#truly my life is suffering lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

changbunnies · 27 days

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Evermore (18+)

♡ Pairing: Beast!Changbin x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: beauty and the beast inspired fantasy au, monster/human relationship, some angst, fluff, eventual smut, mutual pining, slow burnish?

♡ Word Count: 15.1k

♡ Summary: Desperate to flee an arranged marriage, you take your chances fleeing into the woods. The home of countless myths and legends, many in your village believe the forest to be enchanted, with all manner of dangerous creatures lurking within. You never took stock in such tales, much less in that of the most feared of them all– “The Beast.” But when you are saved from a pack of wolves by The Beast himself, you quickly realize that there is more truth to the fables you grew up on than you ever believed.

♡ Warnings: mention of an arranged marriage for reader, referenced misogyny, risk of death / near death experience, mild blood and injury, bin's appearance as the beast is based on minotaurs because i think it's sexy!, his height is never stated but i pictured him as ~10 feet tall while writing so :)

♡ Smut Warnings: monster fucking but make it Soft and Sweet, size difference, size kink, bin is touch-starved and feral for reader (but feral in a way that is somehow still soft?), handjob, oral (m + f rec), cum eating

♡ Notes: happy very late birthday to my sweet binnie <3 i wanted to get this out on his birthday but my life has been a mess tbh lmao but i'm back now and here's to loving changbin with my whole heart <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

There were many things in your life you were willing to sacrifice for the sake of family.

Time, if they were in need or want of company. Money, whatever little you had, if they were in need of something they couldn't afford on their own. Your health, if they were sick and needed caring, even if giving them aid brought their illness upon you.

But the one thing you could not bring yourself to do was marry that terrible man.

They wanted you to marry a local hunter with some wealth, one who could provide for you and your family with his talents. He wasn't unpleasant to look at, and admittedly his wealth had appeal to families suffering from poverty, but you just couldn't get past his dreadful personality.

He was insufferably arrogant in his pride, and truly awful in his views towards women. He didn't want a wife– he wanted a maid; one he could lie with and have bear his children. His desire for such was clear every time you spoke with him.

You knew that he'd never see you as a partner, or an equal, or even love you. In his eyes, you were nary more than a pretty object for him to do with as he pleased. You didn't want that to be your life, refused to be a glorified servant to such a horrid person.

And so, in the dead of night on the eve of your wedding, you made your escape. Tiptoeing through your house as quietly and carefully as you could, you tucked away what little belongings you had and food your family could spare into a basket, and fled into the woods surrounding your village.

You veered off the beaten path, hoping that if you fled into the dense heart of the forest no one would risk trying to find you. Your village believed the woods to be inhabited by dangerous creatures– all manner of fae and magical beasts that would not hesitate to bring harm to lost humans.

All who left the village stuck strictly to the dirt paved roads, and even hunters didn't wander too far inside the woods. You didn't fear the creatures of fable, to be honest; you didn't even believe they existed. You were an avid reader, and enjoyed your share of fairy tales; you just found it hard to believe such creatures existed beyond the page.

It was risky and dangerous to flee into the woods at night, but not because of the stories of magic beasts and trickster fae; such things were the machinations of imaginative writers, and nothing more. Those who believed in them were simply overly superstitious, fearful of what could be instead of what is.

What you were scared of were the tangible, real threats that you knew very well existed. Wild animals, strange men, violent hunters– those were the things lurking in the woods that people should really be scared of; not silly stories of fairies who lure unsuspecting villagers deeper into the forest.

Regardless of what is real and what isn't, one thing is for certain– the forest is frightening to navigate at night. To ensure you remained undetected and hard to track, you forwent bringing a lantern with you, and having only the moonlight to guide you is both challenging and unnerving.

Even the smallest of noises puts you on edge, but you refuse to stop moving onward. You want to put as much distance between you and the village as you can before your family rises in the morning and notices you missing.

While you doubt many will be willing to follow your trail once they've put together that you've fled off the road and deep into the woods, you can't deny the possibility that someone may wish to try. Especially your arranged husband considering what a skilled hunter and tracker he is.

Still, you do need some rest– you've been walking through the densest parts of the forest for over an hour now, and you're more than a little tired; especially since you only got a few hours of sleep before setting off.

Just a short pause should be acceptable; you can rest against a tree, rummage through your basket for some of the food you tucked away to replenish your energy while giving your legs and feet the break they need.

It's nearly impossible to see inside your basket, so you simply feel for the food you want with your hand. It doesn't take you long to find the loaf of bread you packed inside, and you carefully tear off a piece to eat. You take a bite, and then another, but before you can take a third you hear a noise that makes you freeze.

The snapping of a branch, much louder than any previous forest sounds you heard, followed by a slight rustling of leaves. You look in the direction you heard the noise, met with the terrifying sight of a pair of glowing eyes looking straight at you.

Their low proximity to the ground tells you enough about the creature to make your blood run cold; and as it steps closer, and its silhouette becomes clearer, you realize what you thought was correct. It’s a wolf. And by the way it’s sizing you up, you can guess it’s hungry.

To make matters worse, it soon becomes clear it isn’t the only one as more glowing eyes emerge between the dark trees. You start running before you can even truly think, your body running purely on survival instinct, your basket dropped and forgotten behind you. The small amount of food inside is enough to draw the attention of some of them, but the rest ignore it to give chase.

You flee with all your strength, doing your best not to stumble and fall over protruding tree roots or your own feet. You keep your eyes forward as you do, worrying that looking over your shoulder to see the wolves close behind will only worsen your efforts to get away.

Your lungs ache, your feet hurt, your dress torn in multiple places from snagging on branches– but still, you can’t stop running. The wolves are faster than you, they’ll catch you eventually, you know it; but the desperation and adrenaline coursing through your veins keeps you going beyond your limits.

Your legs will give out before long, you'll falter and lose speed, it's inevitable; but you will yourself to keep going for as long as you can despite it. Realistically, your only hope for survival is the wolves losing interest before you grow too tired to continue. But is that even a possibility?

Maybe you should climb a tree? Can wolves climb? No, more importantly, can you? It’s over for you if you misstep or lose your strength during the climb up– falling would assuredly be the end of you.

Still, maybe it’s worth the risk. You can’t run forever, and it’s unlikely the wolves will give up the chase– better to try and fail than to not try at all, right? If you are to face death tonight, you wish to do so knowing that you tried everything you possibly could to escape it.

You scan your surroundings the best you can whilst running, looking for a tree with a branch low enough to the ground for you to feasibly reach and start your climb. It's a difficult task, the images before you as you run a dark blur; but eventually, you spot a branch you think will be suitable enough.

As you turn your body to reach out for it, one of the wolves lunges towards you, salivating jaws snapping at you. The wolf narrowly misses, instead biting through your dress and tearing a significant chunk of the fabric off, exposing your leg up to your thigh.

You let out an involuntary shriek at the sound of the fabric ripping in the wolf’s jaws, the knowledge that it easily could’ve been your leg chilling you to the bone. You’re terrified, but you can’t let yourself freeze up– it missed, and now is your best chance to get up the tree before it can try to bite you again, or the other wolves catch up with you.

You grab the branch, placing your foot on the trunk of the tree as you ready yourself to pull up your weight, but as you do you’re met with a sound that sinks your heart to the very pit of your stomach. The branch isn’t as sturdy as you hoped; it creaks and splinters as you pull, and it quickly becomes clear that should you attempt to pull your entire weight up with it, it will snap entirely.

So this is it, you think as you turn around to meet the gaze of the snarling wolf. You take a small step back, and then another, until your back is against the tree you hoped to climb. More wolves soon approach, and you know you’re cornered now. There’s nowhere else for you to go, nothing else you can think to try; your fate is sealed.

You try to make peace with it in these last moments you have; this isn’t how you imagined your life would someday end, but you knew the risks when it came to entering the woods. While you hoped differently, this was always a possibility. You were desperate, and you made your choice; and though the outcome is unfortunate, you don’t want to regret making the decision that brought you here.

As the wolves begin to fully encircle you, there is a loud thump in the distance that draws their attention away from you. The sound rings out again, and then again, and as it draws closer, you realize the ground is shaking, a cacophony of twigs and dried leaves snapping with each thump. Certainly you’re mistaken, but it sounds reminiscent of walking..

That’s impossible, isn’t it? The creature in question would have to be massive to cause the earth to shake around you this much, and to snap so many branches with each step. That simply can’t be reality– there’s no way something that big lives in the forest; giants and the like are nothing but fairy tales!

Still, the thumps continue to grow louder as whatever is causing the sounds draw closer, and you’re certain that if you weren’t already against a tree, you would’ve fallen over from how intensely the ground shakes. Some wolves whimper and flee with their tails between their legs, while the more ferocious of the pack stand their ground against whatever it is that approaches.

Its shadowy silhouette soon becomes visible through the trees, the forest floor shaking violently as it comes more clearly into view. You can’t tell what it is, but it's big– impossibly so. It’s too dark to make out features, and its height obscures the moonlight that was previously shining on you. The only thing you can make out through the shadow is.. Horns?

Unconsciously, you suck in a breath; it’s The Beast, you realize as it takes another hulking step towards you and the ravenous wolves. Half man, half monster, violent and aggressive, with an appetite for any foolish enough to wander into its territory. With horns and hooves, it easily towers over even the tallest of human men.

He’s the creature those living in your village fear the most, the subject of many cautionary tales told to children, the conjurer of countless hunter's nightmares. You never believed it– and it is only now that you think maybe you should’ve. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have been so reckless in your escape from home.

You wonder which fate is worse; to be eaten by wolves, or eaten by The Beast. You wish you could run while the wolves are distracted, but your legs are frozen; whether from exhaustion or terror, you aren’t sure. Regardless, you stand there trembling and helpless, watching as it easily shoves the wolves aside.

They bite and scratch at The Beast, but it makes no discernable sound of pain. Seemingly unphased, it (or he?) reaches out for you, lifting you from the ground with ease, as if you weigh little more than a feather. You sob as it does, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipate the pain to follow.

But the pain never comes. Slowly, you open one eye to peek at The Beast; it isn’t looking at you, but simply straight ahead as it resumes walking. He continues to shove off the wolves that attack, and as the animals realize it is futile to stop or slow him, they slowly but surely give up and retreat back to whence they came.

He must’ve made a turn before you opened your eyes, because the moon is no longer obscured by his size, and now illuminates the creature’s face clearly. His face is mostly that of a man’s, with the exception of his nose.

His nose is a rich brown bespeckled in pink, you can just barely tell, and its shape reminds you of the cattle that farmers own back in your village. You notice that his ears are bovine too, and fluffy in appearance. Brown in color, you think, or maybe black; it’s too dark to tell for certain.

The Beast looks down at you as if it can feel you observing him, and when he does, you can feel his breath envelop your body. Its smell is.. pleasant? Surprisingly so; like mixed berries, with a hint of tea leaves.

You expected something worse, given the tales; shouldn’t he smell like blood, or flesh? Even when his breath leaves you, you don’t detect anything remotely foul coming from him. In fact, his body smells unexpectedly clean.

“Safe now,” The Beast speaks, and you blink in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to be capable of speech, though you suppose it makes sense if he’s half man. It sounds like he’s trying to whisper, but his voice still comes out quite loud regardless; consequence of his size, you imagine.

But wait– does he mean you? You’re safe now? It occurs to you then that he’s holding you gently in his large arms. He isn’t squeezing you, constricting your movement, or trying to hurt you in any way; he’s simply carrying you. But to where? Though you’re apparently safe, there’s still a part of you that fears you won’t be for long.

It’s likely that as a half man he has some measure of human intelligence, and it’s very possible this apparent kindness is part of a ploy to make eating you easier. Get you to his den, build trust with you so you don’t run, all so he can relish in devouring you later.

Regardless, you’re too exhausted to do anything right now. Fatigue has settled in you now that the adrenaline has run its course through your body. You wouldn’t be able to run in this state, nor be able to fight him off– not that you think you could anyways, but especially not like this.

Your body falls limp, your eyes heavy, weary. As you close them, all you can do is hope that The Beast doesn’t toy with you in the end. If you wake before he decides to eat you, your wish is that he makes your death swift and painless. That’s all you can ask for as you lose consciousness.

When you blink awake, the first thing you register is that you’re in a bed– a large one at that. It’s comfortable, plush, and warm, if not a tad dusty. The blanket that covers you too is warm, and you realize as you continue to blink away the grogginess that you’re staring up at a darkly colored canopy– a deep purple.

Turning your head to the left, you see stained glass windows with a design of red roses filtering in small amounts of sunlight through worn, tattered drapes. On the right side lies the door to the room you’re in, wooden and carved with a motif of roses identical in design to the one on the windows.

How did you get here? You stare back up at the canopy, trying to recall what happened last night. You were walking for what felt like ages, you got tired and stopped to eat.. Wolves found you, you were running, and then.. The Beast!

You sit up quickly as the memory hits you, and take a panicked look around the room. He isn’t here, you realize after a moment, and your brows furrow in confusion. Did someone else stumble upon you and save you from The Beast? That must be it– there’s no way the dreaded beast of the forest brought you here.

The entire room is covered in a thin layer of dust, though it’s clear that someone made an effort to clean it recently. For your sake, you wonder? Removing the blanket and looking down, you can see you’re still in your torn clothes from the night before. You rise from the bed carefully, your legs still aching from the events prior to waking up here, and take another, more in depth look around the room you’re in.

It’s a rather empty room, with just a few pieces of furniture strewn about, and a fireplace sitting in the center of the wall opposite the bed you were sleeping in. In one of the corners of the room sits a large wardrobe, and next to it a chair with a dress laid atop it that you assume has been placed there for you to change into.

You walk over to the chair and take the dress into your hands, and it does seem like it’ll fit well enough when you hold it up to your body. It feels to be made of silk, and while not necessarily lavish, it is much fancier than any of the dresses you could get back home.

You consider for a moment if it’s really okay to change into, but ultimately conclude that it was laid out with a purpose, and you should accept the kindness. Besides, you don’t think remaining in your now tattered dress would do you any good.

You change quickly despite the ache remaining in your limbs, and unsure of what exactly to do with your old clothes, you opt for placing them on the same chair you grabbed the new dress from. Afterwards, you step to the rose-carved door, and slowly pull it open to peek out.

You’re not sure if leaving the room is a good idea, but there’s no one in the hall to instruct you otherwise, and you’re admittedly starving. You hope you can find a kitchen, or the person who kindly saved you so you can thank them and ask them for a meal.

The door opens to a long hallway, lined with lattice windows and rusty knight statues. Wall sconces take up the spaces between the windows, though many are missing the candles meant to reside in them.

Artwork lines the opposite wall, decorating the spaces between what you assume to be other bedroom doors. Some are askew and others perfectly straight, but all are old and worn. Landscapes, still life, portraits– regardless of type, the paint on each and every one has dulled and chipped, with a layer of dust atop them.

Continuing down the hall past the several closed doors, you come to a set of stairs leading down. Following it down leads to another long hall, though this one is quite different. Multiple chandeliers hang from the ceiling, evenly spaced apart in a line. There are vases and statues of various types; human, gargoyle, angel– some few perfectly intact, but many broken in some way, often missing entire limbs.

There are no windows, and the walls are not painted like in the previous hall, but appear to be carved of stone, with each vase and statue nestled between expertly carved columns. There are only two doors in this hall– one in the center of each wall. Both doors are locked when you try them, and so you move on down the hall, eventually finding yet another set of stairs leading down.

They bring you to what appears to be a grand entryway. Across from you is an identical set of stairs leading to what is likely a similarly structured wing of the castle you appear to be in. To the left, between both sets of stairs, is a large door that nearly touches the ceiling, and to the right a large open hall with what you think are the doors leading outside at the very end of it.

Simply leaving would be tempting if you weren’t in dire need of a meal, or entirely unsure of where exactly you are. You can tell the castle you’re in is quite old given the state of things, but you can’t think of any such old, worn down castles you’ve heard tale of. All the castles you know of are well occupied by royalty; none, as far as you’re aware, have been left to fall to dust and ruin like this.

It’s terribly confusing, and if you don’t find a kitchen soon, you at least hope you’ll find someone kind and willing to provide you answers. Forgoing the large door that you’re pretty sure leads to a ballroom, as well as the opposite staircase you’re confident will lead to a hall identical to the one you were just in, you step right, to the entry hall.

There are a few doors on each side, and to your relief, one of them is labeled “Dining Hall.” A dining hall has to lead to a kitchen! Eagerly, you pull open the door, and as you do, you gasp when you realize The Beast himself is standing next to the dining table.

He’s looking straight at you, ears flickering in response to the sound of your gasp. You can’t help but freeze, having convinced yourself that it was impossible for him to be here, for him to have been the one to bring you here. You’re too stunned to move– everything in you was expended when fleeing the wolves, and now all you can do is stand before him.

You can see him much better now than you could last night, his every feature clearly defined by the sunlight filtering in through the dining hall’s large windows. His hair is curlier than you realized, and deeply brown, as are his bovine ears. His cheeks are round, his lips pouty and entirely human in shape.

You can also now see clearly just how broad he is– and strong. His torso, while decidedly man, is still much larger than a regular man’s could ever be. His pecs and arms are muscular and well defined, while his stomach appears to be soft, and maybe a little squishy, with a dark patch of fur trailing down beneath his belly button.

He is in no way similar to a man beneath that point. The Beast has the legs reminiscent of a bull, every inch covered in thick, dark fur down to his hooves. His legs are much thicker than any you’ve ever seen, human or otherwise; you can only conclude this is because he is as strong in his legs as he is in his arms.

Lastly, is a tail swishing leisurely from side to side behind him. You can just barely see it when he’s facing you, but the glimpses you get of it further reminds you of cattle. Long and thin, with a large amount of fur at the tip of it. Part of you wonders if his fur is as soft as it looks– you didn’t feel it last night to know.

Parts of his arms are messily bandaged, bits of red tainting the otherwise white fabric– blood, you conclude, from when the wolves attacked him. He’s wearing a cape, the same shade of deep purple as the canopy that hung over the bed you woke up in, clasped around his collar bone with a golden buckle. The buckle, similar to the doors and some of the stained glass windows, is beholden with the image of a rose.

It feels wrong to think so, but he’s attractive– were he a purely human man, you’re certain many village girls would swoon for him.

“You’re awake,” he smiles for a moment, clearly human teeth showing for a split second before he stops and timidly breaks direct eye contact. “I wanted to help with torn dress but couldn’t. Hands too big,” he continues, showing his hands to you to further prove his point– not that you need him to.

“I picked a new one for you instead, glad you found it. Glad you’re wearing it,” he says, and you’re still too surprised to even speak in turn. “Looks.. Nice?” he says with an unsure tilt of the head. It seems as if he wants to compliment you, but is unsure in his word choice. He looks contemplative for a moment, as if mulling over if there’s a better word he could’ve used.

You get the impression he isn’t used to interacting with humans. You yourself aren’t used to interacting with beasts.

“I wanted to bring you food. You must be hungry! But I don’t know everything humans like to eat..” he muses as he turns his attention back to the dining table, where you now realize an abundance of food is laid out. Nice food.

Fruit platters, veggie trays, fine meats.. He has it all. If you weren’t already in awe of The Beast, this alone would floor you, because all this food would cost a fortune in your village unless you grew it and hunted for it yourself.

“This is for me..?” you finally find your voice and manage to ask. He nods and waves his hand, beckoning you to approach the table. Cautiously, you do, still in awe of it all.

Tentatively, you stand next to him before the dining room table, taking a nervous glance up towards him. You knew very well he was big and tall, but your difference in height is positively dizzying up close.

Your own stature barely even exceeds past his waist; if you were to look at him straight on, your eyes would be level with his belly button. His hands are bigger than your head, his legs thicker than your entire body. It’s as amazing as it is frightening– how can a creature this big even exist? You swallow, trying not to think about his size as you turn your attention back to the food.

“How did you get all this?” you manage to ask him; you can’t imagine someone as huge as him going out to collect fruits and vegetables– you imagine he’s much too big to be able to do so without struggling.

“I trade with friends of the forest. Little winged ones love shiny, sparkly things. They give me food in exchange,” he answers as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Well, for him, it is normal. But you can’t imagine this big, burly man-beast trading with fairies. You’re hardly even ready to accept he’s real, much less that fairies are!

It’s all too much to wrap your head around. Maybe you should just eat– maybe everything will start to make more sense once your stomach is full. You hope.

You find a bare plate on the table, and pick it up to start loading food onto. The Beast watches you, seemingly happy that you’re choosing to eat the food he has out on the table. Once satisfied, you take a seat, giving him one last cursory glance before focusing on the meal in front of you.

“Aren’t you going to eat too? This is a lot of food,” you inquire as you start to nibble on the fruit you picked out. “Wanted to make sure you got enough,” he replies, "You had a bad night, used a lot of energy. Need to have enough food to recover."

You can’t believe how seemingly nice, considerate, and intelligent The Beast is. Not only is he real, but he seems to be genuinely kind and caring. The stories paint him as violent, ferocious, ravenously blood-thirsty.. But the creature in front of you seems so far removed from those things.

“What’s your name?” you ask him, and he seems surprised for a moment. He must not have been expecting you to ask. “Little winged ones call me Changbin,” he answers. You repeat it back to him, and he smiles just a little as he nods his head. “Your name?” he asks after, and he repeats it to himself after you offer it, just the same as you did with his.

“Do you live here?” is your next question, and he nods once more. “Alone?” you follow up, and again he nods. It’s clear that Changbin isn’t the castle's original inhabitant, and you wonder how long it lay abandoned before he claimed it as his home.

Of course, he could’ve killed the owners to take it, but the more you speak with him, you simply can’t imagine him being so cold blooded. He seems too… sweet.

A more pressing question– where are you exactly? You’re certain you’re still within the bounds of the forest, as you saw nothing but trees every time you looked out a window. But if that’s the case, how has an entire castle gone unnoticed? Castles aren’t exactly small– surely you and the other villagers would’ve seen it poking through the top of the trees.

Was it the magic that people believed the forest to hold that left it obscured? Or was it so deep in the forest, with the trees that surround it so tall and dense that even spying it from a distance was impossible? No matter the truth, the simple fact remains that there is much more to the forest than you ever thought, and it’s a lot to digest all at once.

“Why did you save me?” you decide to ask him instead of trying to unravel the mysteries and secrets of the forest. “You needed help,” he answers easily, “humans fear me, but I always try to help.”

It’s easy to imagine his words true. A human like you, perhaps a hunter accidentally straying too far into the forest. They find themselves lost, hurt, or in trouble, and Changbin finds them.

He tries to help, but in their terror, they flee further into danger, get themselves more lost, strain an already injured leg.. And the ones who make it back tell a terrifying tale of The Beast in the forest who wished to devour them when all he actually wanted to do was help them. It’s a bit sad to consider in all honesty.

“When you're feeling better, do you want to go back home?” he asks once you’ve finished your meal, and it takes you by surprise. “I’d help you. Take you as far as I could. Help you find path."

He’d really help you get home..? Just like that? You begin to feel bad that even after he rescued you, gave you a warm place to sleep, a new change of clothes and a meal, there was still a part deep inside you that feared what his intentions with you could be.

“No,” you answer after a moment, “I was in the forest trying to get away from home. My life there.. It wouldn’t be good if I went back.”

“Then.. you stay? I’ll help you. Protect you,” Changbin offers, a faint smile appearing on his lips when you nod.

“I’ll stay,” you affirm. It’ll be strange at first, you’re sure, living in a castle in the middle of the apparently enchanted woods with The Beast your village fears so much. But you’d rather live here, with a physical beast, rather than back home, with the metaphorical one you’d be forced to call “husband.”

Living with The Beast, Changbin, is surprisingly pleasant. It was easier than you expected it to be; almost natural.

On your first official night in the abandoned castle he made his home, he gave you a tour. What was intended to be a tour of strictly the important rooms you’d be expected to frequent turned into a several hour long walkthrough of the entire estate. He took you through the kitchen, the bathrooms, the study, the drawing room, the library, the watchtower– everything.

You could tell which rooms he frequented most by how dusty they were. If there was very little dust, you concluded that he was there often. If there was a large accumulation of it, he stayed out of it.

The watchtower was one of the rooms he liked to be in the most, often finding himself surveying the forest from it. That's how he saw you fleeing the wolves– and the moment he did, he descended the tower in a rush, hoping to get to you before any harm would befall you.

Additionally, you learned that his bedroom is in the opposite wing of yours. Changbin said he purposely chose the room furthest from his own to put you in because he thought you’d be more comfortable that way if you chose to stay for a while. He’s used to humans fearing him, and he wanted to give you whatever distance you’d need to feel safe during your time here.

Truthfully, you stopped being scared of him very quickly. If there was anyone the term “gentle giant” suited, it was assuredly Changbin. He always stepped through the castle carefully, doing his best not to shake the ground too hard and risk shattering glass or knocking over vulnerable statues and vases.

He knew his voice was booming, so he always tried to speak softly. It was still loud, of course, but you knew it could be much louder if he allowed himself to project it fully. When he handled porcelain or other breakables, he would move his hands so slowly and carefully that you’d think he was holding a newborn baby.

Changbin would often stare at you quietly when you were in the same room, assumedly out of curiosity. He’d never gotten the chance to share a space with a human, or to observe them up close for such great lengths of time; it made you wonder what he must think of you.

You wondered if there was anything he assumed a human would be that didn’t prove true, similar to how wrong you were about him. You always noticed his staring, and oftentimes when you decided to return his gaze, he’d quickly turn away.

Did he have the gut human instinct to look away when eye contact becomes too intense or prolonged? Was he simply shy? Both?

Sometimes he would smile before he looked away, the faintest peek of a dimple showing on his cheek before darting his eyes elsewhere. Sometimes his cheeks would dust over a soft pink, and other times, on the rare moments he let himself smile more fully, the bridge of his nose would scrunch up similarly to a humans.

Was it strange to say you found such moments cute? He was oddly endearing in the way he went about life, in his mannerisms and complexities. And admittedly, you’d stare at him the same way he stared at you when his attention was elsewhere.

At first, you justified it to yourself by saying you couldn’t help it– you discovered a magical creature that you always thought was nothing more than a story is real. How could you not stare at him? But lately, you weren’t so sure that’s all there was to it.

Changbin was many things outside of being The Beast. He was warm, soft, and sincere. Caring, considerate, and careful. He was.. Attractive. Handsome. Cute. Words you never thought you’d use to describe a creature with protruding horns and other inhuman features. And with each season passed inside the castle together, the more you grew fond of him.

You spent many afternoons together in the library. You were surprised to learn he could read; something that perhaps shouldn’t have been surprising in hindsight, given his capability of speech, but it still shocked you. The ability to read wasn’t something necessary to his everyday life, but he liked doing it to pass time, or ease the loneliness of living alone.

All the books in the castle’s library were dated, easily hundreds of years old; it was clear that every single book was one left behind by the previous inhabitants, and not a single new book had entered the library since. Their age didn’t make them any less enjoyable however, and in fact you found it exciting to have so many stories you’d never heard of before to dive into.

Watching Changbin read was a treat within itself. Even the thickest of novels looked comically small in his large hands, and turning pages was always a struggle for him. You couldn’t help but giggle watching him try to turn a single page with his finger, only to instead turn several. There were many times you took it upon yourself to help him once your giggling subsided.

Given his size, he’d often have to sit in a hunched position, or hold books up quite close to his face to read them. And the words– they must’ve looked so tiny to him; you were certain it was a strain. Then add his struggle to turn pages on top of it..

While it was cute to watch him pout after he turned way too many pages at once, you also didn’t want to just sit idly by if he was having a hard time. Especially not when you were more than capable of assisting him.

He was surprised when you first offered to help him read, curiously tilting his head as he watched you close the book you were reading to walk over to him. Changbin often sat on the floor, much too big and heavy to sit in the castle’s arm chairs or sofas. His place on the floor made it easy for you to climb up his leg, and sit on his thigh.

“I could turn the pages for you,” you explained, reaching over to the book lying in his hands to demonstrate how easy it is for you to turn the pages one at a time. “Or read them to you, should your eyes grow tired from looking at the tiny words,” you said.

You remember his smile clearly; how sweet it was, and the way his nose cutely scrunched as his smile grew the biggest you’d seen it. He seemed really thankful; he didn’t say it, but you think it meant a lot to him that you were showing him kindness.

That’s how you fell into a comfortable routine. At least a few afternoons a week, you’d sit somewhere on Changbin’s body; one of his thighs if you were reading the book to him, or his forearm if you were turning the pages for him. Sometimes his shoulder too, if a book needed to be held especially close to his face for him to be able to read the words written.

When the sun would set, and candles needed to be lit, you often sat on his shoulder as he moved about the room, helping him light them. He’d always help you up carefully, offering one of his large hands as support, or carefully wrap his fingers around you to lift you up to his shoulder. He wouldn’t move an inch or take a single step until he was certain you were steady and comfortable.

You’d always get sleepy after that. The moon through the windows, the soft candle light, the sound of turning pages as the wood in the library’s fireplace crackled, the warmth Changbin exuded.. It was just so comfortable; especially if you were sitting on his thigh.

His fur was like a blanket, his broad, soft torso like a warm pillow. And sometimes, when you relaxed all the way against him, you could hear his heart rhythmically beating. It wasn’t uncommon for you to fall asleep, and every time you did, Changbin would carry you back to your room.

He would carefully cradle you in his arms, and you’d unconsciously curl into him as he rose up from the ground to carry you to bed. The doors of the castle, while larger than any typical door, were still too small to accommodate his size.

He’d have to duck through them while also minding his horns, your body pressing to his chest as he hunched his body to step through them. If you were awake enough to feel it, you never minded it. If you were being honest, you liked it. You liked the warmth when he held you, liked feeling his chest against you, liked hearing the thumping of his heart.

Sometimes, you were tempted to ask him to stay with you, or to ask him to take you to his room. Changbin was just so comfortable and warm– having him next to you all night just sounded like it’d be so pleasant. Safe too; you always felt safe in his presence.

The following mornings, you’d stare up at your canopy and wonder if such thoughts were okay to have. Changbin was a man– an inhuman man, but a man all the same. And it was in these moments, alone in your room and fresh from sleep, contemplating where you are and the life you lead now that you realize you are more than just fond of Changbin.

You knew you would never leave the castle, but it wasn’t just because your best chance at survival and protection was here. It was because the thought of leaving him behind made your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. You didn’t like contemplating what a life without him in it would look like.

And it was almost funny how despite being a beast, Changbin was the kindest man you’d ever known. Complicated as it may be, you think you love him more than you should. You want him more than you should.

It’d hit you when you shared meals, and he’d watch you with his impossibly dark, warm eyes. His attentive stare made you warm– too warm. You’d swallow, try to focus on anything other than his full lips, or the swell of his chest, or the flex of his arms when he reached out to grab a piece of meat.

It'd hit you when you watched him split wood for the fireplaces with his bare hands. Your heart would swell when you'd step out to the gardens, and he'd carefully maneuver so as to not crush the growing flowers. From innocent, sweet love to deepest, carnal desire, and then back again, your thoughts of Changbin were like a pendulum.

It’d even hit you in the moments of comfortable silence, when ease settled over you both at day's end. When you’d tentatively steal glances at each other until your eyes accidentally meet, and you both look away, bashful and unsure.

You’d feel it creeping on you, warming your body exponentially until you felt feverish with desire to be closer to him. Even alone, in bed or in the bath, your thoughts would linger on him. Innocent thoughts and curiosities about how it'd be for him to kiss and hold you quickly give way to perversion– impure thoughts you really, really think you shouldn’t be having.

You needed to get yourself together. There’s no way an intimate relationship is feasible between you– you shouldn’t even be entertaining the thought. But God, you can’t stop your mind from going there. Even just watching him lick his lips and fingers clean after he finishes eating is enough to get your heart racing these days.

Every day, you desperately try to ignore it.

It’s easier on the days you venture outside the castle’s familiar walls. Warm, sunny days, where you explore the forest from the safety of Changbin’s broad shoulder. He showed you so many things you’d never seen before, things you never thought were real.

Fairy villages, magic healing ponds, meadows of enchanted flowers. His fairy friends were excited to meet you, and similar to Changbin himself, you realized they were much kinder than tales would lead you to believe.

They were tricksters, yes; many were fond of a good prank. But really, they just wanted to have fun, and there was no inherent harm in that. (Though Changbin did advise you to speak carefully, lest you accidentally end up in a fae pact he’d have no way to help you out of.)

You watched Changbin trade with them too. A few beads from a broken necklace or marbles from a forgotten child’s playset he found within the castle you called home was all he needed to provide to receive bushels of their freshly grown fruits and vegetables.

If you returned back to the castle with a good chunk of daylight left, you’d spend them together in the castle’s flower garden. It was overgrown, and sometimes hard to navigate, but you always enjoyed your time there. Changbin would always set you down to the ground carefully, letting you roam the garden at your leisure while he picked a sunny spot in the grass to relax in.

You got the idea to make him a flower crown once. It was something you and other village girls enjoyed doing, and it was common to give them to people you cared for. It was simple, but you thought it’d be a good way to show your appreciation to Changbin for all the ways he helped you since the day you met him.

You wondered, as you went around the garden picking flowers, if he had ever received a gift before. Apart from his dealings with the fairies, he lived a very isolated life before he met you. And while the fairies were his friends to some extent, you couldn’t imagine them giving something away without receiving something in return.

You suppose you just wanted him to have the feeling of joy that comes with a gift. The warm feeling that settles in your chest when you realize someone was thinking of you, the delight that seeps inside you when you see the effort they made to give you a visual representation of how much they care for you. You were thinking that Changbin deserves to have that feeling.

When you were done collecting what felt like dozens of flowers, you sat yourself in the sunny grass clearing next to Changbin. He was lying flat on his back, the sun highlighting his face beautifully. His eyes were closed, and the soft snores (for his size, anyways), told you he’d fallen asleep.

You observed him for a moment, smiling to yourself over how soft and cute his features looked whilst sleeping before you got to work on the flower crown. It took quite some time considering you had to make it much larger than you typically would. Changbin eventually stirred awake and sat up, watching you work curiously but ultimately saying nothing as he observed– he didn’t want to distract you.

“Finally! All done!” you exclaimed after threading the final of the flowers you picked together, and Changbin did his usual inquisitive tilt of the head. “It’s pretty. What is it for?” he asked, watching as you rise to your feet with your creation in hand. “It’s a flower crown,” you answer as you hold it out to him to accept, “for you.”

He simply blinked in response, saying nothing as he processed the information. It may not have been the first time he’d ever been given a gift by another, but it was certainly the first one he’d ever received from a human. You didn’t intend to let it be the last, either. “Crown?” he finally asked after a moment, “I wear it?”

“Mhm! Like this,” you said as you held the crown around your head to try to show him what you meant. “It’s too big for my head since I made it for you, but.. Here, let me put it on you!” You hooked the flower crown you made gently around your arm after you spoke, and grabbed at one of his hands.

Changbin understood what you wanted him to do, and so he lowered his hands to the ground so that you could step onto them. You sat on your knees whilst in his hands, finding it much easier to keep your balance that way as opposed to standing; and then, as he had many times before, he lifted you carefully up.

You instructed him to tilt his head towards you, and he did without question. It occurred to you then that maybe you underestimated how big you needed to make the flower crown.

The one you made was definitely big– too big for a human head, that was for sure. Still, Changbin is at least double the size of every man in your village, and he has horns. Realizing there was no way to make it sit around his head the way it's intended to, you opted for simply placing it on his head between his horns, and letting it rest there.

You smiled at him when he lifted his head, and told him what you truly thought– that he looked cute. “Really?” he questioned, surprised to be considered such. There have been many words by humans and his little winged friends used to describe him, and ‘cute’ wasn’t usually among them.

You watched him as he processed his thoughts, another few moments passing before he moved his hands to one of his shoulders, urging you to get on. You did, clinging to his cape tightly when he moved faster than you expected him to. Changbin was always patient and careful when you were on him, always moving slowly– you hadn’t anticipated the sudden change in the slightest.

You were a little confused, unsure of what his sudden rush to leave the gardens was, but it quickly became clear; he was looking for somewhere to see his reflection. He tried the fountain first, but when he realized he couldn’t see himself clearly enough in the water, he made his way back to the castle.

The entry doors to the castle were tall and wide enough that he didn’t have to hunch or awkwardly step through them, but he still moved carefully through it. Despite his rush to see himself, he still wasn’t walking as fast as you both knew he could.

He was trying his best not to break the glass and porcelain inside nearby cabinets with his steps, though he was still moving quick enough that the castle’s floor shook as he continued through the entry hall. His desire to be careful even whilst in a rush was endearing; it brought a smile to your face.

The ballroom was Changbin’s ultimate destination. It had a large mirror, floor to ceiling, encompassing a substantial chunk of the wall opposite the windows. It was the only room in the entire castle that had a mirror large enough for him to see his entire reflection with, from the tips of his horns all the way down to his hooved feet.

His eyes changed when he first saw his reflection– so fast that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. He got up close to the mirror, examining himself with the flower crown you made for him resting between his horns, and truly, he looked happy.

You chose the colors of the flowers well, each one meant to compliment the deep brown of his hair. Soft yellows, vibrant blues, and light, pretty pinks– each selection, in your eye, was perfect. You were relieved that Changbin seemed to agree.

He wasn’t just looking at the flowers atop his head in the reflection though; he was also looking at you. Sat there on his shoulder, looking at him with more kindness than he’d ever felt from anyone. Your eyes met through the reflection, and he could feel his heart starting to beat faster– he wondered if you could feel it too, with your legs dangling over his chest.

He’d never felt this way before, and didn’t know what to do with himself. He knew from his books that humans give gifts to people they care about, and for many reasons. Kindness, appreciation, love.. What was your reason? He found himself hoping it was all of them. He hoped you cared about him as much as he cares about you.

“Thank you,” Changbin said, realizing that he should’ve done so from the start. He thought maybe he should read more books on human manners and improve himself. He hoped he didn’t seem inappreciative by taking so long to thank you for doing something kind for him. His worries melted away when you smiled at him again though, sincere and sweet as always.

“You’re welcome! You’ve always done so much to help me, I wanted to thank you somehow,” you explain. Changbin didn’t think you needed to thank him for anything. No matter who it was out in the forest that night, he would’ve helped them. He’d have let them stay in his home, fed them, and made sure they were well.

But he’s glad it was you; he doesn’t think he could envision the castle without you in it anymore. There may come a day when you grow tired of Changbin being your only companion, and of your daily life in the castle. On that day, you may wish to return to human society, even if your return isn’t to the village you grew up in.

He’d let you go if you wanted to; he’d never, never force you to stay. But he hopes you stay. He hopes that you’ll always be here with him.

“But that’s not the only reason I made it,” you continued, finding a moment of bravery to be a bit vulnerable with your feelings. Changbin watched your expression change in the mirror, your brightness replaced by something more timid as you twiddled your thumbs.

Apart from your tentative first nights here when you were still getting comfortable with his presence, you always met his gaze head on while talking. This was the first time since then that you hesitated to look him in the eye whilst speaking to him, even if it was just eye contact through the ballroom mirror. He found it curious; he wondered if he should be worried.

“The girls in my village also like to make these for people we care about. I wanted you to know that too. That I care about you,” you told him. It felt incredibly nerve wracking to say it aloud, though you didn't think he'd pick up on the underlying romantic sentiment that village girls usually tied to their gifted flower crowns.

Honestly, it was okay if he didn’t recognize how much you like him. Perhaps in some ways it was better if he didn’t; because you are a small human, and Changbin is so much more than that.

Difference in anatomy aside, you don’t think humans and beasts are supposed to have deep feelings for one another. Friendship was fine, you thought, but love? You just weren’t sure that was a line you should cross.

Still, regardless of whether or not such feelings towards him were okay to have, they were already there. Before that day, you thought you loved him; but seeing him look at you, pink in the cheeks and happy, with the flower crown on his head that you made him, you knew for certain.

You love him. And watching the concern melt away and turn to joy when you told him you care about him was more than enough to tell you how deeply you adore him.

You decided to leave the moment with one last, small gesture. You leaned over, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. It was a simple, innocent sign of affection, but his heart stuttered all the same, as did yours.

“I care about you too,” he’d said with his usual soft, timid smile when you looked at him again, the pink on his cheeks deepening, "very much.”

Laying awake as you are now, recalling your memories with Changbin, you yearn for him even more. You want him beyond friendship, foolish and impossible as it may be. You want to tell him you love him, to kiss him, to lie with him at night and feel his warmth envelope you all over.

You want to touch him, want him to touch you, want to straddle as much of his waist as you can as he lies beneath you, and– God, enough, you huff to yourself. You roll over, bury your head in your pillows and let out a frustrated yell into them.

You wish you knew what to do with these feelings. How would things go if you simply told him? What if you said nothing, and instead acted on them in one of your quietly shared moments of comfort? Would he accept your kiss? Would he return your feelings?

Tossing onto your back once more, you stare up at your canopy as you always do when your brain is plagued by thoughts of Changbin. You sigh after a moment, and close your eyes, wondering if he ever lies awake at night like you do, if he has feelings like yours that he too doesn’t know what to do with. Though you probably shouldn’t, you can’t help but hope that he does.

The arrival of winter didn't make your struggle with your feelings for Changbin any easier. The outdoors used to serve as a distraction; your growing love and attraction to him was never truly silenced, but at least you found it easier to focus your attention elsewhere whilst you were outside the castle walls.

All you can do when you're inside the castle is think of him. When you're in the same room, you find it hard not to stare at him. And sure, you stared at him a lot before, but now it felt different; because before, you were simply curious about him. Now it's purely because you're too lovesick to look anywhere else.

When you read books together, you often find that you don't actually remember what happened in the story. At some point, your thoughts always travel to Changbin, and they linger there despite all efforts to focus on the book in your hands.

The fact that his body is touching yours more often these days doesn't help. It's a particularly cold winter, perhaps the coldest it's ever been in all your years. Snow is piled up to your calves when you step outside, tree branches are completely frosted over, and icicles hang from nearly every inch of the castle's exterior.

Suffice it to say, you are often very cold. Changbin doesn't suffer from the cold nearly as much as you do, but he does his best to keep the castle warmer for your sake. The minute you step into a room he lights the fireplace for you, and you stick close to it, sitting before it with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

But even still, you found yourself shivering much more than either of you'd like. The only time you stopped was when you were in his lap, likely thanks to the inhuman amount of warmth that radiates off his body.

So now, instead of sitting or laying in his lap just being a part of helping him read, you'd spend a majority of your winter days there, clinging to his warmth. He'd sit himself as close to the fireplace as he could, with you curled snuggly on his lap.

His fur was like an extra blanket, warm and soft and comfortable. Nearly every day was spent next to the library's fireplace, as reading was about the only thing you could do whilst trying to stay warm.

Though, as previously stated, you found it hard to focus on reading lately. And even when you did manage to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes would quickly grow heavy; Changbin was just too comfortable to lay on– you just couldn't resist dozing off.

Every night was cold, but some were worse than others. On the first of one of those extra chilly nights, when the time in which you'd go your separate ways for bed came, Changbin hesitated to carry you back to your room. Even if he lit your fireplace before he left, you'd be cold without him, he knew it for a fact.

He looked down at where he held you in his arms, asleep and curled into him, cozy and warm, and he made a decision; he took you to his room. You would understand, he thought. You may be confused when you wake up in a room that isn’t your own, but you’d understand why you were there.

And you trust him now; you wouldn’t be upset with him, especially not when he has your best interest at heart. He hoped not, anyways; in his experience, humans can be unpredictable. But you're a good human– one that he likes and cares for more than he ever has for anyone else.

With such thoughts in mind, he carried you to his room. And as he hoped, you weren't upset in the slightest to wake up the next morning beside him (or more accurately, atop him.)

You were certainly confused at first, opening your eyes and blinking away sleep only to be met with slightly unfamiliar surroundings. The windows and the view through them were the same, but the room was brighter than your own, with no curtains to obscure the sunrays pouring over you. There was less furniture strewn about than in your own room, and you were higher up from the ground than you’d be if you were lying in your own bed.

It took a moment for you to become cognitive enough to register that the reason for this, along with what the blissful warmth you were feeling was, was Changbin's body underneath you. One of his hands was resting on your back too, heavy and limp with sleep, but you didn't mind it. Strangely, you found the weight of his hand on your back comforting.

Your head was on his chest, and you could hear the rhythmic beating of his heart, slow but steady. That too, was comforting. You closed your eyes again, but you didn't fall asleep like you might otherwise expect. You were simply basking in the comfort, enjoying lying with him in bed like you'd been wanting to for so long. You wondered if he'd let you stay even once winter came to an end.

When you felt him begin to stir awake, you lifted your head to look at him, watching him fondly as he stretched and hummed, and blinked away the last bits of whatever dream he was having. When your eyes met for the first time that morning, he seemed apprehensive; it was easy to deduce that he thought you may be uncomfortable with his choice to bring you here.

Ideally, he would've asked you first, or let you know that the option would be available should you want it; but when he thought about how cold you'd be shivering alone in bed, he just couldn't leave you be. When you smiled at him and whispered a soft good morning, you saw nothing but pure relief in his eyes.

You knew Changbin's heart, that he was nothing but sweet and caring. The trust you placed in him, and the way you wordlessly understood him made his heart soar. But not just that– laying with you every night, and waking up to you in general made his body react in ways entirely foreign to him.

Naturally, from that cold winter’s night onward, you always slept with him. Your body, so soft and smooth, felt good pressed against him. If you weren’t yet asleep when he’d lie down with you in his arms, you’d hug him after you both settled in; your arms obviously couldn’t wrap fully around him, but you’d still try to get as much of his body in your embrace as you could manage to.

And every morning, when you’d sit up in his lap and look down at him, his heart would always stutter, his already incredibly warm body growing hotter. Your sweet smile, your softly spoken “good morning”s, the way your lightly tousled hair beautifully framed your face– all of it affected him in ways he never imagined would happen to him.

Changbin knew of such feelings conceptually– he’s read more than his fair share of novels featuring romantic subplots within the library. But he always thought such experiences and sentiments would be out of reach for him; he was the only one of his kind in the forest, and normal humans feared him too greatly to build a bond with him.

Even you feared him at first, and while he hoped that it wouldn’t always be that way, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you never grew to like him. He was so, so happy when, in only a short time, you were no longer scared of him. He was even happier when you showed him kindness. He was happier still when he realized you considered him a friend. Having a companion after so many years of loneliness was more valuable to him than words could express.

In some ways, he supposes falling in love with you was natural. How couldn’t he fall in love with the first person to ever see him for who he was past his appearance? The first person who told him they liked his appearance. He didn’t believe you the first time you said it– how could he? All he’d ever known before from humans was fear and scorn.

He didn’t know how to accept it, always left in disbelief when you complimented him. But even if he didn’t quite believe it, he still liked hearing it. He liked it when you called him cute, or said he looked handsome, or kissed his cheek after calling him sweet.

He liked when you smiled at him, and the way you’d try to hold his hand despite how much smaller yours were than his. He liked listening to you talk, whether it was because you were reading a book to him, or because you had a lot on your mind; he could listen to you for hours, no matter the topic.

He likes hearing about your dreams, he likes the sound of your giggle, he likes the way you twirl in your dresses. He liked it when you taught him how to dance, and how you encouraged him when his steps were initially awkward. He liked how thoughtful and good you were to him. He likes that you help him believe he truly is all the kind things you describe him as.

No, he shouldn’t say he likes those things about you– it was much more accurate to say he loves them. Changbin loves everything about you. He wants to tell you as much, but he never imagined it’d be so difficult to say; he always thought that when the characters in his books struggled to find the words, it was merely exaggeration for dramatic effect.

In reality, it actually is quite hard to speak such things aloud. Changbin is normally a very candid person, able to speak whatever he thinks freely; but when it comes to you, and the feelings he has for you, his mouth runs dry, the words lodging in his throat. And realistically, should he even say them?

He knows it's true when you compliment him, he knows that you genuinely care for him and enjoy his company. But it’s hard to believe you can love him, it’s hard not to think he’s too different from you, hard to completely shut out the memories of humans fearing him. Sometimes, he’s scared that deep down there’s a part of you that still fears him.

"Changbin? Are you asleep..?" your voice calls to him softly, breaking him from his thoughts. It honestly startled him just a little; he's so used to you already being asleep before you're brought into the room, or falling asleep quickly if you aren't. He hadn't expected your voice to break the silence.

As is typical for your nightly arrangement, you're lying atop him with your head on his chest. It's only now that he realizes your fingers have been absentmindedly tracing his skin the entire time he was lost in thought.

Changbin doesn't have a bed in the traditional sense– he's much too big to fit on human mattresses. Instead, he has various pillows and blankets piled together on the floor. It's surprisingly comfortable, but you always find yourself laying on him, rather than next to him on his makeshift bed.

"I'm awake," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice as soft and low as possible, "..was thinking." You hum, and lift yourself up to look at him. The room is dark, but his lack of curtains allows you to clearly make out his features in the moonlight.

He can see you just as clearly, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest; you're always so pretty when the moon illuminates you.

"So was I. Made it hard to fall asleep," you reply, and Changbin eyes you curiously. He can tell by your somewhat solemn expression that something seems to be weighing on you. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, something I can't stop thinking about," you continue.

Changbin swallows, suddenly nervous. Given where his thoughts were just moments ago, he can't help but fear that the moment he's been dreading has finally come– this is where you ask him to take you home.

Maybe not home, as the village you grew up in is a place you don't wish to return, but away from here– away from him. Back to human society where you belong, to a place that he could never hope to follow, a place he could never live in with you.

"Wh-What.. What is it?" he asks, hesitant; he really hopes you can't tell how anxious he is, but he's certain his voice has betrayed it already. He wishes he wasn't so terrified of losing you.

Even in the dim lighting, you could clearly see the way his expression changed to one of immense trepidation. You wonder if he's nervous because he can see that you're nervous. It takes you a moment to even begin to speak again, timidly fidgeting with your fingers as you try to will your voice to return to you.

"Have you ever.. been in love..?" you ask him, voice so soft and timid that Changbin almost misses it, even with his exceptional hearing. You watch as his ears flick, his eyes widen slightly as he takes your question in, his cheeks growing ever so slightly pinker.

His surprise is to be expected– from his perspective, this question must seem incredibly out of the blue. But truthfully, it's been eating at you for weeks. You know you're in love with Changbin, but you don't know how possible it is for him to love you back. You don't know if he's ever loved anyone at all– and you have to know.

If not to give yourself hope, then to put your infatuation with him to rest once and for all. If he rejects you, living with him may be awkward for a time, but at least you could try to put an end to your hopeless pining.

Changbin blinks, unsure how to respond. If he were to answer on the basis of what his life was like before you were in it, then the answer was no– he'd never been in love. Never, in all his years, had met someone and fallen for them.

But if he were to answer for the present.. Is he in love now? Yes, he is– he's in love with you. Your eyes search his desperately, and it's clear there's an answer you're hoping to hear– but which answer is it? You chew your bottom lip nervously as you watch him consider his answer. "No, and yes," he finally responds.

"No, and yes..?" you mimic, uncertain and curious. Changbin nods, and he's thankful you're no longer laying on his chest, because you'd certainly hear the quick, erratic thumping of his heart.

"I was never in love. Not before. I.. am in love now," he says, letting out a nervous exhale as the last word leaves his lips. The implication is clear, and he watches apprehensively as your eyes widen, and the truth fully settles itself within you.

Changbin is always honest and forthright, in a way that humans typically never are. Free of societal norms and expectations, he's never had to lie about anything, nor does he feel the need to. So when he looks into your eyes, deep and vulnerable, and tells you that what he feels now is love, you believe him entirely.

"Me too," you utter softly, voice a timid whisper, "I was never in love, not before.. I am now."

Changbin sits up from his makeshift bed, quickly bringing one of his large hands to your back so that the sudden movement doesn't cause you to topple off him. He doesn't want to be lying down when he asks you if this means what he thinks it does– he wants to meet your gaze directly.

"Do you mean that? Can you really love me?" he questions, hopeful but unsure– it nearly breaks your heart that he even has to ask. If there's anything in your life that you're certain of, it's that Changbin is the best man you've ever known.

It doesn't matter that he's not entirely human, it doesn't matter that he eclipses you in size and stature, it doesn't matter that he has horns, hooves, and a tail. All that matters is how he treats you, and makes you feel; and you've never known anyone who makes you feel as warm, safe, and cared for as he does.

Sitting in his lap, you look up at him and smile, warm and affectionate. "I've never meant anything more than I mean this– I love you, Changbin."

In all his life, even at his loneliest and most isolated, in his most saddened and hurt, he'd never had the urge to cry. But now he feels it, welling from deep inside and choking him up. He's always wanted to be accepted, loved– even when it seemed impossible and entirely irrational, he wanted it.

What is it that humans do when they're filled with so much emotion for another? All his books have different answers, but there's one that sticks in his mind predominantly– they get married. And perhaps he can't marry you the way a human man can, but he can make the same vow; he can, and will, promise to love you for the rest of your lives.

You reach out to him, placing your hands on round cheeks, the heat of his blush incredibly warm on your palms. "Can I kiss you?" you ask him, and he sucks in a breath, nodding shyly. His ears pick up on the loud thumping of his quickly beating heart– he wonders if it's loud enough for you to hear it too.

You lean up as he leans down for you, both of you closing your eyes as you touch your lips softly to his. You linger there, feeling the blush on his cheeks flare with more heat as you kiss him. When you pull back, you can see his eyes sparkling with awe and adoration. Shyly, he breaks his gaze away from your eyes, darting them down to your lips; it’s easy to tell he wants to kiss you again.

With your hands still on his cheeks, you guide him back to you. You kiss him again and again, slow and gentle. Eventually, you let your hands move to his chest, and you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart beneath your fingertips. He brings one of his hands to your waist, and pulls you closer, until your tiny body is flush with his.

His lips are so plump and soft, and now that you know what they feel like against your own, you never want to stop kissing him. Unfortunately for you, your lungs are much smaller than Changbin’s, and you run out of breath very quickly, often having to be the one to pull away first.

He always watches you intently when you do, all the care and affection he has towards you pouring out of him in droves as he stares at you. But there's a new emotion written in his eyes too– desire, yearning. All you’ve done is kiss him, but he’s positively, undeniably enchanted by you, a deeply rooted need for more of your touch clawing its way to the surface.

When you kiss him again, you tentatively run your tongue across his bottom lip. The feeling jolts him, sending a shiver down his spine. He parts his lips, cautiously slipping his tongue out to run over yours, butterflies erupting in his stomach over the soft noise of approval you give him in response.

His tongue is longer than yours, as well thick and textured– it makes you imagine what it’d feel like if you progressed further, and allowed him to run it over every inch of your body. For now, you simply open your mouth for him, letting him lick and explore; it fills you with a strange sensation unlike anything you’ve ever felt, but you love it.

Changbin carefully scoops his hands beneath you, lifting you up so he doesn’t have to hunch down to kiss you anymore. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you can whilst your kisses continue to deepen and become more heated. He eventually grows just as breathless as you, his broad chest heaving as his thirst for you grows in intensity.

It’s almost too much for him– the feeling of you in his hands, of you trying to press as much of your body to him as you can, of your sweet scent all over him. The need he feels for you goes beyond anything he’s ever felt, a deep innate hunger and desperation beginning to gnaw at him, clawing at his sense of reason.

He wants more of you– how much more he doesn’t know, but to simply kiss you isn’t enough. All of you, he thinks; he needs all of you in every way. He wants to feel you everywhere, to taste you everywhere, needs to experience the depths of love and intimacy with you.

He’s been trying for so long to deny how bad he wants it, so scared of scaring you off with unwanted advances– but now that he knows you feel the same as him, now that you’re kissing him like this, fevered and hungry, he can’t deny his craving for you any longer.

“Please,” Changbin whines under his breath when you next pull away, his voice the most light and airy either of you have ever heard. Anything, he’ll take anything you’re willing to give him– he just wants you, so badly he can hardly think straight anymore. It sends a wave of heat through your body, butterflies thrashing in your stomach.

“Set me down, please?” you ask, and instantly he worries that he crossed a boundary, made you uncomfortable by wanting too much too soon. Still, he does as you ask, lowering his hands to the ground so you can reunite with the ground. He swallows nervously as he watches you step off his hands; thankfully, some of the tension he feels is eased when you shoot him your characteristically sweet, yet currently more bashful, smile.

The heat on his face flares when you break your gaze away from his face to look at his erection, fully unsheathed and visibly leaking large amounts of pre-cum. It’s thick, as is to be expected given his size, but to actually see it with your own eyes is astonishing. “Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed, starting to grab one of the many blankets littering the floor so he can cover himself.

You shake your head and reach for his hand, stopping him in his tracks. He slowly sets the blanket back down, both of you gazing at each other shyly as you swallow down your nerves to speak. “I want to.. Can I touch it..?” you ask, and oh, the way he throbs from the question alone. You can see it, heavy where it lies against his thighs, throbbing with desire and anticipation.

“Y-You- you want to?” he asks, very nearly sent reeling when you shyly nod your head. He’s wanted this for so long; and he tried not to, really. It felt inappropriate to want you that way, almost shameful every time he got hard with you in mind.

You always interacted with each other so sweetly, innocently– it felt perverse to lie in his makeshift bed at night and throb over the way your breasts looked pressed together in your dresses, or over the glimpses he got of your legs and thighs when you twirled around.

It wasn’t this way from the start; when he rescued you deep in the woods, he had nothing but pure intentions. He didn’t know you were beautiful, he didn’t know how soft and sweet you were, didn’t know how radiant you were in body and soul. He didn’t know he’d grow to love you, nor could he have predicted how badly he’d want you as his infatuation for you grew.

Little does he know that you always wanted him just as bad, your late night thoughts always consumed by him. None of the village men ever made you feel the way Changbin does, never made your heart race or stomach erupt in butterflies, never filled you with such insatiable need for touch.

“Ahh, I-” he exhales, trying to discreetly wipe away the sweat accumulating in his palms due to his nerves, “I.. yes, please, I’d like it.” Even just the thought of you touching his cock makes him feel like his heart is going to leap out of his chest– he has no idea how he’ll feel when you actually do it. Still, he wants it; and he watches you, unconsciously holding his breath as he waits for you to act.

He’s leaking so much, and it occurs to you that your dress will get very wet and messy if you leave it on while you touch him. The thought of being naked in front of Changbin makes you nervous, but also excites you somehow; and technically speaking, he’s always naked in front of you– apart from the cape he wears during the day, anyways. So there’s no reason to be so shy about it, right?

You gaze up at him, still timid despite the pep talk you’re giving yourself internally, and you reach behind your back to untie the ribbons that keep your silk gown on your body. You can hear Changbin’s breath hitch as the fabric loosens and begins to fall away, your bare torso becoming visible to his eyes for the first time.

Your breasts were so pretty, so full– and yet even then, they’d surely look small in his large hands. Still, you weren’t done revealing yourself to him just yet; reaching lower down your back, you loosen another ribbon– the one keeping it held around your waist. Your gown falls down your hips and to the floor once untied, now left only in your panties before his eyes.

Fuck, he wants to touch you– but you asked him first, and he’s not going to interrupt whatever you have planned for him. You step closer to him, and climb up his leg to sit yourself on one of his large thighs. He can’t help but gasp when you bring your hands to his cock, and just as you thought it’d be from seeing it, it’s heavy.

It’s much too thick to wrap your fingers around, your hands appearing impossibly small in comparison. You rub your hands over his sensitive tip, glancing up at Changbin’s face when he lets out a whine. Your hands quickly become slick from the steadily leaking pre-cum, gliding easily up and down the length of his cock. There’s not as much friction as there’d be if it was Changbin’s own hand, but he prefers this despite it– having you touch him is much, much better.

He moans when you lean forward to kiss and lick the tip, his pre-cum smearing over your lips and cheeks. He fists the blankets below him, his breaths growing harsher as he watches you work him up. Your hands stroke his length in a steady rhythm while you continue to lavish his tip with attention using your mouth, and he can’t help the frequency of his whines and moans.

He already feels so close– you're so soft, so wet, it drives him crazy. When you stop kissing and licking his cock, you sit up to look back up at him, and God, the sight of you– you’re glistening with his pre-cum and your own saliva. It’s dripped down your chin, falling to your breasts and the sight proves too much for him– he whimpers, stuttering out your name as his cock twitches and spurts of thick cum begin to shoot from the tip.

You make a noise of surprise, watching in awe as it coats your bodies; his stomach, your whole torso, your hands– you wouldn’t be surprised if some ended up on the blankets beneath him too. Your stomach flips when he finally comes down from his high and looks at you. Reddened cheeks, flushed body, harsh breaths– and yet he still gazes at you hungrily.

“Your turn,” he breathes as he effortlessly scoops you into his hands, paying no mind to the mess that covers you. His carnal desire for you is fraying at him, his shyness becoming increasingly eclipsed by his need. “Can I-” he starts, lifting you up towards his face, “Is it okay? Can I do the same for you? Please?”

He’s sure you can feel how much his hands are trembling for you– he hasn’t even seen between your legs yet, hasn’t yet tasted you, but his mind already feels like it’s in a frenzy. “Yes, please,” you tell him with a nod, and he brings you closer, responding with an appreciative, hungry kiss. He licks away the mess left there, then swipes his tongue over your torso, not at all minding the taste of his own cum.

You squirm in his hands, and when he’s done, he gently nudges you with his nose, urging you to lay back. Your back meets his fingers, your butt cradled in his palms while your legs dangle over his wrists. “Can you take them off like this?” he asks, and you nod, letting out a nervous exhale as you bring your hands to your sides, and hook the hem of your panties in your fingers.

You know Changbin would never drop you or let you fall, but you’re still careful not to make big movements as you slide them down your thighs, and then lift your legs to pull them off. You toss them aside, and shyly spread your legs open for him to look at your dripping pussy. You smell so sweet– he imagines that you’ll taste even sweeter.

You shiver when he starts by placing kisses between your thighs, your legs spreading further apart to accommodate him. He sticks out his tongue, and the whine you let you when he licks between your folds is intoxicating. His tongue is too big to focus only on your clit, but the sensation of him licking up and down is still utterly delicious.

He moans and hums as he devours you, and the vibration of it makes you tremble. You let out a loud whimper and your eyes roll back when he dips his tongue carefully into your hole. It reaches deeper than your fingers ever could, feels so much better than them too– you never imagined something could feel this good.

Your nails dig into his palms, but Changbin pays no mind to it, continuing to alternate between dipping his tongue into your hole and licking you up from top to bottom. He can feel your body tensing, the shaking of your legs and twitching of your thighs growing more intense as he drives you closer to release.

You cry his name over and over, the syllables broken between whimpers as your back arches and your cum gushes on to his tongue. He licks it up and swallows it eagerly, and it serves to effectively draw out your orgasm, the sounds you make easily the prettiest he’s ever heard.

You collapse back against his fingers when your high ebbs away, and you feel positively euphoric, every inch of your body buzzing from the pleasure. Changbin waits until you catch your breath again to kiss you, and you bring your hands to his face, holding him close as he shares the taste of your release with you.

He carefully adjusts his hold of you afterwards, cradling you in his arms and laying you against his chest as he rises from his floor bed. “Need to take a bath,” he mumbles to you as you instinctively curl into his embrace. He cringes when he thinks about how much effort it’ll take to clean the mess from his fur and sheath, but he wouldn’t have done anything differently; the night was perfect– you were perfect.

You’re exhausted, but you do your best to help him get clean once you’re done washing yourself, and he covers you with appreciative kisses when the task is done. You giggle from the attention, and Changbin giggles too before he scoops you back into his arms to carry you to bed.

Doing away with the soiled blankets he’ll leave to clean tomorrow, he replaces them with some from the many empty rooms littered about. You’d fallen asleep shortly exiting the bath, and it was a bit challenging for Changbin to fix the bed one handed, but he wasn’t going to set you down onto the cold floor– and you surely would’ve pouted if you woke up without him in reach.

He heaves a heavy sigh once he finally lays down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he rests his own against the many pillows beneath him. He whispers that he loves you before he closes his eyes, and he guesses you were just awake enough to hear it, because you sleepily whisper it back.

It makes him smile, and he squeezes you in his arms just a little. And as he drifts to sleep, he thinks about how lucky he is to have you, how wonderful it is to be loved, how happy he’ll be spending every moment in his life together with you.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

#the fact that it took me so long to finish this that I'm posting it on /my/ birthday instead of bin's is so gsdgsdfh #happy birthday to me ig lmao!#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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blackmoonoracle · 19 days

Text

PICK A CARD - MASCULINE WOUNDS

You can find my brief breakdown of masculine energy in the natal chart here. Tip Jar

PILE 1

tw: sexual trauma

Anger and sex drive, the people in this particular collective may have experienced sexual trauma at any point in time that has developed into an issue with emotional security. In order to heal you need to learn how to develop trust in your perception, self expression, decision making, and any chronic pain or issues need to be given more thought and care. Not accepting the bare minimum, not pushing yourself for the sake of others, not letting others take your power.

Taking your power back for the sake of yourself.

This is an energy of being conscious of chronic issues, extreme trauma, healing from extreme abuse and allowing yourself to let go of the cycle of releasing your power in order to survive. You are not helpless, you are not incapable, you are not weak, you are not bad, you are not a waste of space, energy, words, time, effort, or love. You are a worthy being, you have earned your place, your reputation, your successes, and your desired future. You have suffered a lot, in some way shape or form.

This could've been mental or sexual anguish in pre teen years.

Feeling almost disgusting or gross for existing as a sexual being. Disdain for sex, astonishment I heard as well? I feel like there is potential religious trauma regarding sex in this pile.

There may also be a sense of pain or confusion about life in general, perhaps you are someone who struggles with feeling destined for failure. Like part of you still doesn't believe that you're not destined to suffer, you've learned so much and I feel like a lot of you are like older gen z or late teens.

It feels like you've always felt very judged, and very misinterpreted. Like others could've been offended by your mere presence. Something about the way you thought, or spoke, or expressed yourself was or is very upsetting for people. You're not afraid to talk about the truth? Is the exact way I'm hearing it be described.

You have very powerful voice, and your words pack a punch in more than one way.

Your words project veryyy quickly into your reality, and I heard "reaffirming reality" as well, treating your brain like a science project I heard? LMAO it's giving aquarius 😭

So do mirror affirmations, some of you could have an affinity towards mirror magick. That being said handle that carefully, and know to be careful in approaching that. Make sure you're researching and covering your bases. I heard Aphrodite, so Aphrodite could be trying to work with someone. I also heard keep your peace, so chill out, don't engage with anyone. You're in the process of taking back your power so sometimes people act up. LITERALLY not a you problem, and if they make it a you problem stand your goddamn ground and show that person, no matter who they are, what role they play in your life, that you are under no circumstances going to continue to take their shit. The universe is testing you, lock tf in and don't worry about anyone else. Worry about YOU and YOUR DREAMS, and YOUR DESIRES. Plant the seeds that truly matter to YOU, you won't know if it works until you try it. Don't be afraid to do what you're passionate about. Don't be afraid to be yourself, your authenticity really resonates with others in some way shape or form. It's how you connect with people, you show them that being yourself is a lot less painful that you'd think.

This could be black Moon Lilith in cancer and Scorpio or 4th and 8th house Chiron energy. you could be a cancer rising, some of you could have a leo descendant? I heard polish and German as well for some others, someone could be polish another person could be German. If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

PILE 2

Self Worth, and Value/Honorary Systems This collective has very powerful values. This could be Taurean, or Aquarian energy, possibly also Aries. You could be mars dominant or have a prominent mars in your natal chart. Your mars may also be in the 11th, or 2nd house! Or you could have Uranus in the 2nd house or Venus in the 11th house. Suffice to say this could also be mars in Taurus, or Aquarius as well. 2nd house Venus, or 11th house aquarius. There's something with individualism in this pile as well. A lot of deeply practical energy, possibly very venusian as well. Could have Venus in pisces, or Venus-neptune interactions in the natal chart. You could have Venus in Taurus, or you could have Venus in aries I'm hearing. You are going on a deep journey of transforming your masculine will. Understanding you are worthy of making your creations, that what you create is valuable and is of quality. You are worthy of abundance, you are worthy of success. I feel like there could've been a sense of detachment since a very young age for this pile. It feels like affection could've always been a touchy subject. I'm also seeing a connection to religion here, especially with Venus being in Virgo. Virgo Venus has always reminded me of catholicism due to the very intricate and detail oriented nature of Catholic symbolism. As well as the emphasis on purity, which is an aspect of Virgo. Seeing as it is the virgin. This can also look like your love always coming with deep criticism. Perhaps you could've felt like the ways in which you expressed love were not respected. Or you could've felt like there was a feminine presence that seemed to bring you a great sense of regret. It feels like a self criticism wound. It feels like a disconnection from the mind in order to attain purity. Like, this pile could feel that they need to fully embody some aspect of a pure, or virginesque energy in order to be worthy of recognition?

Soooo specific, but hey! if it resonates it resonates. There's a deep wound here in regard to knowing how to accept help. It's like accepting help in your mind makes you feel like you're worthless, or as if you are not contributing enough. It's like you feel the need to contribute the most, so that others know you are serious and worth taking serious. Being undermined, minimized, having your values be overlooked, or being seen as unremarkable could've been something you struggled deeply with. I see a lot of pain dealing with women here. Significant Mother wounds that could've led to these wounds in your masculinity. Perhaps experiencing silencing, being forced to not do, say, act, or be in some way shape or form because it is "unsightly" or "shameful" Being disregarded, possibly some bullying here, feeling like an outsider. Like no one could grasp your values, your morals, who you TRULY are.

Almost feeling like you lack an identity.

finding balance in yourself, learning how to accept that you are worthy of being helped. That being helped does not make you unworthy, that being helped is something that is okay, that accepting care, and nurturing, and love is a good thing. starving yourself of intimacy in hopes that by taking the lashings of yourself, and others, while remaining in this "pure" state of being will finally make you worthy of being seen. vision is a general thing here. You may feel like your vision doesn't come to light, or that others don't understand your vision. It's unique, it's you, it's not what everyone else might expect of you. You're groundbreaking, no one could ever be you, learning how to be in love with your individuality. Accepting what makes you weird, and accepting yourself in spite of the way others feel. Knowing that accepting yourself is the deepest form of self connection and that you deserve to feel loved and supported.

Accepting that the embodiment of authenticity may cause issues in connections with people who cannot accept themselves or live in their own truth.

Understanding that you can find purity in your search for your authentic self, authentic truth, and your life purpose. Through embodying yourself in your truth.

If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

PILE 3

You may feel stuck in what you were once defined as, as if other people's perceptions of you cut extremely deeply. Your honor is important to you, you like for things to run smoothly. It's important to you to feel secure in who you are and how you express yourself.

I think that, it would be significantly healthy for this pile to learn what makes them feel passionate.

Maybe you feel that you are judged harshly, or in response to a harsh judgmental world you disconnect from yourself. Extreme self consciousness, fear of being "naked" or "vulnerable". Fear of connecting with yourself and others. Fear of relying on or connecting with your community. Feeling like an outcast, impostor syndrome. Lack of self awareness, TOO much self awareness. Untraceable, or difficult to uncover pain. Not understanding the root of things. Beauty that feels skin deep, unrealized depth, and unfulfilled potential. Learning who you are, finding the drive to connect with yourself. Understanding what it means to be you, and that you have to choose yourself at some point in order to lessen suffering. Fear of risk, and Fear of reward, a very loud self critic.

Accepting and acknowledging the mother wound in order to integrate and heal it. Connecting with earth, trusting nature, allowing yourself to think about the things you fear most. Understanding that you cannot hide from certain truths, and that looking the other way doesn't make it go away. There's a song that went viral on TikTok by MGMT called Little Dark Age. I specifically channeled the part that's like "Forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain, just know that if you hide- it doesn't go away."

Having to understand that you are not responsible for other people, you are not Jesus, why do you bare the cross. Why do you punish yourself for not meeting the "standards" that others are projecting onto you. Are they standards, or are they control tactics, is it manipulation? Are you in alignment with YOUR thoughts, feelings, and desires? Or are you taking on the thoughts, feelings, desires, and expectations of others who want to strip you of your individuality?

Transforming your self concept, looking at what traits, qualities, and authentic self expressions are ACTUALLY in alignment with your highest good & will call in passion, success, happiness, and stability into your life?

Being proud of your intelligence, your ability to perceive, to be know how to think outside of the box.

Having a lot of eccentric natured personality traits and understanding that those are attractive to others. That what makes you different is what makes you likeable, because it's what's uniquely you. Embodying your truest self form, writing affirmations. Creating lists and notes of the hard to integrate topics and realizations in order to make them more tangible.

Excessive mental energy, very deeply tapped into divine creative expressions. Having blessed thoughts, words, and ways. Knowing that you deserve your blessings, and that you are a generator of luck and karma. That you have to ability to move mountains.

Taking it less personal when people throw rocks from glass homes, knowing that you are worthy of better, worthy of more, worthy of success. Feeding your hunger to succeed, knowing that you have the skill, knowledge, creative drive, and capability to connect with others through your art and creativity.

Uncovering what beauty means to you?

I heard Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo, PIsces, cancer, Gemini, mercury, Sagittarius, 9th house, 6th and 5th house.

Sun in aquarius, Moon in Taurus/Capricorn, Moon in gemini, Moon in Aries, Moon-mars aspects.

Mother Gaia

Disconnected from ancestors and spirit team, but willing to learn and receive.

Looking for a new outlook, looking for a way out, remaining steadfast and faithful in what you believe.

Not allowing others to dictate your thoughts, feelings, or reality.

Co-Creating with divine consciousness.

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot community #tarot online #tarot reading #japan

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makochi-furin · 2 months

Note

Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).

The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.

Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.

DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES

A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it

WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl

—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)

—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know

—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk

—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it

—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it

—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.

Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.

You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.

Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.

He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.

Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?

You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.

Osamu trusted you.

That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.

You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...

But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...

It was time to tell him.

"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.

Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.

Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.

You felt so small.

He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"

You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.

You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.

"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."

"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"

You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."

You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.

Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.

You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.

"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.

Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.

"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.

You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.

"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.

He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.

Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.

In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.

"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.

—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good

—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there

—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.

—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING

—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it

—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair

—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter

—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."

Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.

He smiled like Mori smiled.

In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.

He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.

Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."

Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.

"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.

"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."

"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.

Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.

Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.

"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.

As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."

—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it

—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft

—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this

—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:

"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."

"Bet."

—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security

—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed

—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.

Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.

"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."

"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.

Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.

"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.

"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."

Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"

That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.

Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.

Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.

Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"

That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.

Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.

"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.

He was knocked out before he could.

When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.

Tanaka screamed.

Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.

"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.

Dazai loved every second of it.

He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.

"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.

"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."

Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.

Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."

"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.

"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"

Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.

"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.

Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.

An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.

Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.

"You up?" he asked, walking closer.

When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.

"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."

Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.

Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."

Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.

"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."

With that, he walked away.

—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you

—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again

—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.

There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.

"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.

"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.

You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."

He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."

"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."

You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.

"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.

"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"

He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.

When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.

"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."

The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.

Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.

You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.

The relief you felt was enough.

"Thank you, Osamu."

—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀

—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao

#dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x you #osamu dazai x you #dazai x you #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #makochi’s hc/scenario mix

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rotthepoet · 12 days

Text

Flowers for You (M.R x Reader)

Note; My IRL bestie asked me to write something like this, and this was the moment I realized I indoctrinated her into my new life lmao

Warnings; FLUFF, YEARNING, HEAD OVER HEELS MATTHEO

Mattheo hated spring. This time of year was always so awfully colorful. It was always unbearably hot or unbearably cold. His nose ran with allergies, and no matter what he took, he couldn't help the insufferable sneezes from pollen in the breeze. He couldn’t walk outside for a break without having petals from the blooming trees out in the courtyard. He truly despised the season. Until he met you.

Oh such a lovely creature, a smile as warm as the new sun, eyes as colorful as the new flora blooming in the forbidden forest. You walked with the grace of a breeze and he, like a leaf, floated after you in your wake. Your sunlight smile, how it melted his frozen over heart. You were ethereal, his eyes never drifting far from your floating form.

Despite the sniffles he knew he was doomed to suffer through, Mattheo sat out in the grass with you. You showed him how to intricately weave flower stems together into crowns, even if he wasn’t good at it. In fact, he was so bad at it that you opted to take his fallen flowers and wrap them into a bouquet. You pluck a flower and slip one white daisy behind his ear, patting his cheek as you pull away.

“It brings out your eyes.”

Your words were bird songs in the sunrise.

Or maybe he was just irrevocably whipped.

Of course, Mattheo would never remove the flower now. It would need to rot off of his body before he would even consider tossing it away. Maybe he should put a charm on it so it never wilts. Or perhaps he could encase it in resin to hang on his wall. He couldn’t think of a time he had been given flowers, that tended to be a girl gift, but this… this changes everything.

Mattheo couldn’t be bothered with the stares he received in the hallways, Potter(surrounded by his gang, naturally) made a snide comment about it, but it floated right in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t until Blaise looked up from the textbook he was skimming through, perturbed by a ludicrously joyus Riddle(The Riddles had a knack for angst, seeing one beaming surely meant the world was ending.), that Mattheo finally stopped in his tracks.

“The hell are you wearing, Mate?”

It wasn’t that Zabini was disgusted by the flower adornment, but that he was genuinely curious of his friend's new stylistic choices.

Mattheo couldn’t even wipe the smile across his cheeks away, his mind permanently circling and circling around the wonderful idea that is you.

Mattheo hated the spring. The grass was seemingly 12x itchier in the life filled month, each blade of evergreen housing a different bug-enemy. The water was still too cold to swim in, but it was too hot outside to enjoy anything. Care of Magical Creatures class had become exponentially more annoying, girls are cooing over the new arrival of baby animals, pulling cuddly creatures into their laps, their giggles ringing incessantly in his ears. Not you, oh no, he could pinpoint your laughter in the world's loudest room. He always found his eyes drawn to your smile, your heaving chest as you catch your breath. Mattheo hated spring. He hated the color, the weather, the allergies, the trees, the grass, the bugs, the water, the baby animals. He hated it all, but oh how you loved the spring, and oh how he loved you.

#rot says so #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x reader fluff #mattheo riddle

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jennifer-jeong · 7 months

Note

Hi there :)

Can I request some headcanons about Xiao and Wanderer (separated) with an old s/o? Like, they've been together for decades, but reader is a mortal and they're not, therefore they don't have many years left to live now that they're in their 80s. I would like something sweet but feel free to add some angst in it.

HI ANON TY FOR YOUR ASK! Ok so I’m literally goiNG TO CRY because I actually purposely make my own self insert immortal because this makes me so depressed but dw I will make it a fluffy happy ending. I would be unwell if I didn’t make it a happy ending LMAO

Fluff + Slight Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x Reader Mortals

CONTENT Fluff, some angst, gender neutral reader, HAPPY ENDING WOO, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

XIAO has been alive for longer than he can genuinely remember and most of it was spent suffering alone. He’s scarred so deeply that even until the end of time, the marks will never fade. He can’t get rid of his past but you came along and he realized he could at least start to heal from the centuries of pain. Your time together has been the best years of his life and it makes his heart ache to think that you’re about to come and go before even living for a fraction of his life. He’s watched your mortal body age but he still thinks knows that you’re the prettiest thing he’ll ever encounter. Xiao has always treated his time with you like it was limited, even when you were younger. He’s been getting desperate recently though, your body has slowed down, and you’re well into your elderly years. He’s always wanted to ask you if he and Zhongli could help you with this, return you to your younger body and help you live forever. But, he thought it would hurt you. Immortality is more of a curse than a blessing and he of all people should know that. But as your health deteriorated, he started to plan how to ask you without pressuring you. Honestly, when he finally brought it up, you giggled at him and said “I didn’t even know you could do that.” He blinked as he realized how much time had passed and how he really had been avoiding it all these years. It was just somewhat unfathomable to a 2000 year old being that all these fun years with you had already been a few decades. He explains why he felt bad suggesting it, but you quickly comforted him and thanked him for even bringing it up. You said you needed some time to think about it but you knew that you wanted more time with your beloved. It’s near impossible for most people to find their soulmate and so since you found yours, you wanted to somewhat selfishly hold onto him as long as you could. Of course he secretly felt the same though. Your time together might end soon as the traveller discovers the underlying mysteries of the world or it could end millenia later. Either way, you knew you’d be able to face it, together.

WANDERER has been through so much over the past few centuries of his life and he’s believed his emotions have been so useless to him as he isn’t even human. His suffering, pain, and desire never made sense because he always lacked a heart. He thought he’d be doomed to this forever until he met you. You breathed life into his mechanical body and into his new anemo vision heart. He felt truly alive with you, it was like he was freshly born as a real man when you came into his life. He took a while to properly warm up to you before he could express himself in a healthy way but you always had the patience for him. The problem was that he couldn’t have the same patience, not because he wasn’t a healthy partner, but because your life had a definite end. He was impatient because he couldn’t lose you and he didn’t know what else to do. He consulted Nahida/his mom about it and she suggested using his body as a template to create a body for you. One that would last forever with him. He was immediately overjoyed to hear that there was hope and he almost forgot to consider that you might not want to live forever. He probably tries to gauge if you would want to by prodding you with small questions but you see straight through him. You know something’s up, and you tell him that you know there’s enough trust between you two for either of you to speak freely. So he does. You take some time to debate it and decide to do it because even if at some point you can’t take it, you’d talk to him about it and come up with a solution (but you doubt that'll come up <3). There was a lot going on in Teyvat at the moment but just knowing that you’d have more time gave both of you peace. He was worried that afterwards you might not be the same, and that you might become emotionally hollow. But you knew that with him there, you’d never feel any less alive. Even without your physical body, you both had your souls, and it was all you’d ever need.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact fluff #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #xiao angst #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer angst #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #j's silly ramblings #j's asks

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hwanchaesong · 4 months

Text

━⁠☞🍽️ Fifth Course: Watching his delish life in pictures comes with a sense of dread. Isn't it vexing that he's living the life while you're out there vomiting in pungent public restrooms? 🥢

🎧: Olivia Rodrigo - Good 4 U

wc: 543

genre & warnings: angst like yn is really mad lmao, nonidol!san, yn is drunk af, mentions of alcohol and drinking, cursing, lovers to exes, betrayal, mentions of vomit etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Sour Restaurant series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Y/N, you really should stop drinking excessively y-"

"Shut the fuck up!" you slurred, slumping on the wall of your bathroom and glaring at your ex whom your friends did the honor of calling to get you home safely.

San sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he's had enough of your childish antics. You two have already broken up a few months ago so really, you are not supposed to be his responsibility.

Still, he's not that merciless. He can't just allow you to go home by yourself where potential danger could get you killed. Unless your liver suddenly decides to give up on you.

His kindness does nothing but to further aggregate you, though.

No, not kindness. Consideration.

Yes, that's the right word.

It infuriates you to no end that even in the middle of the night, he comes running to the bar and picks you up to get you to your apartment in one piece.

But what you hated more is seeing him in a state of good life.

After all the shit he's put you through. You're here still suffering the repercussions of his actions while he's out there being happy and lovey-dovey with your former best friend.

Truly a vomit-inducing situation even without the help of alcohol.

Imagine, back then, if you would have known that they'd get together after he dumped you for no reason then you wouldn't have trusted them.

Fucking hell.

It did you no good to remember that shitty place that you promised not to visit ever again. But life ain't that easy, because if it is, then you'd be rich and happily married to the love of your life.

You were snapped out of your maddening stupor when his phone rang, not paying attention as he excused himself and chose to fixate your gaze on the crack of your bathroom floor.

Then again, sometimes, you hear bullshit when you don't need it the most.

He's talking to her. In your house. In a very loving voice. The same tone that he used to utilize whenever he speaks with you, now reserved for someone else.

"Yes baby, I'll be home in a while, okay? Okay. I'll see you later. I love you so much."

Disgusting, vile creatures that are incapable of feeling guilt. Oh, how you wish you could just strike them with thunder so they can finally go to hell, where they can burn together.

"Y/N I will h-"

"Get out here." you mumble lowly, standing up from your position and he frowns.

"What's your problem?" he asks, confused as to why you're acting sober and gloomy.

You laugh weakly, coming closer to him only to push him out of the bathroom, "My problem is none of your business. So, get the hell out of my apartment and do not ever, fucking ever show your face to me again."

You did not give him the chance to reply as you shut the door on his face, your whole body flopping on the cold tiles.

Soon enough, you heard the main door of your apartment close and you can't help but chuckle despite the tears streaming down your face.

It really is not difficult for him to leave you after all.

taglist:

@acciocriativity @iarayara @stolasisyourparent @xdannix @nsixns @heartssol @vixensss @shakalakaboomboo

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shubblelive · 1 year

Text

— FRIENDLY COMPETITION

summary : you and tommy have been dating for months, and there's a million things you love about him. however, you're usually not doing that in front of your entire audience. but after a surprising mcc debut, what's one more good thing?

genre : fluff

warnings: mentions of reader breaking a bone as a kid

pairing : cc!tommyinnit x fem!cc!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is tommy's girlfriend

featuring : cc!tommyinnit, cc!philza (mentioned), cc!smajor (mentioned), cc!shubble (mentioned), cc!orionsound (mentioned)

request : I was wondering if you could do a fic where y/n (with fem pronouns) is a streamer and wins her fist mcc and when she wins Tommy comes into her room and is so excited that she won that forgets they hadnt told the internet they were dating and kisses her <3

word count : 1.1k

note : i love writing for tommy so much but unfortunately i don't get a lot of ideas, so whenever i get reqs for him i get super excited. for context, i wrote this around mcc 26 because it's my favourite (i KNOW it's almost a year old at this point, like i said it's my favourite). reader replaces fruitberries on the violet vampires team, he won that mcc with phil, oli and shelby, so you can probably tell why it's my favourite lmao but also i feel like tommy would call you girlfriend in place of a petname, i think it's cute. i hope you enjoy angel <333

When you were six, you broke your wrist. You and a group of your classmates had been out at lunch in the playground, engaged in an intense monkey bars contest when you fell. You didn’t remember much, the ambulance ride to A&E, maybe. Being comforted in your hospital bed as you awaited X-ray results with cuddles and cookies, definitely. Not a lot of pain, not a lot of suffering. You never got back on the monkey bars after that though. Competing with the other kids just felt like a bad idea after that. You learned to run your own race, and you’d been living like that for over a decade.

Your left hand twinged, aching slightly. Maybe it was that the bones never realigned on your wrist, but it was most likely due to the intense keyboard-pressing you’d been doing for the last five hours. You weren’t big on MCC, you were a builder rather than a combative player, and that suited you just fine. You tuned in once a month, sure, but that was mainly to support. You and Tommy had been dating for eight whole MCCs now, and he’d been the one to encourage you to apply.

Your shooting skills were… fine. You knew how to play the game, of course, you’d been playing it for over half your life. You just didn’t do much of it recently, hence the two hour practice you’d taken before the start of the event. The first game had been Parkour Warrior, which happened to be your best. The early confidence boost (combined with the encouraging messages you and Tommy had been exchanging on Discord between each event, unbeknownst to your chats) had helped you - you’d come in second overall. But by the fifth game your team wasn’t even in the top 5. You were nervous, worried about letting your team down but, as Phil rightfully pointed out you had “did the best out of all of us, dude.” You’d been really lucky with your team. Everyone on it was someone you knew at least vaguely. You’d spoken to Phil a bunch since starting your relationship with Tommy, and he’d been a big help. Shelby and Oli, your other two teammates were both complete sweethearts and you’d loosened up massively since the beginning of the event.

Things picked up after SkyBattle, and no one in your chat even noticed when you and Tommy took breaks at the same time (two waterbottle refills and a reassuring kiss that had you on your A-Game for the last hour and a half of the event).

And then came DodgeBolt.

Your shooting skills were fine. Truly, but your entire team getting killed in less than five minutes leaving you and Scott in the arena alone. You were silent, focusing too hard on not dying to even think about addressing your chat. Phil was murmuring encouragement into the VC that you were actively tuning out in an attempt to concentrate. Tommy was sitting at his desk three rooms away, quiet as a mouse. He hadn’t moved in so long that his chat had started spamming lag. He had been trying not to be too obvious about it, but it was you versus the manager of the event engaged in a 1v1 for your first time in the contest. Your hand was cramping and you were biting the inside of your cheek so hard it was painful, but you had an arrow and a shot. Scott had an arrow as well, and you knew that if you left it any longer he’d get you, so you let your instincts take over and let it go.

VIOLET VAMPIRES TAKE THE CROWN!

Shelby was screaming in the VC before you could comprehend what had just happened, and before you could even move arms were around you. Your office door had swung open as your golden retriever of a boyfriend all but lifted you out of your chair, pressing a proud kiss to your lips.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, face hidden in the blue fabric of his shirt. “I won?”

“You won!” Tommy was yelling, grin taking over his face.

You let out a squeal of delight as you kissed the corner of his mouth in return, your temple being peppered with supportive kisses. “I won! Chat, oh my god-” You turned back towards your stream and were suddenly struck with the fact that you were, in fact, broadcasting this live. “Chat. Oh my god.”

Tommy was suddenly very still. You did a double take between your monitor, chat zipping past so fast it was making your head spin, and your boyfriend. You had about three seconds to make a move before it was awkward and you already knew that the cat was out of the bag. You’d be trending on twitter within an hour if you weren’t already.

“Chat, I won!” You turned back to Tommy, wrapping your arms around his neck. Tommy was stiff, but you pressed a kiss to his jawline, right below his ear, out of frame of your camera. “We’re okay, boyfriend,” your voice was soft as you held him, his hands coming up on your back, squeezing you tightly.

That snapped him out of it, and suddenly the two of you were back to screaming. “I’m so proud of you,” you were swaying on the spot, you gazing past his arm to your monitor, evidence of your win right there on your screen.

“I love you,” he kissed your hairline. “Girlfriend.”

He had to get back to his chat eventually and you needed to get back in the VC with the rest of your team members, exchanging congratulations. You hung around on the server for another twenty minutes before excusing yourself and finishing up the stream. You and Tommy had both silently agreed to not address what had happened and you reconvened in the hallway half an hour after the end of the event. Sitting on the sofa, you pulled out your phone and were immediately introduced to the downside of having a famous boyfriend. His full weight was put on your, your phone slipping out of your grasp and between the couch cushions. He mumbled into your neck. “No twitter. Don’t care.”

Your hands delved into his curls as he closed his eyes. “But-”

He lifted his head off your chest to glare at you and you missed the weight. “Fine. But you’re ordering me dinner after my spectacular win.”

He laughed, rumble of his chest spreading warmly throughout your entire body. “You don’t even need your phone, see. You’ve got me, and don’t worry, yes I called the papers to tell them how well you did. Being a girlfriend gets you perks.”

“Being a boyfriend gets you perks, too.” You point out.

Tommy lifted his head again, only slightly, eyebrows raised. You kissed him one more time and he nodded, content. “I think maybe I win, actually.”

#tommay tommyinnit fluff #tommyinnit x y/n #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit headcanons #tommyinnit x reader fluff #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit fluff

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bluev0id · 2 months

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PICK A PILE LOVE MESSAGE

Besties, I am suffering from the worst limerence of my life, I can't even sleep lmao pls manifest this gorgeous man to not be scared of dating me asdfgg I'm channeling all that intense energy into this reading. Pick a photo and see the results!

💕 Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop 💕

1. White, Pink & Saint Mary pendant

You crave love, and you're ready to go after it, whether it's by finding a new partner or working on a current relationship. You desire action and excitement, playfulness, however lately things might not have been going your way, and you're left feeling defeated. The message you need to hear is that you shouldn't give up on what you desire even if others might think differently or you've been left empty-handed for now. However, if you're facing a partner that leaves all the hard work on you and expects you to be the driving force, stand up for your boundaries and make sure you're not being overwhelmed. Move away from whatever negativity is holding you back from living your truth. Understand yourself on a deeper level and don't pity yourself for your past experiences. Good things are waiting for you!!!

💕 Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop 💕

• ° ~ ♡ ~ ° •

2. Purple, Light Pink & White pendant

There's a deep connection either already in your life or it will start forming in the near future. It's karmic, and it's mature, or at least you'll come out of it a lot more mature than you are now. I see two strong-willed people having their own truth and both wanting to connect yet not being able to allow that necessary vulnerability to shine through, but there's a big potential for something prosperous here. You need to open your eyes. You're smart, you're capable and independent, however, the skills and personality traits that are needed to love and feel another persons soul are quite different. You need to soften up. Even if not for the other persons sake but for your own, just to explore yourself in private. Whatever the situation is, it's not unsolvable. Reconnect with what you truly want here- to keep your powerful image or to form a deep connection.

💕 Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop 💕

• ° ~ ♡ ~ ° •

3. Red & two Green pendants

Somethings gone wrong... Did you let someone get away, or did you leave too fast, and now you regret it? Perhaps you wanted something beautiful from a connection, but it ended up hurting you instead. You need to move away from that loss. You can't turn back time and do all the right things this time. Instead, channel that energy into something new. If you still think there's hope for you and that person, you do have the power to fix things in the future if you let go of the hurt you're holding on to and open your heart for a new beginning. If you'd rather have a new beginning with someone else, you have the power to obtain that as well. You should believe in yourself more and stop pondering about the past.

💕 Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop 💕

• ° ~ ♡ ~ ° •

4. Black and Smiling pendant

Try again. Come on, put yourself out there and try again. You might feel awkward, like dating makes you pretend to be someone you're not or you find it hard to show yourself to new people, don't know where to start and how to act. But in reality, despite all of the anxiety you feel or bad experiences you've had before, you want to be loved and having a beautiful relationship is one of the things in life you crave the most. I'd even say that it is one of the most important aspects in your current lifetime, a major part of your destiny in this reincarnation. And if so, then it will come to you because what's meant to be, will happen and you can't escape it. All you have to do is take one step at a time and you'll get there one day.

💕Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop💕

• ° ~ ♡ ~ ° •

5. Blue, Green & Brown pendant

There is someone wonderful in your life, or they might soon appear, it could also be multiple people who are craving your attention and love. Don't lose this opportunity, don't lose that person or the chances to experience love and beauty just because you don't know what to do, what is right or because you're too focused on yourself. You want this, so why are you letting it pass by? Loving someone won't make you less independent or waste the time you could have been focusing on your career. And if you make mistakes along the way with this connection, that is a part of being human. You're smart, you'll know how to deal with it. Live life a little more, rush even if you're used to moving steady.

💕Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop💕

• ° ~ ♡ ~ ° •

6. Black and two Brown pendants

You're stuck, don't know what to do or how to go about love. One message I'm hearing is that there might be someone who can give you good advice in terms of love and relationships in your life. If you feel like your perception of these things is twisted due to trauma or mental illness, you might even want to talk to a therapist or perhaps watch educational videos about relationships on YouTube, read a book. If you feel like you don't have the time for relationships because of a busy schedule or other priorities then you reading this is already an enough of a sign that you crave love and wish it could be a bigger part of your life. There are ways you can find time for it, just put effort into finding them.

💕Please check out my jewelry on my ETSY (link) shop💕

• ° ~ ♡ ~ ° •

#free tarot reading #free readings #free tarot readings #divination #tarot game #spirituality #pick a card #pick a pile #love reading #love advice

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chu-diaries · 2 months

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100 days of mental healthcare: day 76/100

Another day where I failed on exercising, but everything was all so rushed that I'll forgive myself for it. Today I had to cook and I also had a long intravenous iron replacement session. On the bright side, I read several chapters of my book and made friends with two nurses during the procedure. The day was so beautiful that I walked to and from the clinic. When I got home, I checked on my scented candles, did dishes, folded my clean laundry and got ready for my evening class. I got home very tired, but happy for another good day.

Answering 8/30 self-knowledge questions about myself: What have I learned from my greatest difficulties?

My greatest difficulties didn't appear until I was 25. Of course, there were difficulties before that, but it was at 25 that I finally learned that a mental illness can hurt much more than a physical injury or a broken heart. Until then, society had taught me to deal with all my problems, but I wasn't prepared to suffer so much inside my own head. After three and a half years of struggling with this, I learned that I am very strong. It's amazing to look back and see everything I've overcome. I am definitely very powerful and greater than my fears (I'm working on trusting this statement lmao). I learned that I don’t need much to be happy and that happiness is not in achievements or titles, but in the things that keep us alive every day. I also discovered that staying alive is a daily job: you gotta find a reason to keep going every day. Remember why you want to stay here, what you want to accomplish and what you already have today. Life is lived one day at a time. It doesn't matter who you were or where you came from, but who you are now and what's in your heart. When I was younger I thought all of this was very silly, but now I truly believe it.

🥀: day 23/28

💧: 2 L

🏃🏻‍♀️: 9178 steps

💃🏻: dancing (30 min)

📝: worked on two new contracts

📖: I attended a class on the migration of workers from the northeast to the southeast (3h)

🇰🇷: 🚫

🎧: stardew valley ost

🎮: 🚫

📺: one piece ep. 456-463 (I was peacefully preparing some meatballs for lunch when I discovered who is Ace’s father… somebody send help)

📚: hp and the half-blood prince (I had forgotten how amazing Ginny is in this book… my inner teenager is screaming at her romance with Harry)

🛑: 3 days pick-free

💊: I took all my vitamins + 3/5 sessions of IV iron replacement done

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

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The Owner Who Broke The Leash (Yandere!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

a/n: this is a chainsaw man au but I tried writing it so that you don't need to be an anime/manga reader (suffer with me.) I'm not 100% following the source material, so Beidou and Kazuha are platonic & no mother-child themes the orig has people debate over. I won't be explaining the latter to those who did not understand lmao. (Y/n)'s 20 years old. This is just a yandere fic, relax hehe. also, huge shoutout to @navxry for beta reading, their insights were helpfull!!! and also shoutout because honestly nothing is more fulfulling like seeing a live commentary of roasting the yanderes and for some reason, my husband too sorry dain-

cw: yandere themes and degrading nicknames ("dog"), and dont read while eating ig?

unreliable synopsis: "Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"

Kamisato Ayato questioned whether he had a heart in his head because, on occasion, it beats louder than the one cradled by his ribs. Or perhaps he's just grown incredibly susceptible to human emotions– or in this scenario: "headaches." Then again, in a world where 7 out of every 20 Inazuman citizens are killed by Devils in a concerningly short duration, is it really surprising that Ayato would experience such distress?

The Public Safety Devil Hunters have often questioned their limits throughout the years. Many of them have hardened themselves into pawns who seek glorified kinds of justice and retribution with the limited and declining manpower they have. As a result, they needed people like Kamisato Ayato, a mystifying man who presented himself as a gregarious yet reticent individual regarded either with respect or distaste.

Only a few people have gone insane, which he and the captain of Division 4, Dainsleif, considered to be regrettable. They both had a strong conviction that complete sanity was inappropriate for a devil hunter. The rational and sensible are not in demand in this profession. Only those who have lost their sense of humanity can remain alive with their limbs intact. Many disputed Dainsleif's claims, questioning how could they be true. And to this, he answered:

"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"

Unfortunately, not many people understood the significance of that puzzling question, and even if they did, they rejected this way of thinking. Losing one's sanity is equivalent to losing what kept many alive–

And then…

There's (Y/n).

"Holy shiiiiiit!!!" (Y/n) spat out with their mouth full as they gouged the poor leftover traces of udon from the bowl, fully savoring what drops can be salvaged. They tilted their wrist and licked the remaining noodles, which made Mr. Kamisato's associates raise an eyebrow. Their unbrushed hair would sometimes cover their eyes, making them appear more monstrous and feral.

That was enough to know that in an instant, (Y/n) was endowed with a life that was blessed— at least, in physiological matters.

Despite their disheveled clothes and messy hair, anyone would've mistaken them for a somewhat functional human being. Ayato was quite pleased to dress them up after finding them bloodied and dazed. Not that the zombie devil was ever considered a formidable foe, but seeing the Chainsaw Devil in action is enough grounds for fascination, yes?

The Chainsaw Devil… What name does his "family" go by nowadays? What does the "Fixer of Hell" do around this era?

And why did he form a contract with this… mess of a human being? Why did the Chainsaw Devil agree to become this person's heart replacement?

Why didn't the devil let them perish?

Kamisato Ayato has been dying to know–

"Is this what you devil hunters eat every day?" (Y/n) gawked at him, who was snapped back to reality by their childlike antics. "Seems pretty fucking worth it to me. Those jackasses must be ripping me off if I did the same work for less than, what, two eighty percent? I don't know jack-shit about math, though. Unless it's about calculating debt."

"Is that right?"

When (Y/n) eliminated the Zombie Devil, the public safety officer was able to locate the "dog" in person. Fortunately, he just so happened to know that there was a devil in the vicinity and saw (Y/n) covered in blood. Surely, finding out that the Chainsaw Devil became (Y/n)'s heart via a contract was a mere coincidence in Mr. Kamisato's perspective. He's a cunning being, but not omnipotent, yes?

"Duh," their nose scrunched. "Gotta pay my dead dad's debt somehow. The sins of the Father are the sins of the... I forgot the rest of the line."

"Hmm."

To say (Y/n) is the… most entertaining person is the understatement of the decade. They exude none of the dignity of an ordinary civilian when bringing up their lack of rudimentary mathematical abilities and literary knowledge. Like a child who was isolated in their room for so long, (Y/n) was the type of clumsily put-together person you wouldn't expect to pique Ayato's interest.

Yet here he is, answering them with something far from a business smile.

Ayato was entertained by their awkwardly talkative behavior and flushed cheeks.

(Y/n) has a crush on him. He's certain.

He can make use of that.

"We take care of our workers, yes," Ayato smoothly replied. His gaze did not falter away from the more-than-exploited hybrid. Hidden behind his stare was an obsession he had yet to add a label to. There's a strangely human urge for him to wipe the stray noodle off their chin.

They failed to see his soft gaze and continued to mindlessly ask nonsensical questions.

"P-Peanut butter and jelly too?"

"If they so desired it. I do not see why they cannot afford to buy some with their paycheck."

"Woah."

They looked incredibly amazed, if not, pathetically deprived. It made Ayato even more curious– just what life was this poor dog living if they craved incredibly simple joys?

And… peanut butter? Was that ever considered peak luxury? What a miserable life. Dead mother, murdered father– and a poor heart condition to match. He'll never consider their living conditions humane.

"Dog," Ayato thought to himself. "Positively a dog."

So faithful. So easily handled.

Just as the Public Safety Devil Hunter had hoped for.

Humans are strange creatures and even more challenging to please. Ayato noticed that people attract others when they're unfortunate yet not far enough where they're "beyond saving". Balancing that fine line is a hindrance. Humans strive for authenticity but retreat when it causes discomfort— running away from the empty or broken bits that reflect their innermost selfish beliefs. These people will probe for trauma and unfavorable emotions to relate to, but won't exert control to change or challenge the speaker.

They want a "palatable" story– a "marketable" person.

Kamisato Ayato didn't enjoy how hypocritical humanity is. Perhaps that's why he connected with (Y/n) instantaneously.

Because (Y/n) was no longer human.

They're a devil-human hybrid. There's nothing for (Y/n) to mask, and most importantly, they're so damn easy to please.

Ayato glanced at his wristwatch.

It's nearly time for tea with his fellow commissioners.

He closed his eyes and sighed softly. There was no latent vitriolic expression on his face, but that did not mean Ayato cared for his colleagues deeply.

They're all dogs in his eyes.

"Let us depart, (Y/n)."

And (Y/n) might be the best one yet.

Mr. Kamisato stood up and ruffled their hair.

"Come. Be a good dog and perhaps I'll spoil you with as many treats as you desire."

—-------------------

"Holy shit…" (Y/n) muttered to themselves.

"Today, I'm going to experience my first kiss ever…"

"Oh, a kiss you say?"

"M-Mister Kamisato?!"

It's been a while since Mr. Kamisato saw (Y/n), and they exude a brighter aura than before.

He's not pretentious enough to say (Y/n) had grown so much since he last saw them. There are qualities to them (he wouldn't say redeemable) that Ayato was certain weren't there in the past. After assigning them as Kaedehara Kazuha's subordinate and roommate, (Y/n) rehabilitated to the norms of public safety devil hunters. There were some setbacks, including the time they refused to kill a devil because they were naive enough to consider them as friends. But here they were, inside a busy restaurant after a month of dispatching (Y/n) to their new job– new life.

And won't you look at that?

Ayato's gaze softened as it sank in how much his influence had changed them over the months.

They… look radiant, don't they?

(Y/n) stood up, shocked that the refined public safety officer would be joining them. No one told them that he was invited. The rest of Division 4 followed suit, extending their pleasantries to their superior. The only exception was Beidou, who spoke nothing as she continued chugging her beer. Ayato greeted them and gracefully slipped away from his black cloak and placed it on the chair.

They remained standing until Ayato reached out and ruffled their hair.

"Sit."

And so they did.

Mr. Kamisato's grin widened.

"Good dog." He said.

…

Good dog…?

For a moment, the world was on mute for Mr. Kamisato.

And in that personal silence, he pondered to himself:

Why does he care so much about a dog?

It matters not since they will always remain a dog in his eyes. The day he stops calling them a dog and treating them as one is the day he'll forget about the "Fixer of Hell."

"(Y/n)..."

Ayato turned to look at the woman who moaned.

Beidou was one of his favorite dog's new coworkers alongside Kazuha, Kaveh, Al Haitham, the blood-fiend Arataki "Numero Uno" Itto, and the rest. Unlike the aforementioned four, Beidou often regarded Ayato as a "manipulative bastard" while her long-time partner, Kazuha, felt that there is a certain level of melancholy about him that they repeatedly failed to comprehend. Kazuha had a better sense of the world than his dear old eye-patched friend, but even he finds Ayato unpredictable.

Ayato doesn't mind her hostility and their wariness, not when they took great care of his pet on their latest mission.

Yet, he's holding back a glare.

"(Y/nnnnnn)..."

He doesn't appreciate the way her hand repeatedly traveled down his dog's thigh.

"H-Hey, you're d-drunk–" (Y/n) kept "discreetly" glancing at Ayato, worried. "Q-Quit it! Y-You're making me uncomfortable, man–"

"Shhhhh!" Beidou hushed in a low and seductive tone.

"Just wait, (Y/n), I give better kisses when I'm far from sober."

Ayato's eye twitched.

How intriguing.

"W-WH-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!!–"

"Your reward for killing the Eternity Devil, you scallywag~" She hiccupped, red-faced. "Kiss, with tongue, re-mem-ber?"

Mr. Kamisato closed his eyes, clenching his fists beneath the table as his colleagues drank and ate to their hearts' content. She's drunk. She'll likely regret those words tomorrow.

For a moment, he wished he could drown himself in Kaveh's talks about wearing his father's hand-me-downs or staying in Public Safety for the paycheck. Or maybe hone in on how Itto kept adding zeros to his IQ when asked.

But his whole being was focused on this peculiar conversation.

Suppose a lonesome dog will latch on to any attention it will get.

"K-Kiss…" (Y/n) squeaked.

Don't be so overjoyed.

Ayato desperately wanted to say.

Can't you tell that between the two of us, it's me who you would choose in a heartbeat?

"Who's kissing who now?" Ayato raised his hand, calling for the waiter while staring at the morally conflicted (Y/n). "A glass, please."

(Y/n) paused, not looking at both Ayato and Beidou. They were deep in thought, assessing the situation as though it was their most life-threatening moment.

Good.

They perked up again, somewhat sweating.

"U-Uh, Mr. Kamisato! H-Have you heard? I found an important metal-piece thing and grabbed it!"

Ayato no longer held back a defeated sigh and clenched his fists under the table.

… Disappointing.

So they have chosen to ignore his confrontation instead of turning down Beidou's advances. Shame. Ayato's face contorted, but no one noticed his dismay other than Kaveh, who did not know what to make of it at the time.

"Yes, I have, and what fine news it was indeed. Excellent work. Oh, to have been a fly in the wall..."

Seeing as that "piques" his interest, Kazuha leaned his elbows on the table.

"While we're on the topic, Mister Kamisato…"

Kazuha proceeded to add more to the subject, calmly stating all the information and inferences the group had acquired after the last mission. The "metal-piece" thing (Y/n) found was a portion of the Gun Devil, and Kazuha blabbered about how it appeared that (Y/n) had been targeted by many devils.

"–somehow (Y/n) is at the crux of everything. You know something that we do not, right Mister Kamisato?"

It's only natural for Kazuha to act this way. (Y/n) had no formal training yet fought the Eternity Devil for three days without rest. They had even utilized the Chainsaw Devil's ("Thoma" was its new name) power to torture them nonstop. Devils regenerate by drinking blood so they grained the Eternity devil regularly, yelling and taunting it like a maniac. So in Kazuha's conclusion, (Y/n) was not only stranger than they suppose; they are stranger than they can suppose.

Division 4's and Ayato's main objective is to hunt this "Gun Devil", but there's no need to mind such trifles. At least Makoto is dead. That's one battle won.

Ayato gazed at Kazuha, then his drink.

"What an interesting notion. How about a game?" Ayato placed a finger on his lip. "What do they call this… was it called hot pot? Hmm… No matter."

"The mechanics of the game is to outdrink your opponent," Ayato smiled. "Will you accept this duel?"

As if on time, Beidou placed her empty glass down, making Kazuha just a bit more confident to take the risk. Kazuha nodded.

"Excuse me! Two sakes, please!"

Beidou, who would've normally banned Kazuha from drinking because of his height and not his adult age, yelled on top of her tops.

"HE-HE-HEYYY!!! MAKE IT THREEEE!!! I'LL PLAY THE DAMN GAME TOO!!!"

"MORE SASHIMI!!! THERE BETTER NOT BE A BEAN MIXED IN THERE!!!" Itto demanded soon after.

"I-I'd take a plate of sweet potatoes and cheese, please!" Kaveh humbly requested, fixing his red hairclips.

"HEY WAIT, ME TOO!!! MORE TEMPURA TOO!!!" (Y/n) followed, causing Al Haitham to cover his ears.

Ayato smirked, drinking his mug. He already knows how this will end.

—--------------

Just a few drinks in, Kazuha proved his humanity by slowly fluttering his eyes to sleep.

Both Kazuha and Beidou failed to defeat Ayato in his game, albeit the latter wasn't trying their best. The others lost focus on the match when they knew Ayato had secured victory the moment he gave the mechanics. It's hopeless. Even a newbie such as the salt-and-pepper haired man knew it was a battle whose result had long been decided.

"Excuse me, sir," Ayato smiled, smug. "May I have another drink, please?"

Mr. Kamisato retrieved his umpteenth beer, eager to take a sip but as soon as he had it in his hands, that woman chimed in again.

She kissed them.

…

"... Goodness," Ayato muttered emptily.

That bold woman kissed what's his.

Ayato shook his head slightly, drinking his glass with a malicious glint in his eyes. As that woman aggressively thrust her tongue inside (Y/n)'s mouth, his dog shook, peering over the unimpressed Mr. Kamisato. He made it known to them that he was not pleased by this front-row display of "affection", but (Y/n) made little effort to stop it. He heard her moan and scrutinized the way she yanked their collar to deepen the "kiss", closing all distance between them.

He could've sworn the mug cracked a bit so he loosened his hold. Mr. Kamisato had felt another "headache" settling in as he watched that filth violate his pet with perverse pleasure. He snarled quietly.

What a low-quality "treat".

"Is this what you call a reward?" Ayato muttered.

She must taste horrible.

His (Y/n) must feel horrible.

Surely they wouldn't enjoy being taken by another person?

Yet they're melting in her arms.

Ayato scoffed.

What an unpleasant sight.

He felt... unsettled and restless.

Suddenly, they pulled away. Ayato was almost impressed (relieved) until he saw the reason behind (Y/n)'s distress. That kiss was disgusting, and everyone at that table will reasonably agree on that after seeing what had happened to (Y/n).

"HAHAHAHAHA!" The blood fiend laughed heartily. "IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!! IT'S IN THEIR MOUTH!!!"

That disgusting acidic liquid…

Itto elbowed Al Haitham beside him.

"AND YA BOYS KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ANYTHING NUTRITIOUS GETS INSIDE (Y/N)'S MOUTH?!?"

Mr. Kamisato stood up and immediately pulled (Y/n) away from Beidou, pampering their lips with tissues and scrubbing the remains of that wench. His eyes sharpened as (Y/n) leaned into his touch, trembling while grabbing his white dress shirt. Ayato ignored how he would've normally felt a twinge of disgust over the stains they left on his clothes and gently cradled them; his focus now aimed at Beidou– disregarding how the other members laughed or visibly shivered at the sight.

… it's puke.

"THEY SWALLOW IT!!!"

Ayato's eyelids lowered as he heard (Y/n) gulped Beidou's vomit involuntarily, cringing while sobbing– gagging. Itto's laughter drowns out any sounds of concern. (Y/n) hands flew to their throat, clawing to spit everything out as the others watched.

Is this… what people call "headaches"?

How dare she.

She dared not only steal his dog's first kiss but also dared to vomit inside them. Beidou had publicly disrespected what was under his control.

His eyes were emptier than before.

Unacceptable.

He did not fail to notice the others in the room as well. Kazuha jolted up awake at the commotion and searched for a tissue immediately. Some watched out of morbid curiosity like Al Haitham, while there’s people who nervously laughed without knowing what to do like Kaveh, and the rest hollered with the blood fiend.

The last category was filled with employees who had been in the department long enough to know Beidou’s antics. As one of them had told (Y/n) before the party started, Beidou had kissed nearly everyone in the room they’re in already when drunk. Couple that fact with how these colleagues have most of their sanity stripped away and live their lives unhinged, and you got yourself a group of people who no longer processes traumatic events as it is. To them, this is comedy.

The superior Public Safety Devil Hunter shifted his glare to them, effectively halting their laughter.

Mr. Kamisato will be keeping an eye on them.

He knows their names and their faces.

“Tch.”

Ayato roughly dabbed their mouth, cooing at his traumatized (Y/n) as the others looked out for Beidou. (Y/n)'s hands remained locked on their esophagus as if pushing out the last remaining toothpaste from the tube. Pitiable. And somehow, for ones with a sadistic inclination as he does, charming–

No.

Get it out.

Get it all out without hurting what's his.

Scrub every last trace of that woman out of them.

Mr. Kamisato let go of the tissue and brought his thumb against (Y/n)'s lips. Their breath hitched as his ministrations differed greatly from before. Instead of something so intense and near degrading, the way Ayato wiped the stains was warm. Intimate.

Yet Ayato's permanent polite smile betrayed his thoughts.

Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel. Blindfolds. Hands. Kneel.

Squish.

He closed his eyes.

Ayato did not care for whatever happens to Beidou next– she can get killed by a devil next week for all he cares– but he will not allow anything of this sort to occur ever again.

"Oh, my dearest (Y/n)," this time, he smiled not to seem normal but to comfort. And such a genuine gesture scared Ayato deep down. "Allow me to help you get it off your system, okay?"

Finally, their coworkers fully acknowledged (Y/n)'s plight. Kazuha was the first to lend his handkerchief, something Ayato made a mental note of. Kaveh turned around instead. The hairs in the blonde's arms certainly stood the straightest. In response, Al Haitham rolled his eyes over how squirmish his fellow recruit was.

"I have a grandmother who often vomits, perhaps–"

Kaveh immediately cut off Al Haitham, "Wait, you're actually volunteering to help?"

He shrugged. "No, I was merely offering advice on how to–"

Ayato snapped.

"I'll take care of this. Alone."

Ayato's grip on (Y/n) tightened, pulling them close to his chest protectively. He can sense them eager to cough out the vile shoved down their throat but sweetly, he will not give a damn if they released all that in his chest. Ayato led their head on his shoulder. His hand ran through their scalp, soothing them.

Every decision Kamisato Ayato makes is final.

He needn't hear more of their so-called input.

They don't need you.

His (Y/n) does not need ANY of you.

Slowly, Ayato tilted the nauseous (Y/n)'s chin.

"You'll let me take control, won't you, love?"

They nodded, tears in the corner of their eyes. Charmingly weak. A reflection of their humanity. The humanity Ayato did not care about for so long.

"Good do–" Ayato stopped himself.

"Good," he chuckled. "Just good. Now, follow me to the restroom."

He didn't let (Y/n) interact with anyone else that night.

—----------

That incident occurred yesterday, and it was still fresh in their memory.

(Y/n) had been especially gloomy as of late and had been ordered to never talk to Beidou until permitted by Mr. Kamisato. Instead of staying at Kazuha's apartment with Itto, Ayato made arrangements so that they'll have a room in his government-owned apartment. The man from then on refuses to let them out unless a mission requires them. It rattled (Y/n). In a sense, they were like a dog caged for a vase they did not break.

Like most mistreated dogs, they whined silently. Which were sounds that never go unnoticed by caring owners.

And all caring owners will prioritize their pets more than their phone ringing.

Ayato immediately muted his phone.

42 missed calls from Mr. Kaedehara, 36 from Ms. Beidou, and 11 from Kaveh.

He swiped their text notifications all away and faced it down on the table.

"(Y/n), my dear," Ayato began in a soft voice as he set down his boba tea and the take-out for tonight's meal. "Something troubles you. Though you may not wish to share at the moment, know that I am here for you should you ever need an ear."

(Y/n) looked up with gratitude in their eyes. Although they were not vocal about it like they usually are, they did not expect Mr. Kamisato to be perceptive and kind enough to acknowledge their demeanor.

"Thank you, Mr. Kamisato," (Y/n) mumbled. "It's just... I'm still pretty pissed by what happened. I had an absolute shit first kiss–"

They sobbed, voice cracking.

"–and even if I kiss a bunch of other women or guys in the future, I'll probably never get that taste of vomit off my mind, won't I?"

The room went quiet, and Ayato's shoulders dropped at their pitiful sounds.

He retrieved his cup of boba milk tea on the table again and silently placed it in front of (Y/n), aligning the straw in the direction of their lips.

"I understand," Ayato replied. "Sometimes, wounds of the heart take time to heal. But remember, there is a chance to create beautiful memories within every setback. Now open your mouth."

With a sigh, they took a sip of the boba milk tea, the taste of blueberry cheesecake tantalizing their tastebuds. (Y/n) relaxed, the tension in their body dissipating. However, as if urged to see their discomfort yet again out of perverse pleasure, Ayato spoke once more.

"You will likely never erase the taste of vomit in your mind for all eternity."

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed.

"However," Ayato cupped their cheek, forcing them to share his gaze.

"Now that you will forever live with me, you will have the chance to taste a wide variety of new flavors to the point you will never have to recall that unpleasant taste again."

As they savored the comforting flavor, Ayato's eyes twinkled mischievously, and a small smile tugged at his lips. He chuckled.

"And I would like you to take notice, (Y/n)," he began playfully, "that this delightful boba tea we're sharing is the taste of your first indirect kiss."

Surprised, (Y/n) messily choked on their drink, spluttering the content in their white shirt as embarrassment colored their cheeks red. Ayato chuckled softly, reaching out to pat (Y/n)'s back gently as they recovered.

That adorable expression. It beats that of a dog.

Their blush is human.

(Y/n) is human.

As (Y/n) wiped the sweet taste on their lips, they couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of hope, knowing that Mr. Kamisato will be there for them. Their lingering disappointment remains, that much is certain, but it will disappear in time. (Y/n) drank until the cup was emptied. It was a symbol of Mr. Kamisato's promise to make the taste of puke a distant memory and that–

In the end, everything will be alright.

He likes them. He's certain.

(Y/n) can make use of him.

Give Mr. Kamisato a chance, dearest (Y/n).

He'll add Ms. Beidou's death to his list of things to check off in your next assignment.

Not only that, of course. She won’t be the only one that’ll keep him busy. He has not forgotten the faces of those who laughed at you during your dilemma.

Maybe once the officer reassigns them all to a more… enthralling location, he’ll get a more satisfactory answer to the question:

"What does sanity truly mean when demanded of you by a Devil?"

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere kamisato ayato x reader #yandere ayato #tw yandere #male yandere #tag: csm au

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fantasyescapes17 · 1 year

Text

Candle (Part 1)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Genre: Yoon Jeonghan x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Wonwoo's sister so your last name is Jeon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.8k+

Part 2 Part 3

Series Masterlist [I would recommend reading the first story in this series, Patience, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

“It is not that I do not wish to marry,” you explained to the maid that was dealing with your hair. The fine silver comb tugged painfully on your scalp, but you had learned to ignore it through continued practice. “I do like the thought of being the lady of my own estate, and having children and a husband who loves me.”

The maid hummed as she dragged the comb through your hair. “Of course, miss.”

“But why must all the eligible bachelors of the ton be so dreadfully boring? Every conversation feels the same. If you’ve spoken to one of them, you may as well have spoken to them all,” you complained. “They constantly talk about the same subjects and offer the same compliments.”

“What would you like them to say instead, miss?” the maid asked lightly.

“Well, anything that I have not already heard a hundred times before!” you exclaimed as the maid fixed the last pin in your hair and released you. You turned to appraise yourself in the mirror carefully before pouting at your maid. “Daisy, I am not foolish enough to entertain expectations of true love. But is it too much to ask for a husband who will not drive me mad out of boredom? A husband for whom at least a small candle lights up in my heart- never mind a wild and burning flame?”

Daisy smiled. “You will be late, miss. Your family is waiting downstairs.”

“But you offer me no reassurances,” you noted with a frown.

“Do not worry yourself too much, miss. There are plenty of men in London this season that you are yet to meet. I am certain one of them will light your heart’s candle.”

You thanked her and then stood up to appraise yourself in the mirror. You had chosen one of your prettiest gowns for the first ball of the season and were pleased with the way the soft pastel colours accentuated your figure and skin. You were not the belle of the ball- you would leave titles like that to more perfect women than you- but you were certainly striking enough to never be left wanting for a dance partner or company.

God. All this effort to spend your evening listening to men offer you recycled compliments or boast about their fortunes.

"So her highness finally arrives. I thought perhaps you were waiting for the ball to end," your brother Wonwoo remarked as you walked down to the foyer of your large London home.

You paid him little mind. Wonwoo was not truly angry about the delay. He had no great love for social engagements or balls and suffered through them in the same way you did, albeit with fewer complaints.

"Beauty takes time," you replied simply.

"As does the journey to the Hessington's manor. Mother and Father are waiting for us outside."

"It would not be fashionable to arrive too early," you protested.

Wonwoo simply offered you his arm in silence and you joined your brother in stepping out of your large home and climbing into the lavish carriage that waited on the street outside. Your parents were already seated and your mother smiled when she saw you.

"Oh darling! You look quite lovely in that dress," she told you happily as the carriage slowly began to take your family to your destination. "I should not be surprised if your father has a queue of men outside his door to offer for your hand this season."

You smiled. "Thank you, mother. I am sure Father knows best."

Your father raised an eyebrow. He appeared bored. "I know nothing. You are perfectly capable of choosing your own husband. Unless you wish to marry a stable boy, you shall hear no sound from me."

Your mother swatted his arm. "Dearest! How can you say such a thing! It is of utmost importance that our dear daughter is married well and happy- and you must do everything you can to ensure this!"

Mr. Jeon chuckled. "I believe these matters require far more womanly expertise than I possess."

Your mother disregarded him and turned back to you. "Now darling, remember. We are in no hurry. This is only your first season and time and money are on our side. Unlike some of the other foolish mothers of the ton, I know that marrying well is far more important than marrying quickly."

You smiled. "Yes, mother."

"There is no need to accept any offers immediately. Do not court anyone straight away. Wait and watch and analyse. You deserve the very best."

You bit your lip and nodded. You had to admit that your mother's confidence in you made you feel better about your prospects. She was right. There was plenty of time. You were not in any rush and you would wait patiently until the right man for you appeared.

Hopefully he would.

"As for you, Wonwoo-" your mother continued, turning to your brother who had been staring out of the window absently. "Although your sister's marriage prospects occupy more of my time and attention than yours, it would be helpful if you at least indulged in a few dances and did not offend all the young ladies that crossed your path by ignoring them or pretending to be absorbed in a book."

Wonwoo flushed. He had been known to hide behind a book in order to avoid the attention of some of the more determined young ladies. Women frequently left your brother's company feeling snubbed.

"Yes, mother," he replied with a sigh.

"I want to see you up on the dance floor for at least two dances," she pressed.

"One," Wonwoo pushed back.

"Two, this is not a discussion."

Wonwoo decided against arguing with his mother and turned his attention back to the window of the carriage as it clattered noisily along the path to the ball. You chuckled- you could not wait to meet a woman who could put a genuine smile on Jeon Wonwoo's face. A difficult task indeed, but certainly not impossible.

The carriage stopped once your family arrived at the Hessington's ball. It was an incredibly grand affair. Being the first ball of the season, it would set the standard for all social events during the upcoming months. You could tell that this would be a glamorous season indeed.

You almost felt nervous.

"Isn't that your friend?" Wonwoo mumbled to you as your family entered the enormous bustling ballroom full of immaculately dressed men and women.

"Miss Jeon!"

You laughed in delight as a young woman in a bright purple dress came over to you and embraced you warmly. It had been many months since you had seen your dear friend Ella Williams. You wrote to her often but you were no great writer, and letters were not nearly enough to say all that you wished to share.

“Miss Williams! Oh, I am so delighted to see you here! How have you been?” you demanded of your friend.

Ella smiled. “I have been wonderful, as always. It is a pleasure to see you as well, Mr. Jeon!” Ella greeted your brother with a bright smile and a polite curtsey. Wonwoo acknowledged her with a small tilt of his head. Ella was no stranger to your brother’s quiet and unenthusiastic manner- so she merely giggled at him and did not take offence.

“He is upset because he is required to dance twice tonight,” you explained to Ella. “Wonwoo, you might as well ask Ella to dance with you so that half of your promise to mother is fulfilled. Then you need only find one more partner over the course of the evening.”

Ella batted her eyelashes at your brother. “I would not object to a dance with Mr. Jeon.”

You waited patiently while Wonwoo signed Ella’s dance card and then wordlessly disappeared further into the room in order to speak to some of his acquaintances. Ella beamed and turned back to you.

“Well. I shall be the target of much envy when I stand up for a dance with the elusive Mr. Jeon. Oh! But I have so much to tell you, my friend, come with me to the refreshments table and I will show you what I have prepared for us!”

You allowed Ella to take your arm and pull you towards the refreshments. You both found seats on a bench and she pulled a small black diary out of her pocket that she showed you cheerfully.

“Guess what this is?” she asked eagerly, but did not allow you time to formulate a response. “I spent the entire summer doing research and have prepared elaborate notes on every single marriage-minded bachelor that will be in attendance this season. I believe the usual clumsy method of turning up to as many social events as we can and simpering at random men only to be disappointed once we learn more about them cannot go on. We are clever women. We must employ the scientific method.”

You giggled at your friend. “The scientific method? To find a husband?”

“It is almost perfect! And it took me months to compile- I keep adding to it every time I learn more about any of them."

You looked at her book with a laugh. It really was packed full of notes. This was no small feat that Ella had achieved.

"How does this help us?" you asked, confused.

Ella sighed. "My dear friend. Every time a man introduces himself or asks you for a dance, you need only look him up in my little book to know everything about him! Well; perhaps not everything, it is still a work in progress but I am constantly adding to it!"

You looked down at her little book curiously.

"Ella… you may have created something very valuable," you admitted to her slowly. "I am sure many of the young women in the room would love to have a peek at that little book."

Ella beamed. "Yes, but I shall not share it with anyone but you."

"You really are a wonderful friend."

"Of course I am. Now- have you found any dance partners yet for the evening? I am lucky to have started the evening off strong by securing a dance with your brother- it is my turn to find you an equally excellent partner."

You smiled. "I would be very grateful."

But Ella's efforts were not necessary. As you stood, you were approached by your brother and another handsome young man with a very charming smile.

"I believe the dancing is about to begin," Wonwoo said simply as he offered his arm to Ella. He paused to look at you. "Sister, allow me to introduce you to my friend Mr. Kim Mingyu."

Mr. Kim Mingyu took your gloved hand into his own and pressed his lips to your knuckles in a suave manner.

"Miss Jeon. I have heard many wonderful things about you; would you do me the honour of joining me for the next dance?" Mingyu asked.

You smiled. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Kim."

"Excellent. This way."

Mingyu was a very good dancer and an adequate conversationalist. He did offer you some textbook insincere compliments about your dancing skill and your dress, but since he was good friends with your brother, any lulls in the conversation were filled with stories from the time he and Wonwoo spent together at Oxford. There was something very lighthearted about his words and manner. It left you with the impression that Mr. Kim Mingyu did not take anything very seriously-including his own marriage prospects.

"Thank you very much for the dance, Mr. Kim,” you bowed to him politely as the music came to an end. Mingyu smiled and offered you his arm to lead you away from the dance floor.

“It was a pleasure, Miss Jeon. May I help you find your next partner?” he offered generously. "I know multiple young men who would be delighted to be introduced to you.”

"I would be very grateful, Mr. Kim. But I have already promised Miss Ella Williams that she may be the one to find my next partner and I could not bear to disappoint her."

Mingyu nodded. "Very well. Your brother is probably seeking a corner to hide himself in for the rest of the evening, so if you find yourself requiring a dance partner at any moment please do not hesitate to send for me."

You laughed. "Indeed. I shall summon you as soon as your services become necessary."

Mingyu left you just as Ella came over to join you on your bench.

"Well, well," your friend teased. "Mr. Kim is certainly very handsome. And he appears to be an excellent dancer."

"Will you tell me what you have written about him in your little book?" you asked.

Ella withdrew the book from the folds of her skirts and took a moment to flip the pages. "Let us see here…. K for Kim… Mingyu…. ah! Here he is!

"Goodness, the page is full!" you laughed as you saw the page crammed to the brim with notes. There was barely any space left. "Is that a list of women he is rumoured to be courting? Heavens. You shall need to prepare a summary for this man."

"I have one," she replied, her fingers pointing to two underlined words on the top right corner. Notorious rake.

You both exchanged looks and laughed.

"That sounds about right," you giggled before taking her arm. "Now hurry! You promised to find me another dance partner! If we sit on the bench for too long then we might be approached by someone particularly odious."

"Of course!"

Ella grabbed your arm and guided you across the room to a group of men who stood conversing near the balcony. One of them turned and smiled when he saw Ella.

"Ella! I did not know you would be here tonight," he greeted her fondly. He had gentle eyes and a soft smile that put you instantly at ease.

"How could I miss the first ball of the season?" Ella asked. "Joshua, you must allow me to introduce you to my dear friend Miss Jeon. I insist that you dance the next dance with her, for she is so much in demand that you may not have another chance all season! Miss Jeon, this is my cousin Viscount Joshua Hong."

Joshua greeted you warmly. Unlike Mingyu, he made no excessively charming moves to kiss your hand but his impeccable manners put you at ease.

"Of course. It would be an honour to dance with Miss Jeon," he promised you. "But first allow me to make introductions of my own. I am accompanied by my dear friends Mr. Choi Seungcheol and Mr. Yoon Jeonghan."

You curtsied politely to the two men. Mr. Choi was handsome, certainly, but you were struck immediately by how unnaturally perfect Mr. Yoon Jeonghan was. His features were sharp, angular, and he looked like a marble statue sculpted by a skilled artist. Jeonghan had an almost ethereal beauty to him.

And he turned immediately to your friend.

"Miss Williams, may I request your hand for the next dance, if you have not already promised it to another?" Jeonghan asked, as he offered her his hand.

Ella took it without hesitation. "Of course!"

It was no punishment to dance with Viscount Joshua Hong. The man was possibly the most eligible bachelor in the room considering his title, vast fortune and gentlemanly reputation so Ella had done you a great favour. Joshua made light and pleasant conversation as you danced. He was not entirely boring, but also failed to be particularly interesting. You found yourself casting glances across the room at Ella's dance partner.

When your dance with Joshua came to an end, you approached Ella and Jeonghan with the faint hope that you might be chosen as Mr. Yoon Jeonghan's next partner- only to find that the man in question had already left the area.

"What happened to Mr. Yoon?" you asked your friend casually.

"He apologised and had to leave early. Something about his sister- perhaps you know her? Miss Yoon? Fairly pretty woman who is rather well-known for strangely not receiving any offers of marriage since the last many seasons?"

It sounded familiar. "Was he a good dancer?"

"Excellent- but I was terribly nervous throughout the dance, after all, you know what everyone says about him!" Ella said with a shaky laugh.

You did not know. "What does everyone say about him-"

Your question was cut off by the appearance of your mother, who took your arm with a bright smile. “My dear! I can see that you have been quite successful with your dance partners tonight. Not only Mr Kim Mingyu but Viscount Hong as well! Everyone is quite taken with you.”

You smiled at your mother. “Thank you, mother-”

“Come along now. I have many others to introduce you to, we should take advantage of this momentum. You should come as well, Ella. A certain Mr. Lee has been asking about you and you will need someone to make the necessary introductions!”

Ella smiled and took your hand as the two of you followed your mother.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

The Hessington’s ball was, in your mother’s expert opinion, a grand success. You had danced almost every dance with an eligible young man and the general consensus among the ton was that you were a delightful young woman who would likely receive her fair share of attention and gentleman callers.

It was difficult to not want to bask in all the attention.

“Mother! May I go to the assembly rooms with Ella and Mrs. Williams this evening? I believe we have no other engagements,” you reminded her eagerly as she attended to her knitting in the drawing room. Your mother looked up at you.

“Will Mrs. Williams chaperone?”

“Of course.”

Upon receiving her permission you hurried upstairs to dress for an evening at the assembly rooms. You had heard from Ella that Viscount Hong would be in attendance. While you had no specific interest in Joshua himself, you could not deny that the Viscount was well-connected and always ready and able to make introductions with other eligible young men.

Daisy helped you into a pretty dress. Since an evening at the assembly rooms was not nearly as glamorous as a ball, you kept your attire simple but could not resist finishing off your look with a string of pearls around your neck.

“You look lovely, miss,” Daisy complimented you kindly. “The pearls suit you very well.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Daisy.”

The Williams’ carriage arrived promptly to pick you up, and you travelled to the assembly rooms with Ella and her mother. You were delighted when Mrs. Williams promptly sat down at one of the many card tables and announced her intention to play whist all evening. The older woman appeared to have no plans of following you or Ella about the room, or being an overbearing chaperone.

"I have decided to cast my net upon Mr. Xu Minghao tonight," Ella whispered to you, gesturing to a handsome young man in the corner of the room. "I shall ask Joshua to introduce me. Would you like to come?"

You tilted your head thoughtfully. "I might play some cards first. I have been looking forward to it for a while. Do you think it would be impolite for me to sit down at any of these tables?"

"I see Mrs. Patty there. She will surely welcome you at her card table; although I would be careful. I hear her gambling habit can be… excessive. And she gossips even more than she gambles."

You giggled. "I shall be fine with Mrs. Patty. She likes me. Go on and demonstrate your charms to Mr. Xu."

You were welcomed warmly at the card tables by Mrs. Patty and the other ladies, all of whom complimented your success at the Hessington's ball the previous evening while dealing you into their game. You were not a very experienced card player, but it did not signify. The bets were small at the ladies’ table. On the other hand, the table of gentlemen across from you were clearly playing for much higher stakes.

You had a clear view of the men's card table. A few familiar faces were seated there- including Mr. Kim Mingyu and Mr. Kwon Soonyoung. The occupant that was of particular interest to you, however, was Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. Jeonghan had leaned back in his seat in a relaxed and careless manner, a handsome smirk on his face as he observed his cards.

Really, he was unfairly attractive. How were you supposed to focus on your cards when a man as perfect as Yoon Jeonghan sat directly in your line of view? It was hardly surprising that you lost the first round of the game with the ladies.

Jeonghan looked up suddenly and his intense gaze met yours. You were a little flustered at having been caught staring, but the corner of his lips curved up in a hint of a smile. Jeonghan acknowledged you with a simple tilt of his head. You forced a polite smile back and quickly turned away.

When you dared to lift your eyes in his direction once more, he had already turned his attention away from you.

“Really Mr. Yoon? Will you continue to win until you bleed us all dry?” you heard Mr. Kim Mingyu demand from the other table. The other men nodded in agreement; it appeared that Mr. Yoon had won almost every hand this evening.

“You are bleeding yourself dry, Mr. Kim. Perhaps you may wish to study the rules of the game before you hand your money to me?” Jeonghan suggested lightly.

“If I play another round with you I shall be in danger of losing my estate.”

There appeared to be a general consensus among the men at table that they had lost enough money to Mr. Yoon for one evening. You watched with interest as they all left the table in search of refreshments and other entertainment. Mr. Yoon lingered at the table a few moments longer to collect his belongings.

It was a rare opening- you waited until your current round ended and took the chance to excuse yourself from the ladies table.

“Pardon me, Mrs. Patty but I think I have had my fill of cards. I will take your leave now,” you said to the older woman who dismissed you easily.

You took a deep breath. Perhaps it was an… audacious move (if not an entirely improper one) for you to approach Mr. Yoon while there was nobody else in your company. But you were quite determined to learn more about this man with the angelic features and confident gaze. You could not simply wait until Jeonghan decided to take note of you- you would bring the conversation to him.

“Mr. Yoon,” you greeted him politely.

Jeonghan turned to you with mild surprise. This was a crowded room, yes, but it was still bold of you to approach him without a female chaperone.

Although to be fair, Yoon Jeonghan had never been one to put too fine a point on the rules of propriety.

“Miss Jeon, if I am not mistaken,” he greeted calmly. He gave no indication that he found you approaching him to be improper. “We were introduced at the Hessington’s ball last evening. I heard from my stepmother that you had excellent success and danced every single dance.”

“I do not know if I was particularly successful at anything; to dance every dance at a ball is not unheard of. But to win almost every hand of cards while playing a game of chance… that is what I would consider success,” you teased him.

It was a bold attempt at flirtation- you could only wait and see what move Jeonghan would make.

Jeonghan folded his arms across his chest. You could tell that he was biting back a smile. “Perhaps my opponents were simply too drunk to remember the rules of the game,” he suggested.

“Or perhaps you have devised a way to eliminate the influence of chance on the game’s outcome entirely.”

Jeonghan could not resist a chuckle. “Miss Jeon. I must protest this line of questioning. It seems to be in danger of impinging upon my honour as a gentleman. I hope you don’t mean to accuse me of cheating at cards?”

“Res ipsa loquitor, as they say in Latin, or- the thing speaks for itself,” you continued to tease him. “Do you deny it?”

“I shall not deny it. Instead, I shall generously grant you the opportunity to withdraw this dangerous allegation you have chosen to make,” he continued, “for I am confident that you possess no evidence to support your claim. Please- have a seat. It would not do for you to remain standing while we debate my alleged crimes.”

You allowed Jeonghan to pull out a chair for you and he expertly moved behind you to push it back in before taking his own seat. You folded your hands in your lap and smiled at him. You were enjoying this conversation.

“Your words are clever Mr. Yoon, but they do not cry innocence,” you insisted.

“I am not claiming to be innocent.”

“Then you admit you are guilty?”

“I shall not answer your allegation either way,” Jeonghan replied with a chuckle. “But I am concerned for the impact your allegations shall have on your honour when you find yourself unable to justify them with sufficient evidence.”

You laughed. “So you are greatly concerned for my honour, are you, Mr. Yoon?”

“I would be concerned for the honour of any young lady in your position.”

“Then how do you suggest we resolve this? For I find it impossible to believe that you should have been able to win so many rounds of a game of chance without having found some manner of tilting the scales of luck in your favour,” you insisted.

Jeonghan leaned closer to you suddenly. His dark eyes boldly met yours and your senses were instantly overwhelmed by him. His clean scent, the sound of his soft breathing and his handsome face hovering a few inches from your own. Jeonghan’s voice (suddenly low) sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“If you do not withdraw your allegation,” he whispered. “I shall have no choice but to demand satisfaction.”

Oh. This man was dangerous.

He pulled back and you felt a rush of adrenaline. Noone had ever flirted with you quite like this before- and it was, clearly and undoubtedly a delightfully dangerous flirtation, for what man would innocently lean so close and whisper such words in the presence of a lady unless he meant to be unequivocal about his nefarious intention?

It appeared you had walked into the lion’s den of your own free will.

“Satisfaction?” you asked him, trying not to reveal how flustered you were. “I hope you do not intend to challenge a lady to a duel, Mr. Yoon.”

“A duel? No, not at all. I can think of better ways for you to restore my honour.”

“I have no intention of restoring your honour,” you replied boldly.

“Perhaps I shall be able to persuade you otherwise. Tell me Miss Yoon- have you recently lost anything? Perhaps a valuable item that you carry upon your person?” Jeonghan asked in a knowing tone.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You had not carried much with you and you quickly checked that you still possessed your handkerchief and reticule. As you turned your head, however, you realised that there was a strange lightness around your neck.

Your hand flew up to your bare neck.

“My pearls!”

Jeonghan smirked. His arm moved subtly across the table and you caught a glimpse of something white and shiny clasped in his hand just before he tucked it into the breast pocket of his coat. You stared at him in shock and disbelief.

“Mr. Yoon- have you just stolen my pearls?” you demanded in a hushed tone.

Jeonghan looked pleased with himself.

“Not to worry, my lady. I have every intention of returning them to you tomorrow, at the Hongs’ ball- where you shall do me the honour of dancing the final dance of the evening with me. An act which will, I believe, be adequate recompense for the baseless accusations you have brought upon my honour.”

You looked up at him with a smile.

So it was to be a game.

“You don’t play fair, Mr. Yoon,” you remarked.

“Remind me to further discuss the merits of fairness during our dance at tomorrow’s ball,” Jeonghan suggested as he stood from his seat and reached for your hand. He pressed his lips against your knuckles- softly, tantalisingly, and perhaps lingering for half a second longer than appropriate before giving you a roguish smile. “Have a pleasant evening, Miss Jeon.”

You watched as he walked away to join his companions at the refreshment tables. Your heartbeat thumped with excitement while the adrenaline from your unbelievably shocking encounter with Mr. Yoon Jeonghan slowly ebbed.

Well, you thought to yourself. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan had certainly lit your heart’s candle.

Indeed, he seemed quite in danger of tipping it over and setting the entire bloody place on fire.

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

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed so much love for my first fic Patience, and also thank you for reading Candle! Jeonghan was such a crucial character in Patience that it was always my intention to write a companion fic for him.

I should be able to upload the next part of Candle in a few days, if all goes well. I'm also in the process of plotting for Wonwoo, Mingyu and Hoshi, in no particular order.

Any feedback is welcome! I'm not sensitive lol.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen au #regency!au #yoon jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan scenarios

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