tuck it in for you?”

Silver 

The moment you walk through the portal, Silver has his eyes on you

You love flustering him, he’s such a sheltered person after all

Pulling him in by his collar to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder in pictures, and so much more

Silver is enamored by the way you dress, it feels so mysterious and yet so open and kind

Besides teasing your poor little boyfriend, you also love being affectionate towards him, like slipping your blazer over his sleeping form whenever he falls asleep in inconvenient places

He saw you then, with your blazer off and your vest slightly unbuttoned, and he knew he saw beauty in its purest form

Silver may be shyer when it comes to romance, but you’re naturally dominant nature helps him push himself forward with you

Everytime he buys you a bouquet of flowers, he makes sure to tuck one into the pocket of your suit, so you can keep a bit of his love with you at all times

“I saw these black petunias, and they reminded me of you, I hope whenever you look at them you think of me too.”

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

Nadira (Shree 420, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai)— She had a blast playing the femme fatal in Indian films in the 50s. Also the costumes she wore in Shree 420 are absolutely iconic. It's important to mention that she was Jewish. She was born Farhad "Florence" Ezekiel in Baghdad to an Iraqi Jewish family. They moved to India sometime in the 1940s. The funny thing is that she originally wanted to convert to Catholicism and become a nun but joined the film industry instead as her family desperately needed money. Even though she was unfortunately typecast in femme fatale roles after playing the nightclub entertainer Maya in Shree 420, she always gave 110% to every role she was cast in. Apparently she acted in a German film as well? She was also one of the most highly paid actresses in the Indian film industry and was one of the few Indians to own a Rolls Royce.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

Nadira:

I just submitted a whole list of golden-era Bollywood stars without whom I thought this tournament could not conscionably be considered complete BUT Nadira has got my personal vote for Hottest of the lot. She played a bunch of delicious vamp roles in her youth before graduating to being a creepy spiderlady antagonist type in middle/older age. Rare is the still in which she looks like she's NOT about to gnaw your face off. Yow!

[elryuse]

Hierarchy

Part 3 : New Faces, Same Cases

Y/n POV

The morning sun painted the sky in hues of gold and pink as I pedaled my beloved bicycle towards Jooshin High. The wind whipped through my hair, carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. I felt a sense of peace and tranquility wash over me, a stark contrast to the anxiety that had been gnawing at me in the days leading up to this moment.

As I approached the school, a line of luxury cars snaked along the driveway. Their polished exteriors gleamed under the morning sun, a testament to the wealth and privilege of their owners. A red carpet had been rolled out, a crimson ribbon leading to the grand entrance.

I watched in fascination as a group of four girls emerged from the cars. They were dressed in designer outfits, their long legs and flawless makeup drawing the attention of everyone around them. Wonyoung, Ryujin, Minjeong, and Jimin—the angels of Jooshin High, as they were known—stepped onto the red carpet, their every movement a picture of grace and elegance.

I was both dazzled and dumbfounded. What was the significance of the red carpet? Why were they treated so differently? As I parked my bicycle, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had stumbled into a different world.

Gathering my courage, I made my way into the school. The halls were filled with students, their conversations a low hum of privilege and exclusivity. I felt like a small fish in a vast, unfamiliar ocean.

My classroom was a cavernous space, bathed in the soft glow of fluorescent lights. The desks were arranged in neat rows, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the hallway. I found my seat at the back, hoping to blend into the background.

As I sat down, I couldn't help but notice the way the other students were staring at me. They were sizing me up, assessing my worth. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me.

A few minutes later, a woman entered the room. She was tall and elegant, with a warm smile that instantly lit up the room. "Good morning, everyone," she said. "My name is Ms. Han So Hee, and I'll be your homeroom teacher for this year."

She greeted the privileged students first, her voice filled with warmth and admiration. When she turned her attention to the scholarship students, her tone shifted slightly, becoming more formal.

"Welcome to Jooshin High," she said. "I hope you will find this to be a challenging and rewarding experience."

After introducing herself, Ms. Han outlined the rules and policies of the school. The first rule was clear: the privileged students were the main focus of the teachers. The scholarship students were secondary. The second rule was even more shocking: the educational materials would be differentiated, with a greater emphasis on the privileged students.

A murmur of discontent rippled through the scholarship students. We had all been warned about the elitism of Jooshin High, but this was beyond anything we could have imagined.

As the students were discussing the rules, a familiar figure burst into the room. It was Ryujin, one of the angels of Jooshin High. She apologized profusely to Ms. Han, who dismissed her apology with a wave of her hand.

"It's quite alright, Ryujin," she said. "Just be more careful in the future."

Ryujin thanked Ms. Han and took her seat. The other students watched in awe, their eyes filled with envy.

But the scene took a dramatic turn when a scholarship student, who had arrived late, tried to enter the classroom. The doorman stopped him, his face stern. "I'm sorry, but you're late," he said. "You're not allowed to enter the class."

The student pleaded with the doorman, but to no avail. He was expelled from the class, his face filled with shame and humiliation.

As I watched the scene unfold, I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. Jooshin High was not what I had expected. It was a hell on earth.

Small Timeskip

The classroom door swung shut behind Ms. Han, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the cacophony of the hallway. As soon as she was out of sight, the students pulled out their phones, tablets, and laptops, their screens illuminating their faces. The air was filled with the sounds of games, laughter, and idle chatter.

I couldn't help but notice Ryujin, her presence radiating through the room. She was surrounded by her friends, a group of privileged students who seemed to orbit around her. There was something about her that drew me in, a magnetic force that pulled me towards her.

As I watched her, she glanced in my direction. A flicker of recognition crossed her face, and then she smiled. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly turned away, pretending to be engrossed in my book.

But Ryujin wasn't deterred. She stood up and walked towards me, her steps confident and purposeful. I felt a surge of excitement and dread.

"Hi there," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "I've never seen your face before. What's your name, little one?"

I was taken aback by her familiarity. She was one of the most popular girls in school, and yet she was talking to me as if we were old friends.

"My name is Y/n," I replied, my voice barely audible.

Ryujin smiled. "Nice to meet you, Y/n. You're new here, aren't you?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.

"Well, welcome to Jooshin High," Ryujin said. "I hope you'll enjoy your time here."

I thanked her, my heart racing. I couldn't believe that Ryujin was actually talking to me.

"Would you like to join us?" she asked, gesturing towards her friends.

I hesitated, unsure of what to do. But something inside me told me to say yes.

"Sure," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

Ryujin took my hand and led me to her group of friends. They were all dressed in designer clothes, their laughter and chatter a constant buzz of energy. I felt out of place, but Ryujin seemed to sense my discomfort.

"Don't worry, you'll fit right in," she said, squeezing my hand.

As we sat down, Ryujin's friends introduced themselves. There was Minjeong, the ice queen of the group; Jimin, the bubbly social butterfly; Chaewon, the quiet observer; and Yeji, the rebellious free spirit.

They all seemed to be very friendly, and they made an effort to include me in their conversations. I was surprised by their warmth and openness.

After a while, Ryujin pulled out a vape. The other girls followed suit, inhaling deeply. I watched them with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"Have you ever tried this?" Minjeong asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I shook my head. "No, I can't smoke."

The girls laughed. "Oh, come on," Jimin said. "It's not that bad."

I resisted the urge to try it. I didn't want to disappoint Ryujin or her friends, but I also didn't want to do anything that could harm me.

As we sat there, chatting and laughing, I couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. For the first time since I arrived at Jooshin High, I felt like I was part of something.

Just as we were starting to get comfortable, the bell rang. Ryujin took my hand and led me back to our classroom.

"We should hang out sometime," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I nodded, my heart pounding with anticipation.

As we entered the classroom, I couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. Perhaps Jooshin High wasn't as bad as I had thought. Maybe there was a chance for me to find my place here after all.

Meanwhile In So-hyun's POV

The hum of the air conditioner filled the classroom, a constant drone that barely registered in my mind. My gaze drifted out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. As the queen bee of Jooshin High, I was accustomed to feeling on top of the world, but today was different.

A sudden vibration in my pocket snapped me out of my reverie. I pulled out my phone, my heart pounding. An anonymous number had sent me a photo. My breath caught in my throat as I recognized the younger version of myself, vaping and laughing with a boy who looked completely out of place. He was dressed in plain clothes, his books piled high, a stark contrast to the designer labels I was accustomed to.

Panic surged through me. I typed furiously, demanding to know who the sender was and what they wanted. But the anonymous person remained silent, sending only a chilling message: "Soon... You'll understand."

Fear gripped me as I realized the implications of the photo. It was a secret I had buried deep, a part of my past I had hoped to forget. The thought of it being exposed to my classmates and friends filled me with dread.

I couldn't believe it. I, So-hyun, the queen bee of Jooshin High, was being threatened. I was the one who controlled the social hierarchy, the one who everyone looked up to. How could anyone dare to challenge me?

Overwhelmed by a mix of fear and anger, I burst into tears. I ran out of the classroom, leaving my friends Yujin and Gaeul confused and concerned. As Gaeul followed me into the bathroom, I collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

"So-hyun, what's wrong?" Gaeul asked, her voice filled with worry.

I couldn't find the words to explain. The secret I had been hiding for so long was now threatening to destroy everything I had built. I was terrified of what would happen if anyone found out about my past.

"I don't know," I managed to choke out. "I just... I'm scared."

Gaeul wrapped her arms around me, offering comfort. "We'll figure this out together," she said. "Just tell me what's going on."

I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to share my secret. But I knew that I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. So I told her everything, from the vaping to the boy I had met.

Gaeul listened intently, her expression filled with shock and concern. "I can't believe you never told me," she said. "You're not alone, So-hyun. We're all here for you."

Her words offered me some comfort, but the fear still lingered. I knew that the person who had sent me the photo was watching, waiting for the right moment to strike.

In the days that followed, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting to be caught. The stress was taking a toll on me, and I began to feel physically ill.

One night, as I was trying to sleep, my phone buzzed again. I opened it with trepidation, expecting another message from the anonymous sender. But to my surprise, it was a text from an unknown number.

"Meet me at the old amusement park tomorrow night at midnight," the message read. "If you don't come, I'll release your secret to everyone."

Panic surged through me. I knew that I couldn't ignore the threat. I had to go.

The next night, I found myself standing at the entrance of the abandoned amusement park. The place was eerily quiet, the only sound the wind rustling through the trees. I hesitated for a moment, but then I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

As I wandered through the park, I felt a sense of dread creeping over me. The place was dark and foreboding, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me. I turned around, my heart pounding. There, standing in the shadows, was a figure cloaked in darkness.

"So-hyun," the figure said, their voice cold and menacing. "It's time for you to pay the price."

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. The figure stepped closer, their eyes glinting in the darkness.

"You think you're so perfect, don't you?" they said. "But you're just like everyone else. A hypocrite who pretends to be something she's not."

Before I could react, the figure grabbed me and pulled me into the shadows. I struggled to break free, but their grip was too strong.

As the figure dragged me deeper into the park, I realized that my secret was about to be exposed. My carefully constructed image was about to be shattered, and I would be left alone and humiliated.

I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the worst. But then, something unexpected happened. A bright light flashed in the distance, followed by the sound of sirens.

The figure froze, their grip on me loosening. I took advantage of the distraction and broke free. I ran towards the light, my heart pounding in my chest.

As I reached the edge of the park, I saw a police car pulling up. I stumbled towards the officers, my legs shaking.

"Help me," I cried, tears streaming down my face.

The officers rushed over to me, their faces filled with concern. They listened to my story, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"We'll find out who did this," one of the officers said. "Don't worry, we'll protect you."

As the officers escorted me to their car, I looked back at the abandoned amusement park. I knew that my ordeal was far from over, but for the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope.

To Be Continued

[yulen-the-ghost]

(Unedited) Land of Tender + Post Marriage Hualian interaction

(There's no title either lol)

Fragment:

"M-my Lord!! I have been loyal to you, the rest of my girls just didn't get it!!" She weeps. "My Lord, it's true that I tried to poison you the first time we met, and... Several other times, but I've changed!! You, you, YOU GAVE ME A HEART!!" "Didn't you say I 'broke your heart' just moments ago?" Hua Cheng points out bemused. "WELL IT DOESN'T MATTER, I-- I LOVE YOU!!" Xie Lian turns around with a dangerous expression. His face is full of black lines as he finally steps forward in front of Hua Cheng and slashes with his bare hand. Not an ounce of spiritual power was needed to turn that demon into a literal pulp. Xie Lian shakes his hand to get rid of the substance—that can't be called blood—and turns around to face his husband. "Now I see why this business was so urgent. I'm glad to have come personally." He says plainly, but the detachment makes it sound dangerous.

"Your Highness, you're here." Hua Cheng turns around, making the silver jewelry ring lightly.

"Of course, I--"

"Wait. Cover your mouth and nose. You can use Ruoye." The ghost interrupts.

"Oh, ok but why?-" Xie Lian tries to ask, when Hua Cheng turns suddenly.

His eye shines even in the middle of the dark of the cavern, and his next steps are cautious.

His gaze narrows, and when Xie Lian turns to look in his direction, a field of red flowers is seen ahead.

"Oh, what is-?"

An arm stops him from moving forward.

"Be careful, Your Highness. These aren't regular flowers." Hua Cheng warns through the communication array.

What could possibly be so serious as to warn me through that method? And he's even calling me by my title. Xie Lian thinks.

But his concern is quickly answered when the ground shifts, like something was moving underneath.

Roots rise from the ground, and one of the flowers blooms into a beautiful tall woman.

Her skin is pale and tender, long dark hair cascades like a straight silk all the way to her calves, and she is dressed with nothing but a soft pink lipstick to enhance her face.

Long dark nails adorn the hands that are placed in her hips.

She frowns slightly, her notably sweet voice tampered with irritation. Or fear.

"L-lord Chengzhu!! What are you doing here? We already paid our debt!!" She rages, using an imposing tone.

"Of course, I know. I'm not here for that. But I'm expecting you didn't forget about our agreement?" Hua Cheng replied icily.

Xie Lian had barely ever seen the ghost king speak like that. What kind of deal could they have?

He blushed slightly and shook his head. If he doesn't visit brothels, why would he make THAT kind of deal? He scolded himself. ...Unless that's the reason why he doesn't visit such places.

"Of course I haven't forgotten. We pay our rent, unlike anyone else in ghost City, maintain order, and are forced to stay here to wait until you feed us." Her naturally alluring voice contrasted with the current stern tone, gives her an air of elegance.

FEED THEM!!?? Xie Lian automatically recited sutras internally to erase any impure thoughts about the exchange. Imagining Hua Cheng like that... Xie Lian gripped the hem of his robes.

"And what happened this time?" Hua Cheng arched an eyebrow.

"What do you mean? We have been following your rules, however unjust they are." The woman proceeds to cross her arms.

"Admirable," Hua Cheng sneers. "You can keep that attitude even after one of them snuck to bite my residents."

"SHE'S A YOUNG ONE!!" The flower excuses. "And that wouldn't have happened if you fed us more generously."

"Maybe I'd feed you better if you paid in time."

The woman scoffs. "Are you gonna kick us out?"

"You know the rules. I'm the only one who is willing to shelter you, and the only one that can feed you without either falling for your tricks or running out of power."

The woman winces. Just then, another one of the flowers blooms into a young beauty, and swings her claws towards the prince.

Xie Lian has a perfect instinct for danger, and dodges effortlessly. When the young one swings back for a second strike, the ghost king grabs her by the arm and lifts her up in distaste.

He turns to the first woman and arches an eyebrow.

Her face is finally showing her distress and she kneels to the ground.

"PLEASE LEAVE HER ALONE!! THIS ONE HAS FAILED TO EDUCATE HER PROPERLY AND IS WILLING TO TAKE HER PUNISHMENT INSTEAD!!!" She begs.

"This is the third time, Lady. A couple innocent passerby, the brothel in my city, and attacking my honoured guest." He swings the lady to the rest of the flowers, releasing her without the risk of getting attacked.

She lands lightly on her feet and rushes to hide behind the tall woman.

"You know the Land of Tender attacks in groups. I don't think I can believe your honesty so much after this." Hua Cheng warns, stroking for once, the hilt of E'ming.

"W-well, if I need to fight you to protect my girls, I will!!" The woman snarls.

"I knew it was a terrible idea to believe you had a heart."

"Maybe I'd still have one if you didn't break it." The flower rages.

She jumps forward, summoning a vine to whip at the ghost.

"Nonsense. All you've ever felt has been thirst of lust." Eming flies forward and it's countered by a third flower woman, who uses a thorn-dagger to fight back.

He lets Eming have fun on his own as he snaps his fingers to summon his silver butterflies. In the light of the room, it's revealed the red vastness of the place, who is just a field of flowers. Many more bloom into raging and laughing women.

Some of them lung towards Xie Lian, praising his looks and themselves, explaining that they would be the perfect match.

He fights back perfectly fine, but the sweet words seem to strike a nerve on Hua Cheng.

He turns around just in time to hear Xie Lian saying "Ruoye!!"

Your Highness, remember it's already covering your mouth!! The ghost king warns.

Right. Thank you, San Lang. Xie Lian answers, and a wall of butterflies covers just in time before one of them scrapes the prince.

"You worry too much. Look at how resilient your 'honoured guest' is. He didn't need you to count this as a 'third incident.'" The lead woman rolls her eyes as the vine strikes a group of butterflies shielding Hua Cheng.

"That's not the point. I will not tolerate anyone who disrespects my husband."

The sharp gaze of Hua Cheng strikes her as much as his words, and her already pale face turns into a paper sheet white.

With that reaction, the rest of the flowers seem to lose focus, and the butterflies easily reduce them to sap.

"The only reason you managed to survive this long," Hua Cheng starts, stretching his arm to receive E'ming back, "is because you took my energy. The only reason you're alive is because I allow it."

The flower falls to her knees once more, looking pitiful.

"M-my Lord!! I have been loyal to you, the rest of my girls just didn't get it!!" She weeps. "My Lord, it's true that I tried to poison you the first time we met, and... Several other times, but I've changed!! You, you, YOU GAVE ME A HEART!!"

"Didn't you say I 'broke your heart' just moments ago?" Hua Cheng points out bemused.

"WELL IT DOESN'T MATTER, I-- I LOVE YOU!!"

Xie Lian turns around with a dangerous expression. His face is full of black lines as he finally steps forward in front of Hua Cheng and slashes with his bare hand. Not an ounce of spiritual power was needed to turn that demon into a literal pulp.

Xie Lian shakes his hand to get rid of the substance—that can't be called blood—and turns around to face his husband.

"Now I see why this business was so urgent. I'm glad to have come personally." He says plainly, but the detachment makes it sound dangerous.

"Gege, I--" Hua Cheng's voice trembles.

"Are you immune to their scent?" Xie Lian asks, pointing out that Hua Cheng has nothing to cover himself with.

"No. I just don't breathe."

It makes sense. Xie Lian nods.

"I see." Xie Lian rubs his chin and proceeds to place his hands where his lips are covered by the silk. "How did you transfer spiritual power with them?"

The prince asks honestly, but Hua Cheng can't help but panic. "Not like that!! Gege, there is an array inside this cave. I don't even need to enter to give them the energy they need to survive!!"

Xie Lian hums, and Hua Cheng proceeds to explain further. "They made it sound dirty, but actually, the deal was for them to 'pay for the damage done to their victims and don't attack anyone else.' They had to stay here for me to protect and feed them, and the money wasn't for me. Let's just say... Some of the residents of my city were not originally ghosts."

Xie Lian remains silent for some time, looking up at his husband with what could only be described as an incredulous look.

Hua Cheng proceeded to panic further. All because of some stupid attempt at being merciful to some heartless demons.

Xie Lian turns around and crosses his arms.

Out of respect, the butterflies are already gone, so he can no longer see his face.

The only reason his pulse isn't rushing at top speed is because he deliberately stopped his heart and kept it that way to avoid the poison from flowing in his veins.

Xie Lian snorts. His shoulders are shaking, and then he bursts out laughing.

"!!??"

"HAHAHAHAHA-- SAN LANG, I MEANT IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHA" Xie Lian turns back around to his husband and looks at him in the eye. "I'M GLAD I CAME PERSONALLY!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

"Gege?"

"Hahahaha-- sorry, did I surprise San Lang?" He smiles through the bandages, wiping away a tear in his eye.

Hua Cheng doesn't dare to even move, acting like a real corpse.

"Sorry, I would never doubt you. I did get mad at the flower tho..." He looks at the mess on the floor, guiltily remembering how good he is at stepping on flowers.

"I see. Gege saw an opportunity and took it." Hua Cheng smiles.

Xie Lian's face brights once more, glad about the reception of his husband.

"You deserved it for the marriage joke!!" The god pouts.

"I already said sorry for that!!" Hua Cheng whines.

Xie Lian lets a couple of dice fall and roll on the ground, hugging his beloved. As soon as they're transported into their bedroom, Xie Lian tears Ruoye from his face, and the silk rushes out of the room, sliding beneath the door instead of opening it.

Xie Lian tips on his toes to kiss Hua Cheng. He's greeted back without complaint, and the kiss depends with a sweet scent.

When the god retreats, he asks "San Lang, are you ok?"

"Hm?" Hua Cheng asks innocently. "What do you mean?"

"You're all red."

"Well, I am Crimson Rain Sought Flower."

"No~ this means something else." Xie Lian taps the border of the bed to invite Hua Cheng to sit next to him.

"I am in love with Gege," he says, obediently following his beloved.

Xie Lian blushes and denies with his head. "Yes, but that's not what I mean."

The prince's eyes are dazed and he tugs at the left arm of the calamity, revealing a gash on the skin.

"You're poisoned."

Both of his eyebrows rise. "I already told Gege not to worry. I can prepare an antidote to expel the poison without getting affected."

"Hm, that would work if your blood wasn't rushing again," Xie Lian pointed out, looking at the wound.

The blush on the ghost king's cheeks means that blood is rushing underneath. The poison is moving inside, and soon it'll become a problem.

Xie Lian pulls the arm close to his face, and starts to suck the poison.

The ghost's eye widens at the familiar scene, but he feels as if his soul just left his body when the prince swallows.

"GEGE, YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!!" Hua Cheng cries.

A soft light shines next to him and then, he's pinned to the bed with the sight of His Highness donned in his fine royal attire from XianLe. A particular set that he will never forget.

Xie Lian's eyes are already lewd, and he whispers "My good soldier, I am poisoned with the Land of Tender. Will you help me out?"

Immediately, the ghost king grabs him and turns around positions. Now his own self is wearing the soldier garment from the same kingdom, and E'ming is sent flying out of the room.

The prince rips his robes in the same way he did hundreds of years ago, and lifts his arm to caress Hua Cheng's cheek.

"My beautiful, brave San Lang." Xie Lian whispers.

"Gege."

The hand proceeds to pull the bandages loose, revealing a red eye.

The soldier obeys a non verbal sign to lower his head, and the prince kisses his eyelid.

"My beautiful, brave Hong'er." Xie Lian smiles.

"Your Highness."

They look at each other with blushed faces before kissing again.

Notes:

As I previously said, this is unedited, so I'm going to clarify some things here:

- The Land of Tender (at least here) is all a single entity. Hua Cheng decided to give it an opportunity to prove being innocent, but in the end, it wasn't.

- Xie Lian heard there was an affair Hua Cheng had to handle personally, and decided to tag along as soon as he was available.

- Hua Cheng started calling Xie Lian "Your Highness" kinda out of reflex because he remembers the Land of Tender and Xie Lian being involved as a prince 😭

- The demon had permission to get away, but it would no longer receive 'food' nor shelter from Hua Cheng. Since the resented souls of her victims still lingered on, it didn't want to get out.

I'd like to post this later on AO3, and I might make an extra chapter of the aftermath if this gets enough attention. 😏

- She wasn't in love with Hua Cheng. It was just a trick.

[glimmervoi]

A SEALED FATE: EMERALDS AND BLOOD - VI The Beginning of the Winter Ball

masterlist

e&b masterlist

notes: phew, that took forever for me to write ;-; i was really struggling with this one and Idk why because i was so excited to write it when i left off at the last chapter. oh well, it's up now - i hope you all enjoy it!! cant wait to get the next chapter up :D

The winter ball shimmered with life and elegance, a spectacle that drew envy from all corners of the kingdom. Dressed in gowns spun from the most expensive of threads and suits tailored with utmost precision, guests from far and wide glided across the floor in a symphony of laughter and music, each step a testament to the grandeur of the event.

The ballroom buzzed with energy as guests mingled and danced. The musicians in the corner belted out lively tunes, adding to the festive atmosphere. Glasses of bubbly wine clinked together as people laughed and chatted, the room alive with excitement and joy.

The ball was just getting started, and you couldn't help but be amazed. Coming from a humble village, the grandeur of the event was like something out of a dream. It was a stark reminder of how far you'd come, even if your presence there was not something you had initially expected nor wanted.

You weren’t supposed to be serving at the ball that night. Rae had assured you that the service maids would take care of it, giving you a rare night off. It was a welcomed relief, as you had plans to sneak off to the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man you had encountered days before.

You were almost certain he was a stableboy by his attire, but when you mentioned the handsome man to Rae, she drew a blank. Still, you felt compelled to check the stables, just in case.

He had lingered in your thoughts since your first encounter, leaving you yearning for that electrifying, joyful sensation he brought. Yet, your plans to visit the stables were ruined upon entering the maids' chambers to change. Sanria's unexpected presence stopped you in your tracks.

An hour later, you found yourself in the small kitchen adjacent to the ballroom, gazing through the open door at the guests reveling in laughter and joy.

Sanria had already departed, leaving behind a chilling warning of a painful beating with the thin wooden rod she kept tucked in her apron. The threat hung heavily in the air, a reminder of the consequences awaiting any mistake or offense against Iseul, the stern head of the service maids.

Iseul, while not as imposing as Sanria, still commanded respect. The young woman's raven hair framed a stern expression, her lips set in a deep frown, and her slender frame seemed more stiff than a stone pillar. Like Sanria, she too carried a wooden rod tucked into her black apron, a silent symbol of her authority and a promise to punish any who angered her.

Isabella, a bubbly blonde maid, stood in stark contrast to Iseul's severity. Despite the initial shock of being summoned to serve at the ball, she had lent a hand in getting you ready. With her assistance, you managed to squeeze into the all-black service dress and frilly apron, a uniform reserved for special occasions.

In Sanria's presence, Isabella remained silent, but her eyes spoke volumes. They conveyed an understanding of your confusion, discomfort, and alarm at the daunting task of serving important guests in such a grand event, especially considering your recent arrival at the castle. You couldn't help but wonder who had requested such an inexperienced servant for such a significant occasion.

You had to shake off the unsettling feeling and muster your courage. Allowing your nerves to affect you would only invite trouble, but if you pretended to be confident and composed, you might just get through unscathed.

You stood in silence, observing as Isabella and Iseul quickly arranged two sleek black trays laden with tall, slender glasses brimming with sparkling wine. You willed the slight tremor in your fingers to cease, your focus fixed on the task at hand. Iseul didn't spare you a glance once she finished, merely snapping her fingers before pivoting to prepare another tray.

Isabella's kind gaze met yours as you approached. "Have you ever carried a tray filled with glasses like this before?" she inquired, her tone gentle. Her presence brought a sense of comfort, causing your tense shoulders to ease slightly. You shook your head in response.

"It's easy, really," she reassured, smoothly sliding the tray from the table onto her waiting hand. The liquid in the glasses barely rippled, and she held the tray with ease, despite there being at least ten glasses resting on its surface. "Just carefully slide it onto your palm. But don't go too fast or too slow. It can practically sense your fear when you do it that way."

Your brows furrowed as you gently tugged on the edge of the tray. Not too fast, not too slow—just right. You hoped you'd get it just right on the first try, before Iseul turned and witnessed you dropping an entire tray of wine on the ground.

You tugged the tray onto your hand, mimicking Isabella's technique, wincing as the wine threatened to spill over the edge of the glass. The blonde nodded her approval and offered a small smile. "Perfect," she said, brushing a stray droplet off the surface of your tray.

"Now, when you go up to serve someone, you must first bow your head like this," Isabella demonstrated by dipping her chin lightly, her eyes cast downward. A respectful and simple action. "Then, ask them if they would like a glass. If they ask what the wine is, it is a Sparkling Snowdrop from Shivermaw. It’s their specialty."

You faintly remembered the name, Shivermaw. One of the girls a few beds down from yours was born there, but had left due to the crumbling economy of the winter city. Supposedly, the Duke and Duchess were doing just fine, and so were the wealthier inhabitants of the city. But the further out from the city's main area you got, the poorer the families were. And that wasn't even considering the rural villages, comparable to your own.

You shook off the thoughts of Shivermaw and nodded at Isabella. "Alright, ready?" she asked quietly, approaching the doorway of the kitchen. You swallowed, tempted to admit you weren't ready and that you just wanted to go to bed. But you followed her, once again gazing into the beautiful ballroom.

"Ready," you said quietly. Then, you both entered. The music swelled, and so did the voices of the guests. The scents of their perfumes enveloped you, making it feel like the air in your lungs had vanished.

So many people, you thought to yourself, trying to steady your breathing. It had been one thing to peer in from the outside, but standing amidst the crowd was another matter entirely. Your legs began to shake; you were terrified. The reality of it all sunk in deeper now that you were actually there. The fear of making a mistake and facing Sanria's wrath felt closer than it had before.

Isabella seemed to sense your anxiety and gently nudged your arm with hers. "Hey," she murmured softly. You looked into her bright eyes, your breath coming out shakily.

"Act like you've been doing this for years. Confidence is key - if you show it, they won't question a thing. All they really care about is having a good time, indulging in food and drink, and enjoying each other's beds," she said with a playful smirk.

Indeed, she had a point. They'd likely glance past you without a second thought; you were merely a background figure. With a resigned sigh, you summoned a faint smile. "I'll handle the right side. You take care of the left?"

Isabella nodded, her gaze filled with reassurance. Alongside you, other maids clad in attire identical to yours were already circulating on the right side as they handed out drinks. You surveyed the area, noting the guests who had yet to acquire a glass of Shivermaw’s wine.

You made the choice to approach a stunning woman with ivory skin and hair that looked to be made of the sun's golden rays. Her gown, a blush colored silk, was adorned with so many pearls that it looked as though it was twice as heavy as she was. Yet, she moved with effortless grace as though it was as light as a piece of chiffon.

You followed Isabella's instruction, gracefully bowing your head as you presented her with a glass of wine. She momentarily halted her conversation with a handsome, dark-skinned man, casting her gaze upon you. However, instead of acknowledgment, her expression shifted from flirtatious to one of disdain. Without a word she turned away, dismissing you with a subtle gesture and once more engaging in conversation.

As you willed away the prickling irritation and embarrassment from her reaction, your focus shifted to an older woman, her hair gracefully streaked with silver. She wore a gown of deep blue, its simplicity heightened by its quiet elegance. With a composed demeanor you approached her, bowing your head respectfully before extending the offer of a glass of wine from your tray once again.

"Thank you, dear," she murmured softly, graciously accepting the glass. A sense of satisfaction washed over you, prompting a gentle nod from you in response. With a silent step backward, you gave her the space to savor her wine in peace. Slowly you distributed the rest of the contents of your tray.

For the next hour, you conducted your own quiet waltz, moving in harmony with the music resonating from the heart of the room. It was a dance of five steps: a “graceful” journey to the kitchen, where you retrieved a fresh tray from Iseul, whose silence remained unbroken. Returning to the ballroom, you distributed the wine, then retreated back to the kitchen to restart your dance. Each repetition carried its own rhythm, blending seamlessly into the elegant cadence of the evening.

On your eighth trip to the kitchen, Iseul abruptly halted your motion as you reached for the replenished tray. Her hand landed firmly on the tray, blocking you. "Let Nidora handle this one," she instructed, her voice carrying a raspy edge. You complied, withdrawing your hand as the quiet redhead silently took the tray, avoiding your gaze as she did so.

"Is everything alright?" you inquired softly, clasping your hands behind your back. Despite your lack of prior experience in service, you had believed you were managing quite well.

Iseul set down the dark blue wine bottle that she had been uncorking and fixed her gaze upon you, her eyes filled with nothing but disdain. "I don't like you," she declared bluntly, causing your brows to raise in surprise.

"O-oh," you stammered, searching for a more composed response. You understood that everyone had their own thoughts and opinions, but you couldn't help but wonder why the head maid had chosen this moment to share hers with you. After all, you hadn't knowingly given her any reason to harbor such animosity.

A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed before Iseul broke it, her voice tinged with accusation.

"The only reason you're here is because a Prince specifically requested you," she asserted, folding her arms tightly across her chest. You recoiled slightly, taken aback by her words. Instantly, your thoughts turned to Namjoon. He had been the only prince to engage with you, and it was merely a single request... Had you somehow inconvenienced or offended him?

Rae hadn't shown any signs that Namjoon was concerned or dissatisfied with your performance. Surely if you had done something wrong, she would have brought it to your attention? And if you had, why would Namjoon specifically request you? It didn't make sense. Unless... unless he was planning to make an example of you in front of everyone at the ballroom?! The thought sent a shiver down your spine, unsettling and alarming.

You started to tremble, the uncertainty and anxiety swirling within you. What could you have possibly done to provoke such anger from him? Rae had ensured you that he received the correct tea, so why would he single you out? Was it possible that he wanted you specifically to serve it? But would such a minor detail warrant such public humiliation in front of the entire ballroom? The questions raced through your mind, each one amplifying your anxiety.

Iseul's snort cut through the tension, her smile twisted with malice as she observed your shocked expression. "You're just like that whore Kassie. You slept with one of them, didn't you?" she accused, leaning in with disdain. "Now my neck is on the line. If you mess up, the repercussions fall on me. If I wanted to deal with an inexperienced cleaning maid, I would have gladly taken Rae’s position myself-"

"What are you talking about?" you interjected, cutting her off mid-sentence. Panic surged through you, your hands trembling as you braced them against the counter. Leaning forward, you desperately tried to convey your innocence. "I haven't been sleeping with anyone!"

Iseul's nostrils flared, and she uncrossed her arms with a sharp motion, seizing the bottle of wine from the counter. "Your reaction tells me that you’re lying," she stated icily, her tone cutting through the air like a knife as she resumed pouring the wine into the waiting glasses. “I want you to know that if you make a single mistake, I will be the one beating you. And my rod is much more painful than Sanria’s.” 

You attempted to interject, to offer some form of defense or clarification, but she swiftly silenced you before you could utter a single word.

"I do not care about your excuses," she spat, venom dripping from her lips. "Just get back out there and do your job. And do not mess it up." Her words were a cold dismissal, leaving you with no choice but to comply, the weight of her expectations heavy upon your shoulders.

You recoiled, instinctively flinching as she forcefully thrust a tray towards you. The dark-haired maid's stern demeanor left no room for doubt - she wasn't bluffing. If you made a mistake, she would know, and the consequences would be dire. Standing there to argue or seek answers would only further infuriate her. She had already made up her mind, convinced of your involvement with a prince. It was clear that trying to reason with her would be futile. With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to brushing off her accusations and returning to your duties.

Shakily, you grasped the fresh tray and cautiously approached the doorway, peering into the bustling room. Tension gripped you once more, just like it had during your initial entry into the crowded space. If Namjoon had indeed requested your presence, you were determined to avoid the tall prince at all costs. Yet, despite scanning the room, you hadn't caught sight of him all night. Was it a stroke of luck, or perhaps part of his scheme to catch you off guard? The uncertainty gnawed at you, adding another layer of unease to an already tense evening.

You made an effort to steady yourself, taking note of the shifting atmosphere within the ballroom. The tables were now being repositioned, guests darting around with metal keys clutched tightly in their hands. The key matching game was underway, evident from the flurry of activity as people hurried to find their matches.

Your thoughts drifted to the stableboy from earlier, and a pang of longing tugged at your heart. Amidst the chaos surrounding you, you found yourself yearning for his company, wishing you were anywhere but in your current position. However, you steeled yourself and pressed onward, continuing your duties of distributing wine to the newly formed couples who stood together, their keys glimmering in the soft candlelight.

You emptied two more trays, although you remained unsettled from the encounter with Iseul. Suddenly, a familiar tingling sensation coursed through your veins, prompting you to instinctively tighten your grip on the empty tray. A small shiver danced down your spine as you glanced around, a strange feeling creeping over you.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested gently on your shoulder, and a soft voice murmured close to your ear, "I finally found you." Startled, you whipped around, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the unexpected proximity. Before you stood the stableboy who had occupied your thoughts for days, appearing even more handsome than you remembered.

A smile unconsciously spread across your face as you prepared to ask him why he was there, rather than tending to the stables. However, your question remained unspoken as a glimmer of gold caught your eye from atop his head. Your breath caught in your throat as you realized— he was wearing a crown.

He was wearing a crown.

[valyriians]

I’m not sure if this is how you put requests in, so I’m sorry if this is wrong lol. But i was wondering would u mind writing a Visenya Targaryen x fem reader? Cause I see in most fics it’s a lot of stuff on Aegon and Rhaenys and I feel like our girl Visenya needs some love. I don’t really have a story in mind I’d just love to see her protective and possessive over us while also maintaining a friendship with Aegon and Rhaenys, if makes sense. Like we all get along, but we’re her girl and she’s gonna make it known lol. I hope it makes sense and I hope ur doing well author 🫶

Beauty and the Dragon.

Visenya Targaryen x fem!reader, arryn!reader.

summary: reader is basically sharra arryn but spicier.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: reader is a mom, non canon aegon i, smut, mention of reader being a prize.

You were known as the Flower of the Mountain, Y/n Arryn. You ruled in your son's name as Queen Regent in the Vale and the Mountains

When you received the news of the dragons from the south you had a worried look on your face, the Eyrie was defensible from the ground but in the sky, it was vulnerable. 

You were scared, who would not be? A dragon could bring death and destruction to everything that the sky looms over. You ordered every one of your bannermen and advisors to raise defences and be prepared to defend the Vale. 

You were with your advisors when the whole castle was shaken by a monstrous roar that could be heard from miles away. 

‘’Where is my son?’’ you asked.

‘’WHERE IS HE?!’’ you shouted while running out of the room watching the people get up on their feet after the incident.

When you arrived at the throne room you saw your young son in the lap of a golden-silver-haired woman who was adorned in silver chain mail with a beautiful valyrian steel sword by her side.

She looked breathtaking, ethereal and elegant but also fierce and confident. You looked up at her with a glistening gleam in your eye.

The woman shifted her gaze from the young king to you and the two of you held eye contact which felt like a lifetime, her eyes were those of a beautiful purple which complimented her stern features.

‘’Who are you, release my son at once!’’ you exclaimed.

‘’Forgive me for the entrance I made but surely you must know that I needed to make an impression.’’ The woman said while looking playing with the young boy king.

‘’My name is Visenya Targaryen, eldest child of Lord Aerion Targaryen and Lady Valaena Velaryon of Dragonstone, sister to Ageon the Dragon.’’

‘’Let go of my sons’’ you said.

‘’I have no means to harm your son, come walk with me.’’ Visenya gestured for them to walk into the courtyard.

You walked with them outside where Visenya was holding the young king and babbling some stuff to him.

‘’If you don’t mean to harm us, why are you here?’’ you asked while looking closely at your son.

‘’Well, I will have to inflict some harm if you do not surrender the Vale and Mountains to me and my brother.’’ Visenya said while looking at you. 

‘’As I see it, you are only a force of, one man and with a simple nod of my head I could have my archers let a hundred arrows fly.’’ you said.

‘’Could you now?’’ Visenya said and then the ground rumbled that was followed by a roar and from the sky descended a formidable green dragon that landed by Visenyas side.

The dragon was beautiful.

Some of the archers fled while others laid down their bows and shook in terror.

‘’Mama look at the dagon’’ the young boy king said to his mother, clearly not afraid of the large beast that was beside him.

‘’DRA-gon, little one.’’ Visenya said as she put him down on the ground.

You saw your son's face lit up and crouched down to hug your son. You looked at your son, then the dragon and lastly at Visenya who stroked the dragon's snout. 

‘’I willingly surrender my son's crown, the Vale and the Mountains and all its treasures to you, on the condition that you will let my son live.’’

Visenya looked at you with a sympathetic look.

‘’Of course, your son will live, as will you.’’ Visenya said.

‘’I thank you’’ you bowed to her.

‘’I will be staying here, my brother and sister will be coming soon and we will make our journey North, perhaps you might indulge me with stories of the North, or the Vale and its so-called… treasures.’’ she winked at you, clearly into you but not making it to obvious.

‘’We shall have a feast prepared in your honour’’ you said while she mounted Vhagar with your son because she promised him a flight on Vhagar.

—

Two huge dragons arrived, one black as night and the other silver as the moon, they landed outside the Bloody Gate and arrived at the Eyrie where you were waiting with Visenya.

You saw how majestic the man and his sister, the younger one, were a great beauty. They truly were destined for something great and were going to achieve it.

‘’Brother’’ Visenya said.

‘’Dear sister.’’ he replied.

‘’Lady Arryn.’’ he shifted his gaze toward you and took your hand and kissed it. ‘’The poets did not lie, you are indeed very beautiful.’’

‘’Welcome to the Vale, my Lord, you flatter me’’ you replied, with a certain scared voice.

Rhaenys greeted you and she was very excited about the Eyrie. 

—

The feast began and it was a big one, music was played and people danced to greet their new lord. It was also ideal for the bannermen to meet their new lord.

Rhaenys was chatting with some lords and ladies about her dragon and tales of Dragonstone. 

‘’So, Lady Arryn, how long have you ruled here?’’ Aegon asks.

‘’Well for about seven years, my son ascended the throne when my husband died.’’ you reply.

‘’You have not re-married? I’m sure a score of men would love to have you beside them.’’ He chuckles but Visenya shut him down quickly.

‘’She has no need for a man, from what I have seen Lady Y/n has done an admirable job ruling the Vale.’’ You give Visenya a smile.

—

When the night came closing in, you retired to your chambers after visiting your son and you ran into Visenya, she had just returned from a flight.

Her hair when it was all worn out from the flight made her look amazing, the sweat from her ride, the way she pulled off her gloves and adjusted her clothes. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t make you feel something.

‘’I was wondering if you might educate me on the King in the North, Stark is he not?’’ she says to you while panting.

‘’It’s getting late, Lady Visenya.’’ you said but she caressed your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

Her lips tasted like lavender and cherries, she grabbed you by the neck and pulled you in closer.

You were feeling confused but were also so drawn to her, you wanted her, and you needed her badly so you also grabbed her.

You led her to your chambers where you undressed each other while kissing in between. 

She pushed you onto the bed and began leaving wet kisses on your stomach while you were naked and vulnerable beneath her. Her hands were constantly on your body.

She moved down to your core and put your legs over her shoulders, she started licking your folds while moving up her pace as you panted and moaned with the sound of pleasure.

Her hot breath on your naked body sent chills down your spine and you felt like you could see stars. 

The two of you went like this for hours and then you hear a knock on the door, terrified but curious who it might be, it could be your son or just a servant informing you about something.

You started collecting yourselves until Visenya caught your wrist.

‘’Lay here darling, I’ll handle this.’’ she said with dominance in her voice.

‘’No wait-’’ you protested.

‘’Quiet’’

Visenya walked to the door, half naked with only her long hair covering her chest with not a single care in the world. She opened the door and greeted her brother.

‘’Well well, what are you doing here?’’ she asked.

‘’I would ask you the same thing.’’ Aegon replies.

‘’Enjoying the spoils of war, I do enjoy my prize quite well and I do not plan on sharing them.’’ She said, clearly having the upper hand.

‘’I only came to bid the Lady goodnight, I shall see you on the morrow, sister.’’ He replied.

‘’I might be late, for I have much to do this night.’’ She replied.

—

The morning arrived and you woke up next to Visenya staring at you, admiring the numerous love spots she painted on your body. She caressed your hair and admired your naked figure in the messy sheets.

‘’I don’t want you to leave.’’ you say.

‘’I will be back before you know it darling.’’ she says while getting dressed.

You help her with her chainmail and fix up her hair nicely. Always giving her a few kisses in between.

—

When the three siblings were about to depart for the harsh North you were there to bid them farewell and good fortune.

You first spoke with Aegon as he walked up to you while putting on his gloves.

‘’We thank you for your hospitality Lady Arryn, it was an honour meeting one so beautiful as yourself.’’ he tells you.

‘’The honour is mine my King.’’ you bow to him and for the first time address him as King.

Rhaenys then hugged you goodbye and smiled at you and your son.

‘’My Queen.’’ you bowed to her.

‘’My Queen.’’ again to Visenya who looked at you with lustful eyes. 

‘’From this day, the Arryns will hold the position as Wardens of the East and Defenders of the Vale. Starting with the first Warden of the East who is Lady Y/n Arryn.’’ Visenya proclaimed to the audience who came to bid them farewell. She gained loud applause from the crowd.

Aegon walked over to Visenya and grabbed her arm.

‘’What do you think you’re doing?!’’ he asked his sister.

‘’Relax dear brother.’’ she said while shuffling from her brother's grip.

‘’After all, you said that it is an honour to meet one so beautiful, and I would hate to see her talents of ruling go to waste.’’ She said while holding your cheek.

‘’So beautiful indeed.’’ She whispered and then kissed you with passion in front of Aegon and Rhaenys, Aegon looked at her with jealousy while Rhaenys smiled.

‘’I shall be back.’’ she said to you.

‘’I will await for you, my Queen.’’ you said while holding her hand.

—

The dragon Vhagar flew numerous times to the Eyrie after King Aegon Targaryen the first of his name was crowned and it is said that Lady Arryn and Queen Visenya spent more nights than King Aegon did with Rhaenys.