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feitania · 1 year

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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊:

𝕸𝖊𝖑𝖕𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖊

the muse and patron of tragedy

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: when you are just a child, your father, Viscount Haitani, promises you to Duke Akashi's second son- the cold and distant Akashi Haruchiyo. Now engaged at the tender age of seven, you fall into your first tragedy of an arranged marriage with a total stranger who doesn't even seem to like you and betrays you the first chance he gets. And even worse; years later when you meet again the hatred for each other still burns in your veins, mixed with something else...

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: hurt/comfort, reader is a child in the prolouge, misogyny

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: Akashi Haruchiyo, Akashi Senju, Akashi Takeomi, Haitani Rindou, Haitani Ran

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The first time you met the Akashi Family you were barely seven years old, still hiding behind your mother's legs and shyly burying your face in her skirt when approached by a stranger- too young to fully understand why you suddenly had to spend time with kids you never talked to before.

You rather wanted to spend more time with your brothers who were outside most of the day; Rindou learning with furious motivation how to master hand-to-hand combat while Ran instead specialized on his perfect, noble appearance, riding around the estate with such arrogance yet charming confidence that even your father could only shake his head.

Even when you were standing in the entrance hall of the Akashi household with tears in your eyes, grabbing onto Rindous trousers and begging them to stay with you, it was your mother who harshly pulled you away.

But your parents had made it clear that they didn't want you -the precious and only daughter of viscount Haitani- to run around in the dirt like they allowed your brothers to do.

“Do not start crying now, your face will be all red,” she said while leaning down to smooth out any possible wrinkles on your silk brocade dress. “No man desires a woman with a bloated face.”

That you were far too young to even be desired was something your mother ignored in favour of rearranging the pearl pins in your hair.

Maybe it was the unusual quietness that filled the air with a heavy tension or the frown on Ran's face as he stared straight ahead but instead of opposing your mother's words, you swallowed the tears burning in your eyes and looked at your feet while your father gently pried Rindou away from you.

A maid greeted and escorted you through the garden to the dining hall where you were supposed to meet the Akashis. If you weren´t so nervous you would have enjoyed the walk through the beautiful garden filled with white roses, dark lavender and vines crawling up columns out of black marble with silver ornaments. Small and well-kept ponds with lotus blooming beautifully were seated symmetrically on the side of the stone path leading to the imposing Duchy.

The meeting itself was a quiet affair.

Your brothers had a little bit more interest in the estate, Rindou laging behind to watch an exotic looking fish and Ran pointing at various flowers and whispering their names into your ear- to distract you probably.

“You two must be the sons of the Viscount! And you,” he bowed down to you and smiled, taking your hand and squeezing it, “must be the daughter of my old friend. Haruchiyo´s future bride.”

The Duke and his children were already waiting for you at the entrance, giving your father a nod and your mother a hand kiss which she accepted with blushing cheeks before turning to you and your brothers.

Just as with your mother, he gave you a short kiss on the back of your hand- which you wiped off on your skirt in mild disgust when no one was looking -before turning around to the three children standing behind him.

You knew the Akashi siblings already from your father's stories and your brothers' friends' sister, princess Emma, who occasionally invited you to play dates but you have never seen them, never interested enough to care about other people apart from your brothers.

Takeomi Akashi was a name you had heard at least once at dinner parties when you had to sit at a table with adults who talked about things you didn´t understand. He was crown prince Shinishiro's best friend and the heir to the Dukedom.

Senju Akashi was the daughter, a little younger than you but so beautiful you felt underdressed even when she only wore a simple dark gown and had wild hair with a flower petal still tangled in it while you were dressed in your best clothes and most expensive looking jewellery.

And then there was him. Haruchyio Akashi. The second son of the Duke, a prodigy with incredible wit and fighting talent, the boy who looked like an angel, even more ethereal than his sister.

Your future husband- at least that´s what your mother had excitedly told her friends could happen to be at a dinner party of hers.

You curtsied, bending down low just like your Governess showed you, but instead of lowering your gaze you dared to look up to Haruchiyo again, hoping to find something- anything -that would indicate of his excitement to finally meet you. But there was nothing.

The youngest Akashi didn't even look at you, his aloof gaze went right past you into the distance as if he didn´t even care about you.

In that moment you felt your fragile, young heart breaking for the first time.

In all these years of getting told how important marriage was, especially for a young Lady like you, you always imagined that it would still be out of love. That the person who would be your betrothed would make your heart beat faster, enlighten a firework inside your body and hang you the moon and stars the moment your eyes meet.

The rest was a blur of colors, greetings and meaningless conversation mostly lead by Duke Akashi and your father while your brothers tried to throw peas at each other without your mother noticing and Haruchiyo…ignoring you.

You realized you were lied to.

Over the years, you tried your best to appeal the youngest Akashi son; You were on your best behaviour, asked your mother to dress you in color matching gowns, started sneaking into your brothers’ rooms to read the more mature books about politics and war your father never allowed you to own and followed Haruchiyo and his friends around like a duckling, hopeful he would turn around and take your hand.

He was seated to your right but you didn't dare to peer over to him more than to his hands, which were gripping the silver cutlery until his knuckles turned white. Suddenly you were nearly glad for the distraction in form of a pea being sent your way by Rindou.

When you were ten, he seemed to be more annoyed by your presence with each sent letter, each visit. If it wouldn´t have been for his parents and the prince who was in his company, you were sure he would have started actively hiding from you.

“Oh my dear, look at that: Another present for you.”

Which made the gifts in his name sent to the Haitani estate each week much more confusing for you.

A big bouquet of white and pink flowers greeted you at the breakfast table, as well as a box adorned with a white bow and letter tied to it.

Ran and Rindou were already sitting at the table, grinning at the courting gifts with teasing looks.

“Another little something from your admirer,” Rindou said in a saccharine voice, “what could it be this time?”

“It must be personally hand-picked from Akashi himself, he is such an attentive young man” Ran joined in.

“Boys.”

You´re father looked up from the end of the table to shot your brothers a warning look before turning back to his newspaper.

You sat down, curiously smelling the flowers before gently loosening the bow off the wooden box and looking for it´s content.

It was, like usual, a small but expensive looking accessorie for your dress or hair– mostly golden pins with jewels or pearls looking like tears hanging onto silver bands.

Your jewellery had expanded into an excessive collection over the last years, overflowing with satin ribbons, necklaces, rubies and delicate looking tiaras– offerings that promised devotion, a good life and all of them oh so beautifully unpersonal.

You knew your mother and maids were all enamored with the gifts your fiancé sent you but he could have written any other name on it and it would still be an appropriate present loved by many. It was painfully obvious to you that he probably wouldn't even notice which ornaments were his if he would meet you wearing them.

Only the flowers seemed to be somewhat picked with thought. They matched either your taste or the weeks weather.

But what really got your interest were the letters hanging on the box. The only things that were surely Haruchiyo´s doing.

Still occupied with the jewellery, nobody saw when you let the envelope slip into your lap, hidden away by the layers of your dark red overskirt. This was your secret, not shared with your mother who was currently gushing over the pearls sewn onto the black veil, not with your father or your brothers. It was entirely yours.

You couldn't remember when it started, the letters from him, but you cherished every fast written and messy word on it.

The letters weren´t like the other things he sent, less formal and with sarcastic remarks and dramatic description in mean undertones. They were more outlet for him than a serious message, he probably didn´t think you would catch onto his little secret rant. But you did.

“Why do you smile so bashfully?” Rindou asked from across the table while Ran was still occupied with feeling up the fabric of the newest courting gift.

And you enjoyed every letter.

Your gaze shifted to your brother. His blonde hair was tied together neatly which meant he had classes today, something he hated with a passion you weren´t aware he could muster.

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do!”

“You must be seeing things.”

“You are turning red out of anger then?” He leaned further onto the table, his purple, tired eyes glinted dangerously. Teasing was usually Ran's speciality but when your oldest brother was busy Rindou faithfully took over the task of annoying you until you lashed out and tried chasing after your brothers with your petticoat and tightly laced dress slowing you down constantly.

“Maybe it is your fault I am reddening,” you shoot back.

“Your adoration flatters me, sister.”

“Oh, shut up.” You kicked back your chair and excused yourself before stomping out of the dining salon.

Dearest fiancé,

In your room you threw yourself onto your bed and let your body sink into the soft cover. You waited a few minutes if a maid or perhaps your mother would come in before you fumbled the letter out of your dress. Opening it swiftly with your nails you turned on your belly and eagerly unfolded the letter.

No uniquely dark-colored pearls from the deepest sea could match your smile,

no silk compares to your smooth, oily skin,

Still, I hope, no, I wish for you to cherish this gift,

which I humbly present you as my sign of love and devotion.

Yours entirely and in love

Because of your young age and the fearsome reputation of your eccentric brothers you didn´t receive many love letters and even less gifts and poems, unlike other girls like princess Emma who, at the tender age of eight already had a box full of discarded proposals from men across the country.

When you met her for tea for the first few times, thanks to your brothers' connections to the second prince, she had shown you a few of them and you were mesmerized by the bold and devoted letters men twice your age wrote to the blonde girl.

“My brothers said I shouldn´t read them like a letter but a business proposition,” she had explained to you when you both were hunched over the pile of envelopes in her pink and blue bedroom.

“Why?”

“Because they lie. It´s not like they adore me like a lover does, my brothers said.”

“What do your brothers know of love then?” you had asked, scooting closer and smoothing the edges of your black and white flower dress.

“Oh, I do not think any of them knows what love is,” she had paused for a second to lower her voice, “even less how to talk to a woman.” And then she had fallen over in a fit of giggles which you had joined, rolling around the thick carpet until your tummy hurt.

After that, she had told you about a boy. A friend of her brother, a commoner of low status who caught Manjiro´s attention by sheer luck, always getting kind of awkward and looking out of place yet confident and kind when talked too. You had seen how she had blushed when she described him and you had hoped to maybe, one day, talk about someone with the same smitten expression as she had done.

Lying on your bed and thinking about a smart response, hopefully matching his undertone, wasn't exactly what you thought would be the nearest thing you'd get to the love you have seen in your friends’ eyes but nevertheless you were excited for them, for him.

It was a silly fantasy that you entertained yourself with, having his attention for yourself because he wanted to, not because his parents forced him.

And if you kept all the ill meant letters in a box under your bed fostering a strange attachment to the only honest emotions shown from the older boy, no one had to know.

Half a year later you moved them to your closet to read while the maids dressed you in the morning.

A final, formal letter wearing the akashi family crest callously cancelling your engagement was last to enter the flames. And so you were left humiliated and heartbroken, crying earnestly in the company of your brothers all still clad in ornate mourning attire from Shinichiro's death, and hosting a funeral of your own...

Another half year later and you burned them all, accompanied by your brothers.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #akashi haruchiyo #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu x reader #sano mikey manjiro #mikey x reader #tokyo manji gang #tokyorev

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orchid3a · 2 years

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REGALITÀ & MAGIA

♞about ↬ this collab focuses on both royal au! and fantasy au! you can either choose one of the two or mix it up! it’s up to you!

♞rules ↬

participants needs to be 18+ to join this collab (ageless blogs and minors will be ignored / blocked) also the characters need to be 18+

characters can be repeated up to three times

participants can join up as many times as they want

the work can be either sfw, nsfw and dc

if your work deals with nsfw and / or dc tag it properly

all media are accepted!

if you need more info don't hesitate to DM

no limits of word, however works 500+ must be under readmore

♞how to enter ↬ send an off-anon ask or DM, telling me the fandom and the characters you chose, then i will put you in the masterlist. after sending the ask reblog this post <3

♞deadline ↬ since i’m pretty bad with deadlines, there will no be a real deadline! if i want to set a “deadline” it will probably be around march 2023. if you don’t want to participate any longer, send me a DM.

♞fandom ↬ this collab is an open fandom, so any fandom can participate!

♞tag ↬ once you have finished tag me and use the tag #regalità & magia - collab

♞masterlist ↬

♞tokyo revengers

gli amanti - big sis hanagaki!princess!reader x knight!hanma shuji - [nsfw] - @/1900-aria

a love story like ours - sano shinichiro - [fluff, angst with a lil bit of nsfw] - @haitaniapologist

title - bodyguard!kakucho x princess!reader - @etheralyonn

cherry blossoms - knight!draken x villager!afab!reader - [sfw] - @sirthisisa-wendys

i was nineteen in a white dress - when you told me i'm your princess - prince!haitani ran x miss kurokawa! afab!reader - [nsfw] - @blueparadis

♞jujutsu kaisen

cosmic symmetry - kokonoi hajime x inui seishu - [nsfw] - @/blueparadis

title - knight!haitani rindou x princess!reader - [sfw] - @softbajis

house of cards - prince!gojo satoru x reader x duke!fushiguro toji - [nsfw] - @p-antomime

title - incubus!fushiguro toji x duchess!reader - @chosoguapo

♞genshin impact

title - prince!kamisato ayato x fairy!reader - @/p-antomine

♞boku no hero academia

none yet

♞misc

title - hatake kakashi x reader (naruto) - @pinkhorangnabi

title - uchiha itachi x reader (naruto) - @/pinkhorangnabi

#✒️ - aria writes #regalità & magia - collab #tokyo revengers x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geshin impact x reader #bnha x reader #tokrev x reader #jjk x reader #anime x reader #haikyu x reader

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highpri3stess · 1 month

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Me and Rindou, clearly drunk in the backseat singing with the radio: Carlifonia girl we're unforgettable, daisy dukes bikinis on top 🎶

Me at a sleep deprived Ran who had to get us from the club: Cmon Ran join us *exictedly*

Ran: *blinks tiredly* Babe, please

#based on that one rindou meme #lovergirl ♡

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moondewhq · 3 months

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mw male characters?

hi nonnie!! we've asked the members, and this is what we would most like to see !!

kei tsukishima, toru oikawa, koshi sugawara, osamu miya, tetsuro kuroo, yu nishinoya ( haikyuu ! ), bucky barnes, steve rogers, tony stark, tommy shepherd, billy kaplan, teddy altman, scott summers ( marvel ), wally west, bruce wayne, clark kent, jon kent, oliver queen, duke thomas, john constantine ( dc ) jason grace, leo valdez, grover underwood, frank zhang ( riordanverse ) chifuyu matsuno, rindou haitani, sanzu haruchiyo ( tokyo revengers ), isogai yuuma, maehara hiroto ( assassination classroom ) leon kennedy, carlos oliveira, chris redfield, piers nivans, albert wesker, billy cohen ( resident evil ) aki hayakawa, denji ( chainsawman ) tyler galpin, gomez addams, fester addams ( wednesday ) ichigo kurosaki, gin ichimaru, kira izuru, renji abarai, byakuya kuchiki, grimmjow, ikkaku madarame ( bleach ), ino takuma, kinki hakari, atsuya kusakabe ( jujutsu kaisen ) denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, natsuo todoroki ( my hero academia ) draven, ekko, garen, graves, twisted fate, jayce, thresh, kayn, kucien, lazahar, rakan, varus, viego, viktor, zed, k'sante, yone ( league of legends )

#mdhq.mw #mdhq.asks #anime rp #animanga rp #manga rp #discord rp #dc rp #comics rp #jjk rp #mha rp #bhna rp #csm rp #chainsaw man rp #league of legends rp #heartsteel rp #admin: achilles

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winterxfalls · 8 months

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ABOUT ME !!

✧˖°˖☆ hi i'm mai !! she / her . 17 . wasian (eng-viet)

libra sun . scorpio rising . aries moon . istp . 9w1

likes: taylor swift, cats, the barbie movie, doing my nails + makeup, golden hour, concerts, writing, loud music, bright/light colours, arctic monkeys, miso soup, hot weather, (g)i-dle, skz, 1995+2005 pride and prejudice

dislikes: people walking slowly and also taking up the whole pavement, long queues, aubergines, artificial banana-flavoured foods, bugs (cockroaches), john mayer, getting up early

my faves:

jujustu kaisen: shoko!!! geto, gojo, nobara<3333, haibara + nanami, maki

bungou stray dogs: chuuya!! yosano, kouyou, tachi, kunikida

chainsaw man: reze, denji, power, aki, asa!!

genshin + hsr: march 7th, kaeya, stelle and caelus <3, yae, kaveh, amber and collei, neuvillette, la signora, dan heng, kafka + sw + blade

manhwa characters: sucheon and suman kang, dokja kim, jihye lee, sun wukong, navier trovi, hestia + cael, su-ae shim!! baruem jeong and yuyeon na, hanrim im, baram oh, doyun nam, chae-a han, pereshati jahardt, all characters from love advice from the great duke of hell

others: jean, levi, armin, leon kennedy, lady tamayo, mitsuri, rindou haitani, lucifer, asmo, mammon, simeon, baji, akaashi, xie lian

#mai.thoughts

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daeva-agas · 2 years

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I had to backtrack a bit to the prologue because at first I had thought that the place where Aira lives, Inaris, is a domain within Aldras. Inaris is described as a 公国, and one meaning for this is “duchy”. So I thought it was some duke’s territory that is part of Aldras, especially because the prologue said Aldras aided Inaris during the financial crisis. I thought it was like, yeah, the king came in and bailed out its domains.

But after further context, it looks like in this case it’s the other meaning of the word, which is Principality? I.e Inaris is close to Aldras, but is a separate country.

Also, I hadn’t paid much attention to the prologue, but when I came back to reread it now after all that blah about Bradford being someone who controls Aldras’s finances, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been the one who had sent that aid and saved Inaris. Now that we need to figure out is Why, because it’s not looking like the kind of romance where “suddenly it was revealed that they knew each other when MC is a child” *. Brad seems to know nothing about the Werricks outside of the rumours and doesn’t care.

*) As an aside, I’m tired of this plot in otome games, especially when the dude came across as hecking shady. This “we actually knew each other ages ago” is pulled out of nowhere to make the MC stop mistrusting Shady Dude. Voltage pulled this with Katsu in Bakuten, and Solmare did this multiple times in their many many Shall We Date apps. It was with Rindou in Destiny Ninja 2, again in Wizardess Heart with that dragon headmaster person, and also in Blood in Roses with Bradley.

#scum loanshark daddy #liveblogging novel

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aqricus · 2 years

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COSTUME PARTY! — minors dni

♥︎. PAIRING … vampire!ran haitani x fem!reader

♥︎. SUMMARY … there’s only one thing ran despises more than halloween, and it’s you, who dresses up as a fake vampire.

♥︎. CONTAINS … afab reader. oral (m! receiving). cunnilingus. fingering. squirting. breath play/choking. dom/sub dynamics. deepthroating. fantasy/supernatural. ran is mean. noncon if you squint. manipulation. gore/blood/violence. death threat. dark content. degredation. name-calling (slut). mentions of weed and alcohol.

♥︎. NOTE … very special thank you to @haitaini for sitting and beta reading all 8k words for me <3 kissing u thru the screen rn

IF YOU DON’T READ THE WARNINGS, THAT’S ON YOU !!

Ran Haitani has never been fond of modern-day parties, much less the holiday they call “Halloween.”

In fact, if it weren’t for Rindou’s incessant nagging and bitching about his lack of experience in this time period, he would still be holed up in their shared penthouse, delicate eyeglasses perched upon the bridge of his nose as he thumbed through a copy of King Lear, his favorite book before he was transformed into what is commonly referred to as an undead.

Now, all he can do is wrinkle his nose from his place plastered against the wall at the jostling sea of inebriated college students. Neon glow sticks are strung around necks dusted with a silver powder that serves as a bitter reminder of the splendor he once savored during his time as one of the country’s dukes–a fleeting, sour taste of the wealth that wilted with age and crumbled, obsolete, between his fingers despite his desperate attempts to cling to his name, to the authority his family once commanded.

Ran arose from old riches, and he always assumed that to his birthplace he would return. After all, with a kaleidoscopic explosion of gold scattered across twin pools of violet and a silver tongue that spun the most sensual, hypnotic lullabies and frequently dripped with a reflection of the garnet grandeur he once donned upon his fingers, nothing else would befit a descendent of the Haitani line more than such a resting place.

But, somewhere along the way, the classical melodies once drawn from skilled fingers plucking away at harpsichords were replaced with thumping basses he could feel in his throat, the carmine wine he enjoyed over civil conversation with foreign diplomats became sharp-scented, cheap beers that his mother would have gawked at, and the prim concubines and suitors that flirted with nothing more than flutters of ornate fans and secretive smiles became shameless young women who prance about in the skimpiest, most ridiculous adaptations of occupations and “monsters” he’s ever seen in his three hundred years of existence.

Halloween. Just the thought curdles his stomach. People nowadays are foolish, modeling rubber masks after creatures whose true terror was lost in translation generations ago and sending children scampering about in white sheets and straw-stuffed sweatshirts in search of enough sweets to make their next dentist appointment a real nightmare. Simplistic, so blissful in their ignorance and unconcerned about the whispers drifting through the woods and the disembodied footsteps that always seem to thump on the very edge of their hearing range. They know nothing about the treacherous truth of the world around them. They live imprudently, die in fear, and time moves on without a care. But, not for him. Not for Ran and Rindou Haitani.

“Hey,” he doesn’t need to turn his head to identify the familiar bump of a shoulder against his own. Rindou’s eyes are turned to the middle of the floor that’s awash with vibrant cyan lights. Bare skin twinkles and sparkles in the artificial glow, and Ran lifts his solo cup to his lips. “What’s your deal? You haven’t left the corner since we got here. Looks like you’ve got a stick up your ass.”

As if on cue, a girl dressed in a lace camisole, a plastic diadem, and a miniskirt doubles over a few yards away, coughing and retching as the contents of her stomach splatter onto the floor. Without missing a beat, Ran gestures with his cup. “That’s my problem.”

A murmur of revulsion ripples over the crowd as partygoers stumble away from the puddle of vomit, but it only lasts for a few seconds before they’re all swept back into the music. Rindou grimaces. “Gross.” He mumbles. Ran snickers, cracks a grin. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, I get what you mean. But, you should still go out and… you know, talk instead of standing here like a dumbass.”

“I could,” Ran lifts his cup to his lips once more. “But, it wouldn’t be any fun.” His expression remains nonchalant, indifferent, even as the bitter liquid singes his taste buds. Truthfully, he can’t count on his fingers all of the times he’s been approached by tipsy, giggling women donning a pair of fishnets and flimsy angel wings in hopes that he would help “fix their wings” or “walk them to the bathroom.”

While he certainly doesn’t mind playing a little game of cat-and-mouse with women, this still isn’t the scene where he’d prefer to initiate his mind games. When they’re sloppily drunk and vomiting when you least expect it, it saps the fun out of things pretty quickly.

“Dunno what you’re talking about,” Rindou crumples his own cup in his hand before letting it fall carelessly to the floor. “All you used to do was flirt with common folk and kiss your suitors’ asses just to break their hearts. If anything,” he snorts, “you belong here more than I do, brother.”

Ran taps the rim of his cup against his lips, the mischievous glint sparking in his eye and the delicate curl of his lips into a grin betraying the pensive gesture. “Come, now,” he replies breezily, “I wasn’t that bad. It was only a couple–”

“Hundred.”

At this, Ran chuckles aloud. There is some semblance of truth in Rindou’s words, whether he cares to admit it or not. While he certainly did not bed that many women, the blemish that his coy, flirtatious nature left on his reputation is glaringly prominent. It had started out as a meaningless rendezvous that was supposed to be confined to the walls of the west wing’s ivory tower; nothing more than a quick fuck between him and a maid who he fancied at the time.

But, eventually, word traveled, and so did his eyes, wandering from the documents and wax stamps that once captivated him to roam appreciatively over the conservatively clad bodies of concubines and maids and even female diplomats who were visiting on “strictly business.” He’d gotten a taste; and he needed more. Before long, there was hardly ever a woman who set foot inside the Haitani manor who didn’t leave with rosy cheeks and their dignity chewed up and spat back down their throat.

He supposes that his transformation into a vampire is divine justice–a cruel form of retribution to make him suffer for delighting in the affections of women without a care for the broken hearts they would inevitably endure, for beguiling them into slipping beneath his sheets with empty promises of forever exchanged between gasps of pleasure. Because, now that his blood no longer flows, he can no longer indulge his own desires. Sometimes, it makes him laugh. But, from bewilderment and disbelief or melancholy amusement, he never knows.

“You win, Rindou,” Ran sighs. Without a moment of hesitation, his own solo cup plummets from his fingers and hits the floor, ruby-red liquid splashing forth and pooling near his boots. With the ungodly mess of vomit and trash already littering the wooden floorboards, he figures that another “spilled drink” couldn’t possibly hurt. It tasted like shit, anyway.

His willowy physique allows him to slip through the throng with ease, minimizing the time he spends brushing shoulders with sweaty college students who are barely old enough to legally drink. The stagnant scent of perspiration, body odor, and weed embitters his tongue and causes his nose to wrinkle. Sometimes, he wonders if Rindou pushes him into these situations just to get on his nerves. And, seeing as how it’s been just the two of them for a few centuries, he supposes that such an assumption isn’t too far-fetched.

The feeling of something colliding with his chest halts him, and his eyes flicker down to meet a pair of wide eyes rimmed with thick, false lashes imbued with tinges of scarlet. You blink owlishly up at him, hands lifted to shield your nose as if in pain. Must’ve just left the fray, Ran muses after noting the light sheen of sweat beading on your skin and the slight heaving of your chest.

“Whoa,” Ran’s voice is light, breezy, yet he makes no move to balance you as you wobble unsteadily upon a pair of glittery, black stilettos. Why would he? You’re disgusting. You reek of alcohol and cheap perfume, not to mention the layers of other people that rubbed off on you while you were dancing.

“Sorry!” Your hands fall away from your face. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.” And, just like that, you bounce back like a rubber band, a ditsy, carefree smile crossing your lips as if you hadn’t just nearly busted your nose on the chest of a stranger.

“You good?” Ran’s lips tilt into a coy grin at the sight of your wince.

“Oh, yeah! I—whoa!” Your eyes glitter when they fall upon the mauve, silk button-down draped over his body. He doesn’t stop you when you start to mindlessly reach out to him, clearly itching to feel the material and assess the quality yourself.

Your fingers dance up to his sleeves, seemingly emboldened by the adrenaline crackling like electricity in the atmosphere and the shadow of anonymity granted by the low lights. You tug at the loose material without an ounce of shame or wariness. Ran can practically see dollar signs glowing in your dilated pupils as you continue to touch and pinch at the fabric with no regards to him being a complete stranger. “What are you dressed up as? I’ve never seen anything like this before.” He doesn’t answer immediately. Rather, his eyes lid with amusement when your sparkly eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at the sight of black ink, stark and bold against his skin tone, curving and dipping beneath prominent collarbones. The doe fascination in your gaze doesn’t go unnoticed, even as you turn your attention back to his sleeves.

“I’m not dressed up as anything.” Ran does his best to quiet the snide chuckle rumbling in his throat. Instead, he tilts his head, wrists crooking up to graze his fingertips over the pulse thumping in your wrist. Your heart rate is elevated, but only barely. What truly ensnares his attention is the rise and fall of your veins against your skin–how he can practically hear and feel the coursing of your blood if he concentrates hard enough. You’re warm–alive.

But, you don’t have to be.

As he hums thoughtfully and glides one finger along the length of one of your veins, he can’t help but wonder what expression would contort that sweet, little face of yours if you were to watch your own blood gush uncontrollably from your wrist. Would your eyelids flutter and your eyes roll back as you lost consciousness? Would you cry and panic? Would you plead with him for help?

“What are you talking about?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, just as bubbly and light-hearted and tooth-rottingly sweet as he’d remembered. You’re cute. Cute enough to ruin. Cute enough for him to eat alive. “It’s a costume party! You have to dress up!” You beam. “I know the person throwing the party, so maybe she has an extra witch hat or something that you can borrow!”

“Nah, you don’t have to worry about me,” Ran shakes his head. He inclines his head, closing the distance between you until his eyes are level with yours. His smile is faint, a mere phantom. “What about you, darling? All this… What’re you supposed to be?”

“A vampire!”

Ran’s grin falters at your chirped answer. If you had told him that you were dressed up as a cat, he would’ve been more inclined to believe you, regardless of the absence of ears and whiskers. Because from your feather-trimmed corset to the black, faux-leather miniskirt clinging so tightly to your legs he swears he can almost perceive the details of your bone structure through the fabric–not a single aspect of your so-called costume can be classified as vampirical. In fact, you missed the mark so drastically that it’s almost pitiful.

“I see.” Ran offers a slight smile that’s just as fake as the spatter of blood dripping from the corner of your lips. He was right. He shouldn’t have bothered to come tonight. There’s nothing for him here except constant assaults on his heightened senses and filthy blood that he wouldn’t even wash his feet with.

If he didn’t know any better, he would claim that you’d fallen victim to the glorification of famous lore and ghost stories; but, based on the undisguised desire gleaming in your otherwise vacant eyes as you focus on his tattoo again, he can tell that there isn’t a single original thought bouncing around in that pretty, little head of yours. Your teeth sink into the plush flesh of your bottom lip as you risk a glance up at his face through a fan of feathery lashes, a tiny, secretive smile gracing your features. At this point, it’s blatantly obvious that you want to fuck him, or at least see him stripped down. You aren’t even making any attempt to hide it.

And, to think, you don’t even know his name.

You’re just like the rest of them. You’re too trusting. You don’t even flinch when his fingernail dents the soft skin of your inner wrist. One puncture of his fingernail would be all it takes to give way to a stunning spray of crimson that never fails to cause saliva to coalesce on the cusp of his tongue and his eyes to glow with something volatile–something horrifying. Meanwhile, you’re too much of an imbecile to notice.

But, God… what Ran wouldn’t give to be as stupid as you. His finger presses down on your wrist a tiny bit harder, his disappointment and fatigue envenoming. Unfortunately, to be free of the curse of immortality is not an option… for everything he thought he knew about vampires turned out to be nothing more than a lie.

Cannot die by the stake.

“Do you like it?” Your smile is bright, and you lean forward until there’s a mere hairsbreadth of space between your chest and his. Still, Ran doesn’t waver–doesn’t make a move to either close or broaden the remaining distance. He remains motionless, his back leaning against the wall. “My roommate told me that I was showing too much skin, but I think it’s cute.”

At this, Ran openly chuckles. He hates you. He fucking hates you. Your outfit is cheap and so is the price for access between your legs, yet you possess the one thing that Ran could never hope to obtain, even with every penny of his family’s fortune. It isn’t fair. “It suits you well.” The sting of his fingernail is alleviated by a quick, soothing swipe of his thumb over the indentation. He should kill you. He wants to, but even he has his reservations about killing women. Your smile… You make him sick.

Cannot die by the sun.

If nothing else, he wants to see you cry. You’d look so pretty, so utterly broken with mascara-tinted tears streaming down your cheeks and twin puncture wounds nestled right in the curve of your collarbone. A mark like that, it would never fade–a permanent reminder of the weakness that walks hand-in-hand with your humanity, the one thing Ran envies the most. You’d be a prettier crier, he’s certain. Even if you aren’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like he’d have an erection to lose.

Cannot be burned by garlic.

He despises you.

Cannot be scarred by the crucifix.

He soon discovers that the toll one must pay to have you eagerly stumbling up the stairs in search of a bedroom is a silver tongue and a voice as dark and sultry as bourbon. He’d expected a bit of resistance or at least an attempt to prove that you aren’t as blindly naive as you portray yourself to be; but, you’d floated into his snare like a moth to flame, so bewitched by the darkness pooling in his gaze that you never noticed your paper wings beginning to char and flake away.

A finger propped under your chin to connect your gazes was all it took to seal the deal, the supernatural charm he’d obtained as a replacement for his sexual desires having melted away the remainder of your dignity until you were reduced to nothing more than a slack-jawed, glassy-eyed sex doll before his very eyes. But, when he skeptically angled your face this way and that as you giggled and called him silly, he noticed that you barely looked any different than before.

Cannot be wounded by holy water.

The grip you have locked on Ran’s wrist is desperate as you drag him into an empty room branching off the upstairs hallway–a dull bedroom that already reeks of sin and sex.

“Empty,” your voice is barely more than a breathless whisper as you press close to him, barely giving him enough time to shut the door in your wake before your nimble fingers start popping away at the buttons adorning the front of his shirt.

“No time,” Ran’s hands lift to bat yours away. When you blink up at him with a dissatisfied pout puckering your lips, he’s quick to seize your jaw, tilting your head up with such careless force that it sweeps the bratty glower right off your face. You must be out of your damn mind if you think he’s going to waste time stripping himself down for someone like you. “You wanted to fuck, right?” You do your best to nod, and his lips split into a lazy grin. “Then, hurry up. On your knees for me.”

“But…” you hesitate, glassy irises flickering longingly toward the ebony ink arching over the top of his shirt collar. “Can I–please?”

“Make me cum, and I’ll think about it.” His hand releases you and shifts to the top of your head, a light push prompting you to sink to your knees and reach for his belt. You chew on your bottom lip to conceal a smile of excitement, painted fingernails clinking against the metal buckle with a sense of urgency that you should find embarrassing.

But, you aren’t exactly in your right mind now, are you? Or, maybe you are. Maybe the charm has no effect on you and you truly are a little slut, just like he thought.

His assumption is further cemented in his head at the look in your eyes when you finally free his cock from his black jeans and delicately wrap your hands around his girth. Your hands are warm, dainty and soft and dusted with a fine, sparkly powder that was undoubtedly shed from your corset. He can sense the spiking of your heart rate, see the electricity humming and buzzing against your fingertips reflected in pupils that flicker between his flaccid cock and heavy balls as if you aren’t sure which one you want to suck on first. You don’t flinch at his lack of an erection despite all of the teasing touches you exchanged downstairs–in fact, you seem to perceive it as a challenge to look forward to.

“You’re so cold!” You gasp at the feeling of his skin–frigid and tight–under your hands. The glance you cast up at him is so earnest and innocent and concerned that he almost scoffs with disbelief. Virtuous and kind with an angelic touch and the devil simmering on your tongue, pretending that you care about his well-being purely for your own benefit. What a class act.

“I’ll warm you up, don’t worry.” Your tongue lolls out, stained blood-red from your drink, and flattens against the base of his cock before tracing upward in a bold lick. You don’t bother to tease him, the electric ambiance of the party raging just beyond the locked door a glaring reminder that you both are fucking on borrowed time. Your lips suction around the head of his cock, the tip of your tongue prodding at and gliding over the slit that you’d expected to be leaking by now. “Hmm,” you murmur.

Ran heaves a heavy sigh; and, based on the way you stiffen at the ambiguity of his response to your ministrations, it’s clear that self-consciousness is already beginning to nibble at the far corners of your mind. He didn’t expect to start breaking you down so early. Maybe this means he can head home early.

By now, Ran figures he should be used to the chill of the air that clings to his skin in the wake of saliva laved over his cock, especially due to his own lack of body heat. Still, the light stream of cool air you blow over the tip of his cock sends a shiver skittering up his spine, and your eyes shine with pride at his reaction. He lowers his hand to the top of your head, stroking your hair once before threading his fingers through the loose strands. “Dunno what you’re so happy about,” he gives a light tug and a snicker, “I’m not even hard yet.”

It’s a cruel game–watching you struggle to make him hard when he knows damn well there’s no blood circulation in his body. But, he quite enjoys the transformation almost all of his sexual partners go through once they realize that they’ve failed to turn him on. Brazen satisfaction always warms his throat like fine wine at the tantalizing sight of the eager, tenacious glint in their eyes dimming to something akin to insecurity and their coquettish smiles twisting into wobbly pouts slathered with their own spit.

You’ve already hit the first stage–frustration. There’s a newfound vigor in your movements as you dip your head to the base of his cock and a crease in your brow that definitely wasn’t there before. Your throat constricts, pillowy and velvet-soft, around his cock, but he doesn’t even stir on your tongue. Spit spills from the corners of your lips and dribbles down your chin; but, you persevere, bobbing your head with hollowed cheeks, even as it drools onto the soft, crescent mounds of your breasts peeking over the neckline of the corset. You’re becoming sloppier by the minute, mascara-dark tears and vermillion-tinted saliva dripping from your chin with each slick glide of your lips over his shaft.

He can only imagine the scandalized glances you’d receive once he sends you back downstairs, knees bruised to hell and lipstick smudged beyond repair. The glue lining your false lashes has begun to weaken, and as you blink tearfully up at him, he can already see them beginning to peel away at the corners. After a few more fruitless, desperate bobs of your head, Ran tightens his grip on your hair and forcefully yanks you off with a crude pop! of your lips. The tip of his cock slaps against your chin as you remove your mouth. His shaft is tinted with tinges of dark red that must’ve smeared off your lips when you took him down your throat, his balls crowned with a ring the same color.

You gape in disbelief when his cock bows back down between his legs, still as soft as it had been when you first started. “B-But… How is–That’s not…”

“What?” His laugh is cutting, critical. “Don’t tell me that’s the best you could do.” Ran licks his teeth, feigning disappointment. “ Ah, well,” he releases your hair and gives a breezy, dismissive wave of his hand. “If you can’t do it, then you can’t do it. I wasn’t feeling it, anyhow.”

“No!” You protest, shuffling closer on your knees. “It’s not my fault! I–”

“Oh,” Ran’s eyes glint. Interesting. “So, you’re saying it’s my fault?”

After a moment of mulling over his words, your eyes round with horror at the realization of how your objection was perceived. You shake your head wildly in denial. “I’m not saying that, either!” It’s torture. Your poor, little brain is operating on overtime, the cogs behind your eyes rotating so fervently that he swears he can see smoke clouding behind your eyes and spilling from your ears. You’re frustrated, embarrassed, perplexed–it’s all too much for you to process, and neither the alcohol you ingested nor the supernatural hold he established over you is making it any easier for you.

The overflow manifests in a fresh round of murky tears pearling on your lash line. Your sticky lips part again, but all that spills forth is a string of explanations and apologies jumbled beyond coherency. “No, I’m–I’m just saying that it’s… no… No, I don’t… I’m…”

Ran doesn’t respond, but the boredom hazing his eyes speaks volumes. It’s enough to shatter your resolve, and you wilt, shoulders sagging, beneath his condescending, borderline disgusted sneer. All at once, the sniffling and babbling gives way to a flood of tears that cascades down your cheeks and encases your eyes in the most darling reflection of suffering and torment he’s ever seen. He was right. You are a pretty crier.

“You tried your best, didn’t you?” He coos, but his smile is too wide for it to be anything other than patronizing. You nod slowly, and he grips his cock in his own hand before shifting forward to tap the head against your lips. Your jaw lowers automatically, yet there’s an unspoken question in your eyes–a question whose answer is presented in the tangling of his fingers through your hair and the ruthless shove of your head down on his cock.

Your eyes barely have time to widen in shock before he has your nose pressed flush against his pelvis and the tip of his cock nestled snugly against the back of your tender throat. “For someone desperate enough to drop their panties for a stranger, you seem to have a bit of a mouth on you, sweetheart.” His forehead creases, a small, breathy laugh huffing from his chest. “Hurts my feelings, y’know–blaming me ‘cause you can’t suck me off right. Wasted my time… The least you can do is clean your fuckin’ lipstick off my dick.”

Your throat convulses and spasms around the intrusion in an attempt to expel him, but Ran’s grip is unrelenting, keeping you pinned there with little more than a flicker of intrigue in his gaze and a click of his tongue. But, even as you choke and sputter around his girth, a new wave of saliva bubbling around the tight suction of your lips and slithering down your chin; your hands lift, manicured nails biting into his thighs to steady yourself rather than shove him away. Your eyes are squeezed shut and you’re shaking, but you dutifully keep your jaw slack and tongue pliant. For how pathetic you appeared before, it seems that your spark hasn’t gone out completely.

His other hand lifts from its place at his side to pinch at your nose, cutting off the remainder of your airway. Your eyes round to an almost comical size, and a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest when you begin to writhe and struggle, bare knees thudding against the floor and fingernails digging even further into his thighs. You splutter around him, but all he can focus on is the delicious sting of your nails embedded in his flesh. Maybe you are good for something.

He speaks once, voice low and controlled. “Wouldn’t be wise of you to act like a slut if you can’t follow through, don’t you agree?” With that, he snatches you by the hair and pulls you off, simultaneously relinquishing his grasp on your nose. As soon as your airway is unobstructed, your head lolls forward, trembling hands braced on your thighs as you choke and cough and gulp greedily at the oxygen he’d stolen from you. Tapered, translucent strings of saliva connect your lips to his tip, and he notices that the wine-red stain on his cock has paled considerably, now overlain with a layer of bubbled saliva that glistens in the mellow light of the bedroom.

“There ‘ya go,” Ran coos. “Come on,” he pats your cheek twice, just hard enough to cause your head to roll limply to the side and an intelligible murmur to drip from your lips. “Can’t pass out on me just yet.”

He has half a mind to pull up his pants and leave you slumped on the ground, but the moment your head tips back and he snags a glimpse of your dazed expression and languid, blissful smile, he makes his decision.

Fuck the party.

“Up.” Ran’s hands close around your upper arms and hoist you to your feet. Your heels clack against the wooden flooring, and your legs wobble; but, with Ran’s helping hand on your waist, you manage to balance yourself. He doesn’t speak when he guides you over to the full-length mirror propped up against the wall beside an old, rickety vanity. You stumble your way in front of him, all wide, unsuspecting doe eyes, tousled hair, and pretty tits shimmering with perspiration.

“What are you doing?” Your voice is weak and scratchy from the abuse your throat endured. The bold, dramatic makeup you’d clearly taken great care in applying is all but ruined, your foundation streaked through with saliva and charcoal liner reduced to black splotches beneath eyes puffy with shed tears. Still, a certain gleam of anticipation in your eye cuts through the fog of exhaustion.

“I,” Ran lowers his head just enough for his cold lips to ghost over the shell of your ear. You shiver, “am feeling generous today. So, ‘m gonna get you all stretched out on my fingers, and you’re gonna watch me do it. Okay?” Despite his inquiry, the way he speaks is matter-of-fact, simple and leaving no room for argument.

He takes a moment to analyze your disheveled appearance–to relish the influence he holds over you–in the reflection of the mirror before his lithe fingers close around the satin ribbons tethering the front of your corset together. He doesn’t even spare you a glance as he unravels them; but, he doesn’t need to, based on the way you slightly arch your back to display your chest in a silent invitation. He makes quick work of your miniskirt, sliding it off to cast it beside your corset.

You don’t bother to kick off your heels, and he doesn’t care to ask you to. A light scoff feathers over the top of your head at the exposure of a pair of lacy, scarlet panties, but he doesn’t dwell on your selection too long. What stupidity, his middle finger slides over the fabric along the length of your pussy. Your soft lips split beneath his touch, and he hums pensively at the damp fabric that makes up the seat of your panties. You twitch away from him with a gasp, but he’s quick to pull you back, anchoring to him with a firm arm looped around your waist. He can feel the heat emanating off your cunt through the material, and the more pressure he applies to the finger nestled between your folds, the more sodden the lace becomes as it soaks up all of the slick.

“What a joke,” Ran cracks a grin, “you get wet from suckin’ cock, is that right?” A low whine is all he receives in response. Your clit throbs, swollen and hot, beneath his fingertip, and your hips tilt up demandingly in search of friction. “Stay still.” His finger grinds down mercilessly, and your hips cant backward at the sudden burst of stimulation. Pride swells in his chest when you obey, an unsteady breath shuddering through your lips. “Now,” his teeth graze over the shell of your ear, “I believe I asked you a question.”

“What..?” You peek up at his reflection, crystalline droplets adorning your faux lashes.

“What?” Ran mimics your pathetic squeak. His tone smooths into a honeyed drawl, sleazy and languid. “I asked you if you get wet takin’ cock down your throat.” His fingers hook around the seat of your panties and pull it to the side to reveal a set of puffy folds coated with a sheen of arousal. “‘Cause it sure seems like it, princess.” All he did was tap your little clit, and you’re already dripping like a broken faucet.

Already so messy–so disgustingly, embarrassingly messy–for someone whose name is still a mystery to you. The heady scent of your pheromones is borderline addicting as it glazes his tongue in thick layers and causes his head to swirl with an almost aphrodisiacal haze. He wants to despise you, to revel in the sick delight he’d derive from dumping you on the floor and leaving you for someone else to deal with–but, fuck, if your fragrance isn’t as intoxicating as a single drop of ambrosia gracing a mortal tongue.

Powerlessness, weakness–two things he desired most before setting foot in this room with you. But, now, as you blink pitifully up at him, completely oblivious, those two things serve as the catalyst for a brand new type of hatred–one that’s white-hot and searing, scorching away every shred of the sense of achievement he’d pieced together for himself. You know he’s starting to slip. You have to. You find it pathetic, don’t you? You’re probably laughing at him behind those big, stupid, teary eyes, scorning his inability to maintain the same power he once wielded over you.

You think it’s fucking funny, don’t you?

Don’t you?

And, you… you have the gall to glance away from the carnal scene unfolding before you–to look away from the mess between your thighs he’s so graciously indulging. His hand shoots away from your waist before you can react, skipping over your exposed breasts to roughly clasp your jaw. You yelp when his fingertips dig into your cheeks so forcefully that your lips pucker, and your eyes round with shock when he jerks your head forward. “Look.” His voice is still syrupy-smooth, a sickly-sweet drone that’s so sticky you can’t do anything but comply, body frozen stiff and eyes acquiescently drifting back to the apex of your thighs. Well, he relaxes slightly, looks like you really can listen.

“I do…” Your confession is small, riddled with shame.

“Or… maybe you just like being talked down to.” Ran hums. Your eyes flit away again, and your shoulders tense. His eyes twinkle. Bingo. “Relax, will you?” He purrs. “I was just joking.”

When his middle and ring finger finally break past the rim of muscle and sink into your cunt, your reaction is instantaneous. Your toes curl in your high heels, hips rocking down to meet him halfway, gummy walls sucking him in further and further until his palm grazes your puffy clit. “More–! More, please,” you whimper.

“Greedy, ain’t she?” Ran’s eyes fall from yours, eyebrows raised slightly as he eyes the way your cunt swallows up his fingers with ease. He begins an unhurried pace, slim, calloused fingertips curving to nuzzle up against your sweet spot with each push. Your body spasms once at the initial stimulation, but soon your head is falling back against his chest with a string of soft moans and tangled pleas. He kisses his teeth. “Slutty fuckin’ pussy–it doesn’t even matter who fucks her, does it? Just as long as she gets all nice n’ stretched out.”

He knows it isn’t enough for you to orgasm, but that doesn’t stop him from feigning surprise when you start swiveling your hips again, your movements sloppy yet possessing just enough rhythm to occasionally meet his thrusts. Pearlescent desire drools from your velvet walls, trickling down his hand to soak the cuff of his sleeve and soil the expensive material. The fingernails of one hand sink into the arm wrapped around your waist, your other hand moving to adeptly pluck and twist at your pebbled nipples. You’re the picturesque image of insatiable lust, each ethereal moan and lilt in your voice accented with a note of sacred sublimity that’s only wasted on someone like you–someone who knows nothing of decency and is willing to hand out samples of the slice of heaven between your legs to whoever happens to catch your eye.

If things were different–if he were different–he figures that he wouldn’t have minded taking you in as a concubine. But, times have changed; and, he knows he’ll never see you again after tonight. He’ll be damned if you ever forget him. He’s better than that. If he isn’t fit to be given the sweet release of death, then you aren’t fit to live without the constant fear of death.

“Faster,” your nails dig into his sleeve. “Need’a… Need to cum!”

Without a word, Ran’s pace hastens. His fingers plunge in and out of you, the squelching of your drenched cunt threatening to overpower your cries at the feeling of his fingertips hammering away at your sweet spot, slender digits curling imposingly to abuse the area over and over and over. Fine. If you want to cum so badly, then he’ll give it to you. But, surely you must know that with every take, there is a give.

With a thumb massaging pressured circles on your clit, he drives you to your orgasm so abruptly that you barely have time to scream before you crest the peak and come crashing down, creaming sweet milky-white around his fingers and knees buckling so sharply that Ran has to fumble his hold on you to keep you from collapsing. His teeth grit. A wail is ripped from your throat, loud enough to attract the attention of any potential passersby yet pornographic enough to inform everyone of what sinful deeds are being enacted beyond the closed door. Your heels clack loudly as you struggle to regain control of your body. Your release drips around his fingers, glossy pebbles of ivory dappling mauve satin.

“Shh,” Ran shushes you, clasping you tight to support your weight until the trembling of your legs ceases and your breathing begins to even out. His fingers remain buried in your pussy, and you twitch and whine when his fingers start to stir slowly within you once more. “I know, I know,” he coos. “You’re fine.”

Once he’s positive you won’t crumple to the floor, he moves his hand away from your waist, fingers painfully gentle as they brush away the strands of hair obscuring your neck. If he were anyone else–if the only part of you he didn’t loathe wasn’t that sloppy fucking pussy of yours–the gesture could’ve been mistaken as affectionate. But, even as he meets the fucked-out hearts blossoming in your eyes with a light smile of his own, he feels nothing but pity for you–pity that morphs into a delicious interest when his lips part, flashing you a glimpse of a set of canines elongating from his gums, and the bliss clouding your eyes dissipates in a moment of sobriety.

The realization is slow–the pool of uncertainty giving way to cold realization that floods those pretty eyes of yours with horror, the gradual wilting of your smile sinking into a gape of disbelief, the loosening of your grip on him before releasing him altogether. It’s glorious. All you can do is watch, frozen with shock, and listen to the sickening crackling and snapping of ligaments and tissue as his canines grow longer and longer.

“What’s wrong?” Ran hums, yet the mock hurt gleaming in his eyes betrays the slight–borderline imperceptible–yet sinister curl of his lips. “Don’t like me anymore?”

“How did you..?” You whisper, unblinking as you stare at his ajar lips. A light sheen of tears glazes your eyes, but not a single one falls. “Look… I don’t know what you want, but… Please, don’t hurt me.” When all he does is tap a finger against your throat, appearing to mull over your request, you continue tentatively. “You’re not… What are you?”

“Exactly what you pretend to be.” He answers smoothly. “But, unfortunately for you, I’m real.”

“Oh, God…” Your voice trembles.

“God’s nowhere near this place, darlin’.” His smile turns rueful, almost melancholy. “He can’t hear you.”

Your eyes flicker to the door, and all he needs to feel is the tensing of your muscles for the hand that so delicately swept your hair aside to close mercilessly around your throat. You gasp, only to stiffen when the tips of his nails prick at the exposed skin of your neck in a tacit warning. “Call for help, and I’ll kill you.” His voice is controlled, easy, as if he were reminding you of a dentist appointment. “You’ve been such a good girl up until now. It would be such a waste to slit your throat so soon.”

You nod fervently, but he doesn’t miss the way your cunt seems to drool a little more around the fingers still stuffed up your cunt. No fucking way. He scoffs at the conflicted glimmer in your eyes as you keep your attention locked on the hand around your throat. When he first selected you as his victim, the last thing he’d expected was for you to find being threatened with death by a supernatural creature arousing. But, thinking back on how ready you were to offer yourself up to him on a silver platter, the odds don’t seem to be as low.

“But, if you really want to leave,” Exactly how far can he push you? “I’ll let you. You say the word, and we’ll leave this room and go our separate ways. I won’t try to stop you.” You hesitate, and he leans closer, fingertips twitching inside you in a way that has you briefly glancing down at where he has you all spread open with your cum leaking down his wrist. “Go on,” he’s goading you now, “tell me to pull my fingers out, and you can walk right out that door.”

But, you don’t.

Instead, your pussy answers for you, clenching needily around his fingers while a shaky breath is huffed from your lips. It’s as if you’re preparing yourself–preparing yourself for the moment you lift your eyes back to him and face his shit-eating grin. Preparing yourself for the moment you tell a dangerous entity that you don’t actually want him to stop.

“Hm?” He’s insufferable, and he knows that somewhere underneath the layers of lust and apprehension, you feel the same way. “You aren’t gonna leave?” You shake your head, but it’s small and still stiff with uncertainty.

“I can’t hear you,” he coos. “Use your words for me.”

“No.” It’s weak, but it’s definitive. It’s clear you have no intention of leaving–of denying yourself another orgasm.

“I see.” Is all he says. With that, he sinks his fingers further into the sticky mess of your cunt and begins working you a second time. Remnants of your previous orgasm gush around his fingers, cling to his palm, and drip from his knuckles in strings—nacreous rivulets that thin and thicken with each push and pull of his fingers. While you tremble and squeal in his hold, the only thing grounding you is the hand coiled around your throat, the coldness of his skin keeping you tethered to reality despite your dwindling air supply. You don’t seem bothered in the least by the knowledge of his inhumanity, your eyes rolling too far back in your pleasure-clouded mind to worry about anything other than pursuing your next orgasm.

“‘S good!” You mewl. Your eyes flutter shut when his thumb dips down to roughly knead and rub at your slippery clit. “I’m–so close! Please, wanna cum again!”

“When you couldn’t even get me hard?” Ran muses, curling his fingers up to nestle them against the sweet spot he’s already committed to memory. “What’s in it for me?”

“I can try again!” Desperation creeps into your voice, and you squeeze around his fingers as if you fear him pulling out and leaving you unsatisfied. It may not be fear of death, but it’s a fear of something, he supposes.

“I don’t think so.” Ran eases his grip on your neck and lowers his head to the junction where your neck slopes delicately into your shoulder. “You’ll just look like a fuckin’ fool again.” A sudden, violent spasm of your body has his fangs grazing over the skin shielding your carotid, and he grins when you flinch reflexively. “Careful, now. Move too much, and I might pierce an artery. Wouldn’t be much fun for either of us if you bleed out on the floor.”

You nod quickly, only to follow up your acknowledgement with a whimper of, “‘M gonna make a mess!” It’s as if your brain is stuffed with cotton–so much so that you genuinely can’t focus on anything else, even the potential harm you just faced.

You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so it’s far easier to send you careening over the edge the second time. But, the moment you land on the brink of your orgasm–the moment he feels your muscles tense and your pussy start to cream around his fingers–his fangs puncture your skin. The scream that tears free from you is high-pitched and stippled with hiccups, but the palm he claps over your mouth muffles it to keep you from alerting any hallway loiterers. His teeth embed themselves deeper in the juncture with a crude squelch that’s sickeningly similar to the one between your legs. Beads of ruby pebble around the circumference of the bite marks and trickle down your chest to web over your breasts like liquid shibari.

You taste different than he’d imagined–but, it isn’t necessarily an earth-shattering difference. The salt from the sweat glistening on your skin is potent, nearly overpowering the hints of alcohol detectable in your blood. Your taste is bitter, but so is everyone else’s. The only difference is the underlying trace of sweetness, reminiscent of the honey-flavored hard candy he used to steal from the commoner’s market with Rindou at his side. Things were so simple back then–back then when he was just like you, naive and ignorant to the dangers looming over his shoulder. His wicked grin withers at the nostalgia evoked by the taste; and, before he knows it, he’s pressing his fingers deeper into you with one hand and seizing you tightly by the shoulder with the other.

The sentiment of the taste sears his tongue and singes the back of his throat with memories he spent so long suppressing in an attempt to cope; yet, somehow, he can’t stop himself from swallowing down mouthful after mouthful of your blood, letting himself endure the sting of the past until his tongue numbs and your taste is no longer as addictive. He wants to blame you for snatching the rug from beneath his feet, but he’s well aware that not even you could have known. Still, that doesn’t curb the anger swelling in his chest, as misguided and volatile as it may be. It’s another reason for him to hate you, but…

Unlike how he dealt with every other reason you gave him to despise your existence, why is he now the one who feels as if he can’t breathe—as if he’s being suffocated and everything is beyond his control?

Why not you?

While he has the fate of your pleasure resting in his palm, you have his entirety strung up like a marionette, bittersweet memories and truths he’s refused to acknowledge coiling around his joints and forcing his body to dance this way and that until he has no choice but to bend to your will, lest his restraints cut into his skin until all of his emotions and secrets pour forth from the incisions in sin-black and wine-red. Everything he did that you hadn’t encouraged him to do did nothing but slash open more lines along his body. The more he bleeds with truth, the more fatigue and weakness settle in, which means the more he risks falling apart while three knuckles deep inside you.

Things are changing. You’re different. You’re different, and he hates it.

Your release is different, too. This time, it manifests in a gush of clear liquid that sprays from your cunt and splashes against his palm, coating his skin in a gloss of melted diamond. A sob wracks your body at the onslaught of overstimulation, tears washing down your face and trickling over the fingers glued to your lips as you jerk and twitch uncontrollably in his hold. Your legs shuffle together in an attempt to ward off the fingers still plunging into your cunt with reckless abandon, but you’re far too weak to stop him, especially in your vulnerable state. All you can do is dig your nails into his wrists and thrash feebly in his hold in hopes that he’ll notice your distress; but, before long, even your wails are drowned out by the obscene sloshing of the fingers delving into your leaking cunt and the spatter of your squirt raining down onto the floor between your legs.

It isn’t until your nails carve into his skin and rake across his arm when the pleasure shifts into pain that he finally lets you go, yanking his fingers out of your cunt with a lewd squish and peeling himself away from you. You’re left to collapse to your knees with a dull thud, and you plant your hands on floorboards slick with your own fluids in an attempt to catch your breath. You’re trembling like a leaf in the wind, and you wince every time your thighs so much as brush together.

“You should get yourself cleaned up.” His voice is dismissive despite the way his eyes frequently flicker back to you–to the twin dots pierced through the skin on your shoulder. He pulls the corner of a tucked bed sheet from under the mattress and uses it to wipe off his hand and wrist.

Neither of you speak as you slowly start to clothe yourself and he adjusts his attire. It isn’t because he doesn’t know what to say, though. In fact, it’s because even something as simple as asking how you feel would cause his tongue to sour with revulsion and hatred. So, he may see more of himself in you than he originally thought. So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he won’t ever see you again, nor does it lessen the ache that he’s positive is pulsating between your legs. He doesn’t want to see you again. He doesn’t want to be stripped and laid bare for his own critique at the silent hands of a drunk college student ever again.

He only says two words to you right before he shuts the door behind him and severs the only remaining connection between you; and, even then, they’re snide. Condescending. Eerie.

“Happy Halloween.”

taglist: @haitaini @ilyoimiya @n-akaharachuuya @tohokuu

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sagephilosophie · 14 days

Text

ROYAL REQUEST

┆RINDOU H.

Chapter I : Rindou's Lover 「Masterlist」

꩜ Chapter Tags ▸ NSFW, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff and Smut, Safe Sane and Consensual sex, Love Confessions, First Times, Birthday Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Breeding, Aftercare, Mutual Pining, Rindou being a simp, Some political speech, Ran haitani being a spoiled brat, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence (But only in a one sentence and that's it), Minor Character Death, Bonten arc appearance Haitanis, Arranged Marriage.

꩜ Word Count ▸ 7260

"Good morning, your grace", Rindou heard that from one of the maids as to get him to start his day, while two others were making way for the sun to shine through his chamber, getting the curtains out of the way. Which woke him up.

The young royal stretched out a bit, before scanning his surroundings, dreamy purple eyes landed on the maids, one already carrying a robe for him, the others standing still untill his movement off the bed to change the sheets and get to cleaning.

He slackly got off the velvet mattress, turning his muscular back to the maid letting her to put the robe on him.

"Are my father and brother up ?"

"His majesty and the prince are in the dining hall waiting for your arrival"

"Have they been waiting for long ?"

"Not at all, your grace", Rindou chanted a 'hum' of approval before sliding off the maid and signaling her to take her leave.

"Good morning, father", Rindou sat by the side of the king at a long rectangular table cornered with empty chairs, only three of them were filled, it had all what a human could think of containing appetizing meals and even far additions for supplies that wouldn't cross a mind; from all the fresh food and beverage found from the best of the best from all inches of the world, and the young duke finds himself distressed; it's a huge waste, yet he maintains grateful toward the fortune he was gifted, promising to use it for the greater good,

"Ran.", It's how he salutes his brother who just stared at him sluggishly, he had no idea how this man ahead of him is meant to be the crown prince with his laziness. Scratch that, how did he win over the entire kingdom effortlessly is what bothered the young duke. But he paid him no mind.

"Good morning, Rindou", the aged king greets back, half focused on his son, struggling to fill the silver plate ahead of him. Father Haitani was once a handsome young monarch desired by all the women across the kingdoms, and debatably, exceeds his sons' charm, alas his god-gifted youth consumed by time left him grey and ailing.

"Say, son," Rindou had an idea where this was going, "any luck of meeting the future mother of my grandchildren....", 'This again...' Rindou thinks, "...while im still alive ?", The king took a bite of his silver plate therefore allowing the royal brothers to begin their breakfast.

He sighs 'why aren't these question addressed to Ran'. It's these little converstation starters like this that gets Rindou's bitterness towards the first born haitani, and his own insecurities, sharpened. The way his brother is free from expectations and observations makes it clear how favored he is.

"No, father, i already told you im more concentrated in my position"

"You know as royals, marriage serve us heirs", his father kept eye talking with his second son and stopped eating, "without future rulers, the kingdom our ancestors worked hard to build will turn into ashes"

Rindou hated it, when his father will turn a blind eye to his hard work into improving their land and serving the poeple, overlooking the positive outcome of his role as a duke, Only to give him more unnecessary missions that'll only harm him and do nothing for his or the others' sake.

"The family i'll make will not be any necessary addition for the monarchy, isn't that Ran's duties ?"

"Your brother is already meant to marry from a nearby kingdom, his future and ours have already been secured thanks to his early decision", the younger Haitani felt his blood boiling to the indirect comparison the King is making, "but then how about you, son ?"

Rindou found himself slaming the corner of the table that was infront of him while getting up. There have been a rigid silence for a while with the Duke composing his breath and sanity, whilst his father's eyes are piercing through him.

"I'll take my leave now, i have some arrangements today, now if you excuse me", forcing himself back to his unruffled nature, he excused himself out of the dining hall.

He had better places to be.

Right near his beloved princess.

Rindou sat on the moving carriage, relying on counting the decreasing time until they reach his destination, but the orchestrated action was eventually forgotten by the royal, eyes fixed on his territory slowly pass out of his sight.

It'll be an understatement to say he loved his land, Rindou had a tender spot for his homeland, he and his brother have been raised with a mutual aim, to rule the Roppongi kingdom and keep the legacy everlasting.

That very thought kept the flame inside the Duke to burn brighter and it have been lightning up the darkest points of the crown.

Neither commoners nor nobility could deny how well his job is done, Rindou have been an example of a true hardworking leader, thanks to his formulated plannings - and most importantly, determination - he had developed his domain into a powerful estate, just like how he envisioned, yet there was always room for improvement in Rindou's side.

The younger Haitani takes his duties by heart, he adores the Roppongi kingdom and its wonders, and the day he was entitled as a duke, have made an oath to himself and all the active participants in progressing their empire, that he'll dedicate his life for his land and only use his authorities to benefit the nation.

Rindou had to admit he have felt undesrving of his privileges at first, yet over time he overcame that thought by understanding that without his power and title, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to protect and serve his poeple, even from those who are misusing their authorities.

However, there is one person Rindou can't do anything about, the one thing getting in the way of Rindou's hard work; Who is none other than his older brother.

Ran was the humanized image of the corrupt politician Rindou swore to never be. He wanted the power just for the sake of having the power, for his own selfish schemes.

For their whole life, Ran have been the pampered one, getting the title of the crown prince right at his feet just for being a first born, and that title have gained him respect across the kingdom, and by time, his ego have been taking over the entirety of the dry land. The older Haitani, got credit for stuff that never happened, for his nonexistent duties and sacrifices, yet for his surely capturing charm.

The younger have never called his vision of his brother jealousy, but rather bitterness for all his undeserved received attention, he would have paid him no mind only if he wasn't there to get in the way of his plans, and make dumb decisions with no second thoughts, and all the cleaning up his brother has to do afterwards.

Whilst Ran aims for the title of a royal, Rindou aim for the title of a royal.

That's when the Shibuya kingdom comes in handy. After some time of Ran's recklessness, their father had came to a fateful decision to make an agreement with nearby kingdoms and unify their power, it comes with the benefit of decisions looked into more thoroughly and a faster way to solve issues, the more the better.

Shibuya kingdom have been one of - if not - the biggest economical, agricultural, political, and soldierly turfs. There have been a time where Rindou even saw them as rivals, but even with the great power the Roppongi kingdom holds, they were no match to them.

By the younger Haitani's 15th month of October, introductions were made between the nobel successors, at the day of the agreement. He still remembers the details from that day very thoroughly.

The reigning monarchs sat at the overhead tower of Shibuya kingdom's palace, where their meeting takes place. Shifting all the way down from the tower spire to the lush garden, where the 4 youngsters can be located.

"Ran get up... at least introduce yourself...", whisper-yelled Rindou, fed up with the situations his brother keeps him in.

The crown prince took a look at the foreign visages, and had a nearby bench replace a bed to nap on. And now there is an awkward aura pressing the blonde too tight for his liking.

He tilted his head cautiously from where Ran was seated, taking a subsequent look at the Kantou kingdom prince now climbing a tree to - as Rindou concluded - catch a bird, and the Shibuya kingdom princess, inactive in the bird-catching event but gazing.

At a moment of comfort, Rindou approached her, "Looks like we're the only stable ones around", That got a giggle out of her, "actually Haru have never been so...", she took an additional look at Haru who was now fighting for his life with a furious bird pecking his head, "...tranquil."

It was now Rindou's turn to giggle, "then we're in the same condition", attention back at his slumbering brother.

"he isn't so bad, you must've not met Manjiro"

"Eh? The Tokyo empire prince? You met him? Woah i've only heard of him..."

"that's because he spends most of his time sleeping and eating"

"Better than sleeping and beating up guards"

"Heh he will get along with Keisuke then"

Rindou felt relief running through him again once he got ahold of how smoothly the converstation was going.

Then it clicked,

"oh excuse my manners, princess...", he faintly bowed and grabbed her hand delicately, like a priceless jewel, keeping his lips from touching the flesh yet having it thinly distanced for his fair share of satisfaction, his right hand on his chest lightly, "Haitani Rindou.", dreamy dripping eyes dropped shut at the contact of his lips and the back of her hand, devouring the slow moment.

He had no idea where that confidence came from that moment, he could've never managed to to pull that greeting in a normal circumstance. Maybe it has been the sense of security he felt that had his hesitancy long forgotten, just for a moment. After the introduction was done, the first thing he did afterward was looking back at the princess,

In her behalf, she found herself put on edge. As a princess she have been tought the etiquette well to be the representation of grace and elegance, this is far from her first royal greeting, and it still flusterated her, which caught her off guard far more than how Rindou did, yet as a princess the best immediate action to take was to compose herself,

"(Name), pleasure to meet you"

"The pleasure is mine"

Rindou straightened himself once more, the once pleasant aura have eased to both of their displeasure. And rindou tensed when he got a look at the strained - and still composed - (name) gazing down, as to not meet his eyes. And Rindou had to do something about the awkwardness,

"Ahem you know... im glad we got to talk"

"Same."

Silence fell again,

"well... my birthday, it's tomorrow... and...", now she was observing him, a source of ease found its way back in her veins, while additional fluster reached Rindou's behalf,

"if you would like... to come to my party?", Was a muffled murmer, too faint, too shy, voiced with fear of obvious nervousness exposed - if he were to be heard - but the pink nose and cheeks tint already gave it off.

"I'd love to".

The carriage made it's stop at a lavish palace Rindou remembers by heart. The guards stood on parallel lines, saluting the Duke.

He took slow steps towards the open massive door welcoming his arrival, the intent was to reach for the meetings tower, that's what got him invited in to begin with.

But Rindou knew - he just knew - he couldn't trust his conscious not taking him to the garden. It's laughable, really. The same Rindou, who despised the existence of anyone that got some audacity standing in the face of his ancestors' heritage and threaten to terminate it, is more than capable of betraying his time and schedule, even his mind and body - where's the extra voice denying this coming from anymore ? he doesn't know and wouldn't listen anyway - just to get a little bit near.

It have been true, Rindou did predict his beliefs and values to get lost somewhere in his memories when getting closer to her was inevitable.

"Princess!", yes, his self betrayed him and chose its real owner than the morals he valued so much, but Rindou still trusted his heart when it told him she'll be in here.

It's times like this that teach him to trust his guts more often.

"Ha?", (name) was shining from Rindou's vision, she barely got a reason to make a sound, he would've found her and there would've been no logic to explain how, "Oh, Rin? greetings"

"Good day, Princess," by the aid of heaven was he able to look unfazed, it's being wondered in his head if his mother was being legit when telling him heaven favoured lovers, "i haven't interrupted your morning walk, have i ?"

"Not at all, it's always a delight having you here", the smallest bits of comfort she gives, purify Rindou and the unsettling gloom he carries. "do you have any business here?"

Rindou was well aware of the reputation he made for himself, and it have been beneficial for most times when dealing with entrepreneurs, that he isn't playing when it came to work, but having it reach to his sweetheart princess - even if she was being genuine - got his heart uncontrollably aching. She seemingly noticed his sudden tensing though, and had her way to ease it up, "Care for a walk? If you're free"

'"of course, Princess, there are still some time until the meeting anyway"

(Name) drew her attention back ahead of her and lead the way to a nonexistent temporary destination, and Rindou plaintly followed after.

He looked at her with so much admiration in his eyes, how he had appeared so calm and collected was still an enigma even for Rindou, yet have never been so grateful for the unknown source.

Over the decade of familiarity between both royals, something magical made a home out of his soul.

The Shibuya kingdom was on top of its game in everything, including their monarchs. The princess have been well loved and admired all across her kingdom, she got the charm, in the term his brother could never reach.

He was aware of the strict instructions and guides majority of princesses - including ones from an important force like Shibuya kingdom - were required to receive, but she had natural gifts; serenity and composure. They certainly are principal values that emphasizes a princess from a commoner, however that was just her thing no one could've done it better, it was an unallied geniune charisma assisted further with the etiquette toturing.

Her elegance, her grandeur, her neatness, her ingenuity, Rindou have fallen in no time. He barely caught track of the time the passion bloomed, too bewitched by the mystique of... her, just her.

Despite the allure he has been captured in, Rindou still kept a miniature soundness of mind to refrain him from - more likely than not - recklessness.

He is aware that she's not his.

He is well aware she is meant to bond with Sanzu, not him.

He is aware.

His soul isn't.

Rindou, in spite of his youth, has been to war, has killed a man coldheartedly alongside his brother, has resolved to violence more often than a heard-it-all pass-by could assume. Never in his life had he thought sounds of four words could've broke him the day it did, it was too sudden, too mindblowing, yet too obvious, and Rindou felt humiliated by his own self for being pity, for getting his hopes too high as if he was ever favored.

That night he shed tears, the possibilty of Rindou allowing emotions to exit its shell has became an urban legend by villagers and commoners, all they ever spoke about was the fearless Duke who formed a rivalry with his weakness, but that night he cried an ocean.

He still think of that night and doubts the devotion of his memories, the last tears that have been shed before that day were a little Rindou's, who can barely say his name, fighting the soil between him and his mother with the small hands to feel her warmth.

He wasn't that little Rindou anymore, his hands don't search for warmth, it searches for weapons to slay whoever disrespects his land. But that little Rindou never died, there were no corpse or a funeral for the little one, he was buried alive in the current Rindou still itching for tenderness every now and then.

"I'm courted to Haru" (name) informed him that day, it was the day she came of age and were informed herself.

Her relationship with Sanzu have been less than lovers more than friends, there were no hard feelings involved and throughout their lives, she got plenty of time to get comfortable and befriend the other, however there have been no spark and it showed no sign of showing up, ever, well nothing that could be found in a life partner, not the marital type atleast.

Rindou found her hesitance to be more of an issue than a good sign, he values the flame she started inside him, but he valued her far more, and she tops whatever could come in mind to him. And have been the supportive friend she needed for comfort.

He wanted her. Not just a want. He's not completed without her. She was the main priority.

Rindou cooperated with the idea of (name) never being with him, she seemsd to surrender for the Haru deal herself - tho it's not like she had a choice -, his soul never did.

It still gone to heaven and back feeling her presence. He was too weak and helpless and didn't even feel like doing anything about it.

Rindou stopped with the alert of getting too far from the tower, having the princess stopping at the same level with him silently but showingly questioning the decision of stopping.

"Well," the shaking of his voice have made him innerly curse himself, "I appreciate you inviting me for this walk, princess, but i have to be in the tower... i wish you a pleasant day."

The brothers were standing in the spacious balcony facing the far mountains, only gazed at by Rindou, having Ran's back and elbows facing it.

"Do you get me now, Rinny ? They just can't get the cake recipe right and it ruins my mood so i had to punch the- hey Rindou are you listening ?"

Rindou hadn't registered a single sound his brother was making.

He was complaining to the mountains with his eyes, he couldn't his weaknesses to slip into an unwanted ear, it was a language made for him and the mountains.

Rindou was getting hopeless, of himself, never of his princess. He was getting hopeless that he'll ever forget her when he had to.

Over the decade of pure admiration, and the one sided emotional rollercoaster, Rindou was on the state he willingly wanted to avoid thinking of accuring, where he couldn't keep up with the unspoken stress anymore, where he hated himself for falling in love.

And he felt like he was betraying his mom for blaming love for the humans' issues.

His mother never missed a day of telling him how love was beautiful, whereas human nature is ugly, and the ugliness of humans made love - that only treated the humankind with pleasure and a reason to keep going - the supposed culprit.

"Rindou...", the older man shook his closest family's shoulders lightly to grab his lost attention, "talk to me..."

It worked and snapped the younger royal out of his gloom, "sorry... you were saying?"

"That's not important right now, what is it with you?"

"It's nothing, Ran, im just tired of the meeting that's all"

"Rindou... im your brother, i know you better than anyone else and i know you are distressed of something bigger than a meeting", Ran now facing his brother's side, had a softer tone, one that reminds Rindou that this isn't just a pampered prince, but his brother that'll always have his back, and Rindou can't help the small lip twitch imitating a smile in his face.

"I was thinking of mom...", Rindou took a pause from the mountain converstation lowering his pupils to meet his feet, "i guess i missed her"

Ran let out a soft knowing chuckle and got back to his previous position, "you have always been like this little brother"

Rindou turned his attention to his brother from surprise, "like what?"

"Acting tough and big and that you got everything under control", a teasing grin found it's way to Ran's face, "when you're really just a whiny baby~"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST CALL ME YOU ARSEHOLE", Rindou tried to punch his brother's arm but the older one ran away laughing playfully, and unknown to him he was smiling as well.

It was true, Rindou really needed to stop making everything his responsibility and start admiting he had a limit, and a side of him that needed to be spoilt and pampered, even if it hurted his pride to admit it.

And he wanted to surrender to that side just this once.

"Sorry to interrupt, Your royal highness", one of the maids entered the princess' chamber mid the gossip of her ladies-in-waiting were transferring to her - who is not participating - and curtsied , "his grace, duke Rindou of Roppongi, is outside the chamber, demanding to see you"

A short stretch of time passed before the ladies-in-waiting swap the orientation of their gossip to each other, very clearly agitated to interrogate themselves what would he possibly want to see her for at this hour, (name) wouldn't have known what to answer them herself.

"Tell him to wait for a moment and then he could come in", the maid courtsied one more time and then gone out.

"Would you like to change into a more represantable attire, my lady ?"

"My lady, should i get the blue gown ? It's the quickest to put on"

"Don't listen to them, my lady, i suggest the purple gown"

The ladies-in-waiting began debating what should she wear in the presence of - according to them - a male outsider.

"Thanks for the suggestion, ladies, but he's no stranger it'll be alright, you could take your leave now", she politely shrugged them off.

They gave each other a few glances then got up and curtsied, perfectly timed with Rindou's entrance, curtseying to him as well and quietly leaving, the guards securing the door from outside,

Leaving only (name) and Rindou.

The princess remained seated down and looking up to him with a polite smile, while he's motionless by the door, gentle eyes following hers, smile warming up the frost of October, and she could've sworn there was faint pink painted in his cheeks,

"Rin, what a surprise...", at the - now exactly - decade of your meeting, never had Rindou been to her chamber, in fact he's never been to any chamber, only to the meeting tower or walking down the general area, not to mention having a nobelman in a nobel lady's bed chamber is quite scandalous - not that either of them agree with the judgements that accure from it - and been avoided by almost everyone for the sake of their reputation, so er astonishment have been explanatory, "are there any special occasions for the visit ?"

"Oh nothing serious, princess, i apologize if i got you worried"

"Oh not at all... im just quite curious what the reason may be is all"

"Well...", averting her eyes and looking down for the first time since he came in. Notwithstanding his silky mauve hair was falling over the violet orbs on the stocks of tilting his head downward, the pink flush got apparent and clear. Rindou took an unhurried breath, composing his now tense form. His brother was right, he was just trying to act tough, but he's a coward innerly, making a fool of himself at the moment, but there is no turning back, "...my birthday is tomorrow... and i thought... if you'd like to come... ?"

Silence.

Protacted silence.

Rindou was panicking too much to even look at her expressions, it felt as if she stopped breathing, no sounds were coming from her direction in any way.

And he was about to apologize and leave but...

"I'd love to."

"How beautiful...", the carriage interior contained the bewildered princess, having never perceived a prepossessing sight as the one shifting by her in-motion window.

In a sort of a same condition as Rindou, she haven't stepped foot in his territory, she had no motive to. From the uncountable dry lands (name) has traveled through from the Tokyo empire, the Roppongi kingdom haven't made it to the list for two reason; first, the concernily occupied schedule assigned to her as a working royal barely got her a breathing space for visits to relatives or friends - since the kingdoms she have ever been to was for her deals, and Rindou was in charge of all matters surrounding his land to even give her a thing to do there - and her break was utilised for complete rest behind the walls of her castle.

Second, she didn't trust herself near Rindou.

Rindou was a riddle on her behalf, not him as a person, but the chemical reaction he causes.

Royal pedagogy was told to be stern, sombre, unsympathetic, rigorous, every common unrelentless term a rational living creature could think of. She went through it, she managed to accomplish the perfection of the princess definition. It took blood, sweat, and tears but it gave off, and she was prepared to survive the world.

Then Rindou happened, that not the top of the range tuition of composure and control prepared her enough for this man.

Ever since the night their fates collided, there was an implicit urge to deny the liking she has taken on the duke, it have been unreasonable at the time, but by age the motives of her denial grew larger; Her courtship to Sanzu - who was far from a romantic interest - have already been agreed upon by the higher ups.

Further than that, Rindou have already made a reputation for himself as the fierce duke who've made it crystal clear his land and occupation were his prime consideration, contrary of his brother and the masses of the nobelmen over the eras, the hypothesis of marriage and affairs was made known to be less of a concern for him.

All the doors were shut. She had your hands tied. There weren't any solutions left for her but to ignore the sellout of her chemical structure, but it was just... unachievable.

Every single time (name) thinks she surpassed her little crush, without a fail, Rindou's image shows up leaving her euphoric and lovestruck.

Only god knows how they survived meeting each other in person for so long.

That said, back to the current state, the carriage made its stop at the centre of the estate, where the castle is built, it doesn't equalize the size of her home but it sure is as beautiful as the land surrounding it.

(Name) was just as mesmerized with the haitanis' palace as she has been with their unfurled fields, too captivated with the allure of her field of vision, her lady-in-waiting - whose been assigned to travel alongside her - took over the errand of reviving her mindfulness by slightly shaking her - putting in mind (name)' social role -, which seemingly worked.

Now attentive, she finally sensed the rows of maids and guards by the gate still having their heads low - under the definition of respect -, the gate was allegedly open beforehand, expecting her arrival. Taking the first steps towards the entrance, she allowed the maid to escort her somewhere - she wasn't informed of yet - that locates in the back of the castle, where they're taking her.

The further they take her, the clearer it gets that she's being escorted to a garden. It was decorated and set ready for the rendezvous that she weren't all sure what's it about either.

The closer the view the clearer it gets to see the handsome dressed up duke, sitting in the chair ahead of the sizeable table that's stocked with a sweet course. His arms were crossed and his leg was restless, solicitude transparent on his attractive features, it lightened up - however - at the sight of the princess, and his little joyous smile unintentionally caused hers.

He, like an excited child got up from the chair quick, hitting his leg against the table in the process but he barely cared and came closer to her, excusing the maids and her lady-in-waiting out with a hand gesture not even staring at them once, his eyes couldn't leave hers and it'll be misleading to say he was solely participating at the current adoration match.

The rest of the women surrounding them understood almost immediately and took their leave along with the guards spread around the garden, and within mere minutes she was alone with Rindou, staring at each other chastly.

"Ahem please take a seat, princess", Rindou was the first to break the silence, extending a hand that she took gladly to escort and move the chair for her before moving to his seat across from her.

His usual stern yet playful demeanor was replaced - as she noticed - by this uncoordinated timidness completely out of character for a fierce leader like Rindou. Unknown to the princess before him, that this is Rindou finally coming out from the dark of his disguise by making less effort to hide his too obvious crush on her.

"You have no idea how delighted i am that you came", started the now blushing mess of a Duke. If she didn't have his handsome features printed in her memories, (name) would've mistaken this man for another.

This Rindou was less - if isn't at all - the supposedly gonna-be controlling terrible husband like the rest of them royals out there, and more of a softie who is keeping his eyes into one direction as long as she's in it.

"I'm delighted to be invited", she answered after observing the strange behavior coming from him. It wasn't exactly strange to be fair, but surprising, "um... do you perhaps have an issue that needed to be discussed"

"Not at all, princess, you could say i wanted to spend quality time with you, just the two of us", Rindou reached for the tea pot to pour you both some.

Oh.

That was... a shock.

Not what he said... exactly.

But the fact he said that.

Alright, who is this and where is Rindou ??

(Name) was speechless. "...umm... i see.", she went on to drink her tea to keep the silence appropriate. She looked up to Rin, in a position of a lover; he held the cup of tea in one hand, and the other supported his slightly leaning head as he stared at her.

His lavender orbs were contagious, they were lovestruck and had her lovestruck, it was a disease meant to infect only both of them. Dangerous thoughts got to her head...

'What if he likes me?'

In the procedures of brushing off her truth of loving Haitani, figuring the obvious was a lost choice as well.

Rindou isn't acting strange... maybe.

What happened is that she opened her eyes.

The silence lasted for a while, and it could be guessed how awkward its been.

"The weather is nice, would you like to have a walk ?", Rindou finally blurted out, as a solution for the awkwardness and she wouldn't miss out on that so she got up following him.

The walk couldn't make their silence less awkward, it couldn't stop the red from spreading all over their faces either. It felt as if they were moving in circles, which was a probability, but neither royal would notice, they were currently detached from their surroundings, all they hear are their doubts of the future.

Rindou for instance thought he had a plan - but it was a miscalculation, a rush of adrenaline if you must call it - up until the reality slapped him like no fool could ever muster up the courage to.

Too many thoughts crossed his mind at once, his brain was getting heavy with doubts.

'She doesn't like me'

'She's betrothed to someone else'

'She doesn't like me!!'

'Where is this going ?'

'What to do now ?'

'Mama get up!'

...

He stopped his tracks.

...

'Mama get up! Get up Mama i'm scared....'

'Rindou.'

'Why doesn't she answer me ??!!!'

'She is gone'

'No...... Mama is here I SAW HER!!!!!!'

'She is not coming back'

'WHAT DID YOU DO???!!!!'

'Enough'

'BRING ME BACK MAMA!!!!!'

'I said enough.'

'NO NO I WANT MAMA I WANT MAMA!!!!'

*Slap*

'Get over it......

......Rindou!'

".....Rindou?"

(Name) concerningly called for the crying man. 'Huh' thought Rindou. Oh. He's done it, what he ought to leave dead- had woke up... he allowed that little Rindou to rise from the dead for a delicate moment, just that moment. Afterall, that slap had killed the little boy in him, making him the ruthless man he is today, making the small child into his enemy, a frail weak crybaby... what he promised to never become again... Love was beautiful whereas the human nature is ugly, and the ugliness of humans made love the supposed culprit, just like his mother always told him, but just as he got in contact with little Rindou had he realised, he's been the living embodiment of that. He gave in to human nature, became as ugly as his father. He never forgave his father, neither for beating his mother to death, nor for turning him into - as Rindou calls it - a serious jester. The way he was acting was comedic, hilarious even, he knew what his reputation in the empire never mentioned, his truth, as a fearless coward, a brave quitter. Couldn't get any more ironic.

"Are you feeling alri-" "I love you."

"..."

Her heartbeats were racing, so was her blood, and so were her thoughts, she had frozen in shock trying to compose her ragged breathing, her mouth and eyes were wide open, her vision got blurry yet what's left of her consciousness could still dig his hopeful hooded eyes and, oh, have they always been so seductive ?

In the meantime, the man of the moment mistook the stillness for rejection and terror, a pout found the way to his thin lips, before they were pecked by his princess.

The Peck turned passionate kissing, a kiss of deprivation, of desperation, of a fantasy, a daydream always meant to be - as if it was a glimpse of the future - forever and ever, in love.

The kiss got heated red was his face, red were her swollen lips, red they saw. Their hands moved eagrly; through her clothed back, and his smoking hot visage.

They know what their fate is suggesting.

And Rindou voiced it, in his husky voice, "Join me in my bed...please..."

The maids lifted the cloth tightening up her body, leaving it to lose balance and slide off her skin, that flowy nightgown she was left with was no shield to the breeze running up her body.

He was staring at her by the doorframe and it felt too pleasurable to be a beginning that hasn't started yet, he was already satisfied in all senses by getting to be around her, however he wanted to keep going, to feel their virgin love unvail is what he was gonna keep going for, and that would get him witnessing heaven alive.

Just then, Rindou walked in looking less formal than what the princess has gotten used to but somehow never lost his allure, he was barely wrapped in the poet shirt he had on nor did the black loose pants make him look any less enticing.

He gave a look at the maids who understood almost immediately curtsying then leaving them alone for the privacy of the night, and once the door closed she was hit with the reality of the situation, she couldn't look anywhere but Rindou's shining violet eyes, his face was being pecked by the light of the moon that was left to observe their love and be the witness of their union.

Rindou made his way to where (name) was standing quietly, holding her breath, and her fingers close to each other, like a prayer; praying he'd devour her entirely.

His cold hand brushed all over her hot skin gently before lifting her head to meet him for another kiss, starting lovingly and leaving them wanting more, more, more...

The Duke lifted her bridal style, laying her on the bed and getting on top of her without enough force to strangle her but close enough for their needy liking.

Puppy kisses were thrown here and there, small giggles filling the space, but it wasn't quite... what they were here for.... so Rindou's left hand paved the way under her nightgown stopping down her lower thigh to stroke a bit before finally getting to her vagina. The princess let out a few breaths - she didn't know was holding - when he started teasing her entrance with his fingers, rubbing his thumb in circles while his index and middle finger slowly and steadily prepped her, more and more breathy sounds left her throat as he was full on thrusting both fingers in and out relentlessly.

Rindou was so turned on right now with, one, the sight of his lover, and two, the sight of his lover shifting and moaning while getting closer and closer to her first orgasm. He almost came just by his field of vision, but the night was still long.

The princess on the other hand could't think of her surroundings while getting close to the edge, (name) was told bedding as a married couple was only for the husband's pleasure, the nobleladies visiting her whole life spoke of only the worst stories of wedding nights that can be told. Never have breaking sexual propaganda felt so good, a man that's not her husband nor fiancé digging deep into her sweet spot reaching her orgasm before he could even think of his.

And just as she thought it was no longer possible, Rindou's fingers picked up pace practically splashing her juices on the velvet sheets she was gripping on fo dear life, seeing stars as her climax was approaching, when Rindou's hand got gooey and her brain got back in her head.

"That was... incredible", the princess told her duke panting.

Rindou kissed her cheek facing him and replied, "it's just the start, my lady", (name) was about to say something but he beat her to it going down between her legs, spreading them and kissing his way dangerously close to her vagina, "let me keep showing you the pleasure you deserve" Rindou gave her exposed clitoris an open mouthed kiss and her breath hitched again, her voice cracking the moment kisses turned into licks.

Even since the fated day where her courtship to Sanzu was announced, she received various advices concerning the wedding night on how to satisfy the Kantou prince, this - however - she was not prepared for. Keeping that in mind as Rindou was feasting on her honeypot like a starving man, having her moaning lustily as she came, toes curling and legs above his shoulders.

Looking down beyond her raised nightgown, was a lustful expression from the Roppongi kingdom duke, white was on his mouth, chin, and cheeks, licking his lips while maintaining eye contact, enough to get any woman on her knees. And oh... how handsome that man is... it's a scene like this, that automatically leave one wondering; how's a man like this not considred the charming one between the brothers ?

Society long forgotten, as he got up towring over her. Shibuya kingdom long forgotten, as he took his top off exposing his well built abs and muscular arms. Sanzu long forgotten, as he lowered down his pants, still keeping eye contact, never taking his eyes off her, consumming each reaction. And that damned lustful look on his face.

With pants gone, his penis was exposed; he was a terrifying 8 incher, rather girthy, red and hot, nowhere to hide he needed the princess. Now.

She gulped at the sight, and fear struck her, Moving backwards within the king sized bed.

"What's wrong, love?"

"No no... that's um... that's not-... that will hurt..."

Rindou moved closer to kiss her forehead lovingly, "i'll make sure it doesn't... i'll be with you through every minute"

She smiled at him and in a swift move, he got her back in a laying position, hands above her head intertwined - really, really tightly - with his own, legs hugging his waist ; it wasn't exactly a comfortable position but they were too lost in each other's eyes to give it much thought.

Rindou gave his dick a stroke before lining it up at her entrance, "one, two...", he pushed in, "...three."

Letting out a sigh at the smooth feeling inside her walls, Rin was quick to draw his attention back at his beloved, visibly uncomfortable at the foreign stretch. With his free hand, He kept playing with her hair soothingly, the other still supporting her own, as he gives her some time to adjust.

"Shhhh... shh... shh shh my darling sweetheart... you're doing it... you're doing great..."

"Mmmh-", she gave him a pleased hum and leaned into his free hand. Upon taking her signal, he locks lips with her and starts moving, slowly and steadily.

The princess yelped at the sensation, breaking the kiss, as Rindou let out a low, dark grunt pulling her back into the kiss that got filthy real quick.

They couldn't even keep track of the time, slow movements turned rough in and out thrusting, sounds of skin slapping echoing in the chamber, (name) wailed at the eager and hungry-like pace Rindou was going at. Both of their passion sounds were too loud to hear the bed creaking and the slamming of their hips, as not even the love bites could contain it.

"Fuuuuuck~", Rindou groaning in total ecstasy, still pounding into the fucked out princess like there's no tomorrow.

"Ah... A-Ah... Oh.... Hah... R-Rin... p-please...", (name) plead with a sweet weak cry, instead she received another kiss leaving her drool dripping.

"Hah.... ah... ahh.... I'm- i'm cumming...", Rindou hugged his princess tight as his eyes close shut and face heated up.

In one final thrust, they came at the same time, contently staying in the same position; cuddling and taking long, shaky breaths after the mind blowing sex.

Rindou picked up his bride-to-be to his private bath, washing her up himself as she let the warm water run down her body.

"You make me happy princess..."

His voice was music to her ears, reassuring her with the sweetest words.

"You're beautiful..."

"Rinny-"

"Yes, dear?"

They couldn't be together, her marriage to Sanzu is scheduled three days to come. It's too late now to save her true love story, isn't it ? She had already accepted it the day prior to Rindou's visit, she had already accepted her fate.... why did it have to get so beautiful at this timing ?

"I love you"

"I love you back, my love."

A/N : Let me know what you think <3 likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :)

@sagephilosophie

#Royal request #i write!#tokyo revengers #rindou haitani #ran haitani #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani x you #tokrev x reader #tokrev #tokrev x you #royalty au #rindou haitani smut #vee's

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