HEARTLABYUL'S HOUSEWARDEN, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, created a secluded rule that was never officially put forth in the Queen of Hearts' formal rulebook. The rule would be applied only during unbirthday parties in the Heartslabyul dormitory, where you are (unknowingly) permitted to have your preferred pastries or sweets served only to you, while the other students must settle for the standard fare. Of course, any modifications that you wish to make from your palette are keenly tracked by Riddle himself, ensuring that your tastes are always catered to during these gatherings.
SAVANACLAW'S HOUSEWARDEN, LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, had given you exclusive access that no one else in his dormitory had ever received before, disturbing him without consequences that could bring a lifetime of humiliation. To the oblivious eyes, the whole ordeal may be treated as trivial, but to those who have explicitly known the mighty beast, it's a golden opportunity to enjoy a rare privilege. You can bother him anytime you want, even if it's the stupidest thing in humankind, and he will never bat an eye and will willingly give you his undivided attention without question.
OCTAVINELLE'S HOUSEWARDEN, AZUL ASHENGROTTO, is a businessman who is familiar with the rulebook of satisfying his customers, especially those that are considered valuable to the Mostro Lounge. Recently, a new extension to the campus cafe was secretly implemented, and only one lucky customer is authorized to enjoy the exclusive benefits it offers. A private dining area with personalized and first-priority service and a specially curated menu that complements your palate awaits you. Surprisingly, the merman is gracious enough to deduct the costs of your meal from your total bill, transitioning it into special discounts and perks for being a preferred patron.
SCARABIA'S HOUSEWARDEN, KALIM AL-ASIM, is the epitome of generosity. True to his nature, he is happily inclined to deposit a heaping amount of allowance money into your bank account every month, ensuring that you are well taken care of and never have to worry about financial constraints! He's beaming every time a notification shows the number of items you've purchased with the money he gave you. If that wasn't enough, he would casually permit you to have exclusive entry into most of his prized belongings, for instance, like ancient artifacts or rare jewelry that could only be accessed by a select few.
POMEFIORE'S HOUSEWARDEN, VIL SCHOENHEIT, often never keeps the surplus of beauty products he sponsored for himself due to cluttering his own living space, instead opting to deliver the products that match your complexion and personal preferences directly to your doorstep. Whenever he was away to do shooting, regardless of how busy he was, he would often strictly instruct you to have a video call with him to assist you on how to properly use the products, ensuring that you achieve the desired results. There are some occasions when he would drag you to have beauty appointments with him and receive personalized treatments from his favorite aestheticians, all in an effort to help you look and feel your best.
IGNIHYDE'S HOUSEWARDEN, IDIA SHROUD, never dared to let anyone enter his room. However, the whole world has to hold its breath when you are given the green light to freely enter and exit his room whenever you want. At any time you visited him, his once messy room had gradually transformed into a meticulously organized space, which was a surprise change that only you seemed to be able to bring out in him. As if you weren't lucky enough, during gaming sessions, he sometimes lends you his account that he has spent years building up, giving you access to rare items and exclusive content that you could never obtain on your own.
DIASOMNIA'S HOUSEWARDEN, MALLEUS DRACONIA, knows a character with a sincere heart when he sees one. From the several interactions you had with him, he only knows goodness emanates from you, as you always treated him as an equal rather than just a royal heir, which left an impression on him. To reward your kindness and genuine nature, Malleus has decided to bestow upon you a special curse that may aid you in your future adventures. This curse will grant you his eternal protection and guidance, ensuring that no foolish foes are able to harm you as long as you carry his mark on your skin.
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"I spy with my little red eye something blonde and definitely a worthy opponent to cripple under my heel… It's the Honorary Knight! Hey, what brings you here? Oh, just a little stroll? Cool, cool. Hmm? What are these flowers I'm holding? Hahaha, it's Qingxin! I had it delivered all the way to Liyue, just to surpriiiiseee a special someone. And who might that be? Well, take a guess. They're someone I'm willing to rip this world apart for if someone else dared to even lay a strand of hair on their head. Someone that I'm willing to be used by in any way they see fit. They can collar me, punish me, or even abandon me, and I would still crawl back to them on my hands and knees like a happy, wagging dog eager for their affection. As long as they're happy, I'm happy. Sooo, any guesses? Why the frightened expression, dude?"
II. CHAT: SADISTIC TENDENCIES
"Hmm, I wonder what other toys I can use to make them squirm… Something that could bring tears of pleasure and pain at the same time. Maybe some hot wax or a flogger with sharp edges. Hehehehe…"
III. CHAT: PAPERWORK
"Can this stupid paperwork disappear any faster? That damn Varka knows I have a date with them tonight, and I can't be stuck here all fucking day. I swear, I'm thiiisss close to setting the headquarters on fire just to get out of here."
IV. ABOUT THE OTHERS
"Hmm? How did the others react to my relationship with them? Bahahaha! Oh, they didn't believe me at first; they thought I manipulated them or something. Yeah, the other knights made up these bizarre rumors about us, like when I probably threatened them with a dagger to their neck to make them date me. Can you believe that? I'm crazy, but I'm not that crazy... probably. Anyway, eventually they saw how happy we were together and accepted it. Some of them even apologized for doubting us. Whatever, it's one thing to doubt, but it's another thing to spread false rumors. It's all water under the bridge now, though. But I regret not teaching those fools a very thorough, valuable lesson because I would rather not anger my lover."
V. LOHEN'S TROUBLES
"Ugh… Being a big target for so many bastards across Teyvat is such a pain in the ass. The Fatui, Abyss scum, rival knights, and even some of the nobles in Mondstadt probably want me dead. I could deal with all that shit easily. But what really pisses me off is knowing they might try to use them to get to me. One wrong move and some coward thinks they can grab them just to make me vulnerable… Hah. The mere thought makes my blood boil. If anyone even dares to lay a finger on them as leverage against me, I’ll turn their entire bloodline into a cautionary tale. I’ll slaughter anything that tries to use them… but damn, it’s annoying that they even have the option."
VI. COMBAT: LOW HP
"Heh… is this all you’ve got? Pathetic. I can’t die yet—Fuck! I still need to go home to them. Don’t you dare make me break my promise to them…!"
VII. JEALOUSY
"Saaayyy, Honorary Knight. Are my eyes deceiving me, or are you pretty cozy with my lover recently… They're awfully adorable, hmm? Bet you want to hug them, hold their hand, maybe even steal them away from me? Ahahaha! …If you ever try it, I'll carve out those wandering eyes of yours and make you watch as I string your guts into a pretty little necklace for them. Okay? Hehehe... Just kidding! Or am I? You'll understand, right, Honorary Knight?"
VIII. DEMANDING RESPECT
"I thought it'd be a fun exercise to teach my fellow knights some basic respect and manners, especially when around my lover. Whatever my lover wants, they get. Anyone whining their asses off about it can take it up with me personally. I'll give them something to cry about, that's for sure."
IX. OBEDIENCE
"What is that look on your face? You want me to deliver this paperwork to Varka? Pshhh, do it yourself… Wait, my lover actually asked you to relay the message to me? Well, in that case, hand over the documents. Ah, ah, ah! I really insist."
X. ENCOURAGING VIOLENCE
"You'd be surprised that my lover encourages me to do whatever I want. It's probably because they know that I'll do it anyway, but the fact that they actually tell me to go wild as long as I come home safe? Hahaha! Fuck, that’s hot. They really are perfect for me. Because of their encouragement, I’ll slaughter entire camps of hilichurls, paint the snow red in Dragonspine, or carve my way through a Fatui ambush, whatever feels good. Honestly, their blessing makes the violence feel like foreplay, just saying."
Receiving that unforeseen proposal from the vice captain himself had sent the last remnants of the slightly sweet yellowish liquor down into the wrong pipe of the said grandmaster, who was now stunned at his boldness and then promptly choked on his drink, drawing nearby attention from drunk folks at the Angel's Share.
It took minimal endeavor for Varka to recover his bravado, coughing up the small amount of liquid that had entered his airway and loudly clearing his throat as if to emphasize his seriousness in the matter. He fixed the unfazed man with a steely gaze, firmly ramming his beer mug against the table, crossing his muscular arms as his back settled over the chair.
"Y'know, kid, I let you off chasing your thrill for violence because it's something you clearly have a passion for," he began, his voice low and thoughtful.
Lohen nodded in agreement; there was a slight twitch on the corners of his lips, betraying a hint of amusement and reminiscence.
Hm, the grandmaster wasn't incorrect in his observations. He had been consistent in his streak of recklessness and impulsiveness, always seeking out danger and excitement without much regard for consequences, causing everyone a headache at one point or another.
Now he's extending that migraine to the grandmaster for having the audacity to ask for his blessing on marrying his adoptive daughter.
Though he sensed more words lingering on the tip of Varka's tongue, he patiently allowed himself to be quiet and listen for a moment.
"However," the older man lifted his finger as an emphasis of the gravity of his next words, "you will not marry her," he said firmly, sizing up his fatherly glare to the boy's nonchalance.
Lohen cocked his head to the side, as if he didn't understand why the grandmaster would deny his heartfelt request. With a frown, he replied. "Why not? I'm more capable of protecting your daughter from harm than anyone else."
Varka stammered for a bit, attempting to make logic of his concerns before finally speaking. He sighed heavily, running a rough hand over his stressed face before answering, "Again, I don't doubt your capability of protecting her."
Lohen continued to press on the matter, his body slightly leaning over curiously. "Then what is the issue?"
Varka didn't respond right away, bringing out his emergency flat metal container of booze from the pockets of his jeans, uncapping the circular lid, and then replying. His eyes gently cast down at the awaiting drink. "[Y/N] is still trying to figure out what to do with her life."
He paused, taking a quick sip of the alcohol, and then continued with a sigh. "She just turned into a lovely young woman and has stuff that she is passionate about, sure. But I don't want to interfere with her path by just accepting," he motioned with his hand toward Lohen. "Your blessing without her input."
He took another sip before looking back up at the latter. "And of course, as her father, I don't just casually let suitors into her life without giving them a quick clash to prove their worth." He chuckled lightly, shaking the half-emptied container in his hand. "My daughter deserves a man who is willing to work for her love and respect, not just someone who expects it to be handed to him on a silver platter."
Though his eyes had little warmth beneath them, only a fair warning.
"Is that all clear?" Varka said with a sense of finality.
Lohen was silent. Remarkably rare for him, as he usually had a quick response ready. Though his silence should not be mistaken as an agreement to the wise words of the grandmaster, it was more likely a sign of defiance or just plain ignorance. "Then could you relay the message to [Y/N]?" he requested.
Varka deadpanned. "Are you even listening to me, kid?"
"Oh, I did," Lohen replied, nodding his head. "If you wish to know how serious I am about your daughter, then let's settle it with a duel." In the blink of an eye, blue swirls of energy enveloped Lohen's hands as he materialized a polearm that gleamed in the sunlight, ignoring a certain red-headed individual's annoyed protest of, "If you're gonna bring bloodshed, at least get out of the tavern."
The casualness had eventually transformed into that signature maniacal grin and bloodthirsty glint in his dull red eyes that Varka had seen too many times before.
At this point, Varka would rather assume that Lohen wanted an excuse to fight him under the guise of proving his commitment to his daughter.
Kids these days…
"You are really going to extreme lengths just to prove a point," Varka remarked, pinching his nose in disbelief. "But if that's what it takes for you to show your dedication, then so be it."
He rested his hand on the back of his chair, pushing himself up to stand, and cracking the joints in his neck as he did so.
"What are you two doing?"
Both men froze at the familiar owner of that sweet voice.
There you stood at the entrance of the tavern, your hand positioned on the wooden door frame, a look of curiosity and concern etched on your face. You took the opportunity to use the silence as an edge to assess the situation unfolding before you, wondering why the hell they are trying to cause a ruckus as an invitation to be permanently banned by the tavern in the middle of the night.
You looked first at your sheepish father, scratching his blond hair in awkwardness, and then at the Lohen who was still equipped with his weapon, as if ready for a fight or really ready for a fight.
His battle-hungry expression schooled back into one of casual indifference as he caught your eye, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Good evening, my lady," he said with a slight bow, his tone laced with practiced charm. "We were just having a little chat with your father here." He motioned with his head to the old man who's currently giving him a look, though the gesture was disregarded purposefully, and then Varka turned his attention to you, clearing his throat.
"So… Uh, how's the progress of your collaborated research with Albedo, sweet pea?" he asked, forcing a poor attempt at a smile, sitting back on the stool as he tried to hide the awkwardness that flickered in his eyes.
At the mention of the affectionate nickname from a long, long ago, your face scrunched up in disgust. It had been quite some time since he had addressed you with that endearing term, and using that specifically now felt like a deliberate attempt to divert your attention from the bigger picture.
"What is going on here, Dad?" you replied, arching a distrustful eyebrow.
Silence followed after your question, the tension in the room palpable as you waited for his response. Finally, it was not your father who cracked the stillness, but rather the part-time bartender himself, Diluc.
"This gentleman," Diluc said, setting his gaze at Lohen while keeping his hands busy cleaning the same glass over and over again, "has asked for your father's blessing to propose to you." Then he shifted his bored gaze back to your unusually quiet father, a hint of amusement betraying his expression despite the border of professionalism he maintained.
He can already tell the simmering betrayal emitting from Varka, judging by how tensed his jawline is and how his grip on the container tightens.
"Pro…proposal?" you stammered, your face burning from feeling caught off guard by the mention of an unexpected proposal.
Diluc nodded in confirmation, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed your flustered reaction. "I'll leave the rest of the details to them," he said, gesturing towards your father and Lohen. He placed the glassware on an open upper cabinet, mouthing to you, "Good luck," before excusing himself from the situation to avoid getting tangled further in the delicate family matters.
Now, it was just the three of you, and maaaaybeeee, a knowing audience secretly watching the drama unfold from a discreet distance.
Your father chugged down the remaining booze from the container, swiping off the dripping juice from his chin with the back of his hand and sighing heavily. "As Diluc stated, yes, he was trying to get my blessing to marry you."
He tightened the lid of the container and set it back on the counter, his expression unreadable. "And I refused his request."
"YOU REFUSED HIS REQUEST?!"
The sheer volume of your bewildered voice jolted your father, causing him to flinch slightly. Even Lohen was stunned, but slightly touched by your shaky reaction.
He returned the bewildered stare, his eyebrows knitting together as if he weren't expecting the intensity of your reaction. "Hey, keep it down, will you?" he muttered, glancing around to see some of the drunkard fools furthering indulging themselves with the drama until they wisely looked away after catching his warning-like glare.
"I refused to give him my blessing until you give me your permission to marry you,"
He scowled. "But I doubt you would agree; you're doing fine on your own without boys trying to flock over you—"
"Then I want to marry him!"
"Huh?"
"Please let me marry him, Dad!"
Lohen looked back and forth at the father-daughter interaction with profound intrigue, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions.
Well, this is certainly unexpected, he thought to himself. But he wasn't complaining either.
You pressed forward before courage could desert you again.
"I've… I've liked him for a long time, Dad." Your voice cracked on the admission, with your cheeks scorching hot. "Months? I don't know, maybe longer?" You scratched your head in frustration, running your hand over your disheveled hair.
"It just is, okay! I know he throws himself into every fight like it's the only thing that makes him alive… but he still finds a way to check if I'm okay first, even when he always comes back bruised. " You swallowed hard, eyes now fixed somewhere near Lohen's boots because looking at either man right now felt impossible.
"I keep waiting for the right moment to say something, but every time I tried, my tongue kept getting stuck… I was too shy to confess."
Silence stretched thin and fragile.
Then the said man exhaled; that might have been relief dressed up as a scoff. The blue energy coiling up around his polearm flickered once and dissolved; the weapon vanished into motes of light as though it had never been summoned. His posture loosened, his shoulder dropping the battle-ready tension he'd worn like armor.
He turned toward Varka, lips curling into that familiar, infuriatingly smug smirk.
"See?" Lohen drawled, spreading his hands in mock innocence. "No need for bloodshed after all. Your daughter just gave her permission herself." The red glint in his eyes sparked with self-satisfaction, then softened a fraction when his gaze slid back to you. He confidently approached you, his hand taking yours, and kissed it gently. "You save a lot of trouble for us, my lady."
You blushed at the unexpected praise, unable to contain your wobbly smile.
Meanwhile, Varka dragged a hand down his face, muttering something unintelligible that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience to Barbatos. After a long beat, he finally looked between the two of you, expression caught somewhere between resignation and reluctant fondness.
The consequences of being a parent to a daughter, he guessed. He's more flexible when it comes to letting you get away with things than he'd like to admit, but he couldn't deny the pleasure it brought him just to see you happy.
"…Fine," he grunted, his voice rough.
He fixed Lohen again with a glare. "But if you make her cry even once, kid. I won't need a duel. I'll just bury you under Stormterror's Lair and tell everyone you got lost on a routine patrol."
Lohen's grin widened, unfazed by the protective-fatherly threat. "Noted."
Varka groaned. "I need another drink for this. You two are going to be the death of me."
Then his gaze drifted to your intertwined hands and grumbled. "Save the PDA for when you're married, please. You two are not allowed to hold hands in public until then."
"Daaaaddddd!" you whined, sending him a half-hearted glare.
Lohen brushed off his feeble warning with a chuckle. "We'll be sure to keep our hands to ourselves until the big day, Grandmaster."
"Though I wished to know now what my fiancée's preferences are for her engagement ring." Surprise flickered in your eyes as you glanced at Lohen, who was already gazing back at you with tenderness. "Shall we browse together tomorrow?"
You would be a fool to refuse such a thoughtful gesture from him.
Imagine your lover, Sylus, had to stifle his laugh when he was watching you grimace over expensive price tags at the designer store.
"Why is it over 500 dollars?!" you shrieked, gripping the price tag tightly in your hand; it could almost crumple in your frustration.
Your monthly salary wasn't even close to covering the cost of one item!
Behind you, you heard your lover let out a deep, suppressed giggle. Offended by the mere sound, assuming it was one of mockery or amusement at your expense, you whipped around to shoot him a glare, only to see a fond twinkle in his crimson eyes.
"What's so funny, huh?" you demanded, crossing your arms then sizing up your much taller partner with a scowl.
Oh, how badly Sylus wanted to gobble you up.
He pinched the fat of your cheek affectionately, chuckling softly. "I just find it amusing how worked up you get over mere pocket change," he said, gazing at your preferred attire with a mixture of amusement and adoration. "It's endearing, really."
You gave him a look, now letting go of the price tag. You're fully aware that your lover is a wealthy man, not only dominating a dangerous underground territory but also being in possession of several luxurious properties that fingers are insufficient to count. You loved that quality in him; it gives you security and reassurance that he can provide for you in ways beyond material possessions.
But sometimes it irked you how cocky he is when flaunting his wealth.
You smacked his broad chest with your hand, turning away from him with a huff. "Whatever, I'm leaving," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.
Then a few hours later, after arriving at your shared penthouse, the conclusion of a shopping spree is where you didn't actually buy anything because of your pettiness.
Sylus walked behind you with a smirk on his face, watching you turn the doorknob and walk inside the living room until you stopped in your tracks.
The living room is cluttered with designer boxes and shopping bags, from the couch to the coffee table, evidence that a certain someone had gone overboard with their spending without your knowledge. It's the same designer brand you complained about hours ago, now greeting you with its presence in your home.
Sylus chuckles at your still reaction, his cheeky arms wrapped around your waist, pulling his body closer to yours. He planted a subtle kiss on the top of your head, his smile faintly visible as he whispered, "If you want something," and he leaned closer to your flustered ear. "You don't need to complain when you have a lover who is more than willing to spoil you."
He dragged his lips to your neck, just smoothing over your skin with a teasing touch, as his warm breath makes you tickle. "I was planning to buy the whole mall just for you earlier."
"But a certain kitten was being fussy that I had to cancel those plans."
You are trying so hard not to give in to his sweet words and the temptation he brings with his gentle caresses.
Oh well, even if you try hard to resist, he'll give it to you regardless.
The time Flins spoke his native language, one belong to the Faes, is where you asked him to tell him his utmost desire while he uses his native tongue just for you to challenge yourself to decipher on your own to figure out the context of his answer.
“I want to taste the warmth between your thighs, to feel you clench around me while your breath breaks against my ear. Not crude hunger, but deliberate—every thrust, every kiss, a symphony I intend to play upon your body until you forget the meaning of restraint.” He said all of that with a straight composure.
You, on the other hand, tilted your head curiously. “Ooh, I wonder what you’re trying to say.”
Flins awkwardly coughed behind his hand, his pale cheeks immediately heatens up at your adorable obliviousness, and replied. “There is no need. It is nothing but unimportant matter.”
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Imagine Leona Kingscholar, your boyfriend, overhearing an aggravating, childish conversation that involved his fellow dorm mates in Savannaclaw, having the misfortune to hear them whining and complaining about their lovers over trivial matters.
He swore he aged faster by the mere seconds it took for him to listen to their petty grievances.
The common room, where the event was unfolding, smelled of sun-baked sand, spilled energy drinks, and the faint musk of too many beastmen crammed into one space after evening training.
There were three Savannaclaw students comfortably lounging in the middle of the room.
Most of them were still in their PE uniforms or half-dressed in dorm jackets, boots kicked off, tails flicking lazily against the furniture, while their voices carried across the space, with no consideration to those who may feel victimized to hear their incessant chatter.
Even their own housewarden was secretly lurking in the corner, with his emerald eyes intently eyeing the scene with a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
A hyena-type beastman student groaned, his crimson hair falling into his eyes until he brushed it away in frustration. "God, you don't know the headache I got from my girlfriend," he said, rolling his eyes dramatically.
Then his voice pitched into a higher octave as he continued, mocking the way she had nagged him, his eyes rolling back into his head for added effect. "You should've updated me, you should've done this, you should've done that~"
The energy drink wrapped around his hand crinkled as he threw it into the nearby trash can, adding to the growing pile of garbage. He crossed his arms with an annoyed huff. "Fucking hell, am I her personal assistant? Like I give a damn about her every little request."
Another laughed, a silver-haired wolf beastman, his head thrown back in unkind amusement. "No shit, even mine is on my ass 24/7. Yesterday, she blew up my phone because I liked another girl's post. 'Why did you like her post? Do you think she’s prettier than me?'" He pitched his voice into a whiny falsetto, flapping his hand like a puppet.
Then he scoffed. "Bitch, it was just a gym mirror selfie. I wasn't even thinking about it. Now I have to deal with her sulking for three days straight like a goddamn toddler."
The hyena-type snorted, kicking his legs up onto the low table and nearly knocking over an empty bottle. "Women, man. They act like we're supposed to live inside their heads."
A third student, a broad-shouldered lion beastman with a messy dark mane tied back loosely, leaned forward from where he was sprawled across the couch.
His tail thumped against the cushions in irritation. "You two are lucky. At least yours just nag and get jealous. Mine keeps wanting to 'talk about our feelings' every single night."
He made air quotes with his fingers, face twisting in disgust. "Like, bro, I just got back from training; I'm half-dead, and she hits me with, 'Do you feel like we're really connecting lately?' What the hell am I supposed to say to that? 'Yeah, babe, I feel tired and hungry; now leave me alone.'"
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "She even sent me some long-ass paragraph yesterday about how I don’t open up enough. Open up?" followed by a disbelieving laugh. "I'm not a damn diary. I just want to eat, sleep, and maybe get laid without it turning into a therapy session."
The wolf barked out another laugh, slapping his knee. "Exactly! They want us to be all sensitive and shit, but the second we actually say what’s on our mind, they lose it. Can't fucking win."
"Preach," the hyena agreed, cracking open another energy drink with a sharp hiss, raising the beverage in a mock toast. Then he chugged it down in one go, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Wish they could've just stayed quiet and stood pretty. Would've saved us the trouble."
Oh, that popped a vein on Leona's neck.
The shadow in the far corner of the common room shifted.
Leona stepped out slowly, emerald eyes glowing with pure irritation, his tail lashing once behind him like a whip. The temperature in the room seemed to drop as the three students froze mid-laugh upon noticing his sudden presence.
His presence alone sucked the casual energy out of the air.
"Repeat that shit again."
The hyena-type beastman jolted upright so fast his energy drink nearly slipped from his fingers. His ears pinned back, crimson hair falling messily over his suddenly wide eyes. "L-Leona-senpai—!"
Leona took another step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "I said… repeat that shit again."
The hyena’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. His usual swagger evaporated under Leona’s glare; his tail tucked between his legs as he shrank back into the couch.
The silver-haired wolf and the lion beastman looked equally pinned in place, suddenly very interested in the floor.
Leona’s lip curled in disgust. "What’s wrong? You had so much to say a second ago. Running your mouth like cowards when you think no one's listening. Typical. The second someone actually calls you out, you tuck your tail like scared kittens."
He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms as he glared down at the three of them. "You sorry-ass excuses for Savannaclaw students. Whining and bitching about your girlfriends like they’re burdens instead of the only ones stupid enough to put up with your lazy, ungrateful asses. You should be kissing the ground they walk on that they still have the energy and effort to deal with you every damn day. Most of you don’t even deserve that."
Leona’s gaze sharpened. "In case your pea-sized brains didn't catch on, beastmen don’t disrespect their mates. If you can’t value the person who chose to stand by you, then you don’t deserve a mate for life. You can stay single and rot for all I care."
The three students sat in heavy silence for a long beat before the hyena finally mumbled, "Sorry, Leona-senpai…"
"Yeah… we were just talking shit," the wolf added quietly.
The lion beastman nodded. "Won't happen again."
Leona scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Save your pathetic apologies. I don’t give a damn about your words. Prove it by actually acting like better partners. Now get the hell out of my sight before I make you run laps until you puke."
The three scrambled up without another word, grabbing their things and hurrying toward the hallway, tails low.
Leona stood motionless, arms still crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the three Savannaclaw students practically flee the common room. Their hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway until they disappeared completely, leaving behind only the faint scent of nervous sweat and the mess they’d made.
He let out a long, heavy sigh, dragging a hand through his dark mane in irritation. "Tch… First time in years I actually lost my cool over something so damn stupid," he muttered under his breath, emerald eyes narrowing at the empty doorway.
The vein on his neck was still faintly throbbing. He couldn’t remember the last time some petty conversation had crawled under his skin like that.
But deep down, he knew exactly why.
Because he had you.
You, who still chose to stay by his side even when he was at his moodiest and indifferent to almost everything around him. You, who still poured energy and effort into loving him without expecting him to become someone softer or more expressive. You never nagged him with trivial complaints. You never made him feel like a burden or a project to fix.
In return, Leona made sure your love was never wasted. After all, you were worth it.
He made time for you even when he claimed he wanted to nap the day away. He listened when you spoke, really listened, even if he answered with a lazy drawl and half-lidded eyes, he never fails to protect your secrets and vulnerabilities, so that you can freely be comfortable with him without any worries. He protected you fiercely, without needing to announce it. He pushed you when you needed pushing and gave you space when you didn't.
And though he’d sooner die than admit it aloud, he treasured every ounce of effort you gave him.
Leona’s tail flicked once, slower this time, as the tension in his shoulders finally eased.
To be honest, he respected you for that more than he loved you for it. And reflecting back to the sharp words he had said to those students, fortunately, the irony wasn't lost on him.
(writing this during my period hehe. TW: lohen unintentionally ragebaiting reader)
Imagine Lohen testing the period cramp simulator you ordered just to appease his bloodthirsty curiosity on how "terrible" and "painful" the actual period cramps are.
When the belt was finally attached to his hips, your lover entrusted you to control the intensity of the device as much as you pleased, as long as the pain was enjoyable.
So you started with baby steps, beginning with level one. Just a mild pulsating sensation, and that's about it. Lohen doesn't seem fazed, just bored. Giving you a look that said, "Is that all you've got?" while his head was cocked to the side and his smirk was taunting.
Encouraged (while also annoyed) by his unimpressed reaction, you slightly increased the intensity to level two. This time the pulsating sensation became more pronounced, but still bearable. Yet, your lover remained unfazed, his eyes still challenging you to push further.
He shakes his head, as if to say, "That's still not enough."
Your irritation was beginning to show now that you weren't also satisfied enough by his unaffected demeanor and wanted more of a reaction from him. You ramped up the intensity to its highest level, where the pulsations become almost overwhelming.
Your face contorted in a mix of anticipation and amusement at his unyielding stoicism. Surprisingly, Lohen hesitantly squirmed in his seat, a slight grimace crossing his features as he finally showed a crack in his cool facade. Finally!
The belt around his waist draws out a vibration enough to hear, seeing as the simulator motioned into waves. It was a small victory, but enough to satisfy your need for a reaction from him.
"How was it?"
Lohen looks at you, his face grimaced. "Babe, are period cramps really this painful?"
You let out an indignant huff, nodding. "Well, yeah—"
"Because," he drawled, leaning back despite the device making his abdomen twitch, "it really felt like having an upset stomach."
What the fuck did he say?
"Huh?"
Lohen, oblivious to the danger he had just stepped into, lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug.
"You know. Like when you eat something questionable and spend the next hour contemplating your life choices." He flashed you a crooked grin. "Unpleasant, certainly, but I wouldn't exactly classify it as the legendary agony you've all described."
He followed his sentence with an amused laugh; you didn't join in with his amusement. You just stared at him with a look that may quantify as an invitation for murder.
"Lohen."
"Yes, babe?"
"You mean to tell me..." You stared at him in disbelief, clutching the controller tighter. "You just compared my monthly suffering to food poisoning?"
His grin widened, somehow. "I'm saying," he corrected with infuriating confidence, "that perhaps you lot have a tendency to dramatize—"
Oh, you’re not listening to his bullshit anymore.
You launched the controller at his head. "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" you screeched.
Lohen yelped and barely managed to catch it with one hand. "Wha—Hey?!"
"I swear I'm going to kill you!" You ran after your lover, who was now sprinting away in fear. For the first time, this is the only time Lohen feared death, no less from his lover.
"Lohen!" you shrieked, chasing after him through the hallway. "GET BACK HERE!"
Lohen nearly tripped over his own feet trying to put distance between himself and your rapidly approaching figure. Despite the simulator still strapped around his hips and set to maximum intensity, self-preservation apparently outweighed pain.
Now, he reached a dead end. Slowly, he turned his body to face you, with his arms innocently raised, and a pleading look in his eyes. But the belt buzzed violently, causing him to finally wince. He must have accidentally pressed the button to increase the intensity further.
"Oh, gods," he hissed, grabbing his abdomen for half a second before remembering you were trying to murder him. "Could we perhaps discuss this like civilized adults—?!"
"To hell with your civilized discussion!"
"Hey, hey, kids! What's the commotion here, eh?"
A booming voice abruptly cut through the chaos. Both of you froze, then turned your curious gazes to the familiar voice. Honestly, Lohen thought it was an angel coming to save him from his impending doom, but to his dismay, standing a few feet away was Varka.
Meanwhile, the Grand Master carefully took in the scene before him. Lohen, disheveled and pale, was clutching a mysterious controller while wearing some strange contraption around his waist. …Is that a period cramp simulator? Then you, breathing heavily with murder in your eyes.
Varka sighed. Must he be punished with unrowdy behavior even during his rare moments of peace? He slowly turned toward Lohen. "What did you say?"
Lohen straightened. "...I may have implied that period cramps aren't quite as devastating as they're often described."
The room went quiet.
Varka blinked once, and he gazed at you, who was also looking back at him with anticipation. Then he let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...Son."
Lohen frowned. "What?"
"Whatever you did," Varka said, voice carrying the exhausted wisdom of a man who had clearly witnessed too many foolish decisions throughout his life, "you deserved it."
"What?"
He ignored Lohen's confused look as he turned to you, gently patting your shoulder. "Whatever you're trying to do, continue," he said, his tone filled with encouragement.
"Grand Master?!"
Your smile went wicked after receiving the green light of the Grand Master himself. "Gladly, Grand Master."
Varka looked at Lohen one last time, giving a mock shrug. "Could've saved yourself a lot of trouble if you just kept your mouth shut,"
The season of summer is a torture disguised as a paradise, with scorching heat and relentless humidity that drain the energy out of even the most enthusiastic sun lover.
The heat licking at your skin feels like a relentless assault, with the disgusting feeling of sweat dripping down your back and soaking through your clothes while also building up a second layer of flesh that sticks uncomfortably to your body.
Your eyes sting from the harsh glare of the sun, dropping tiredly from the sky like a relentless spotlight, while your mouth dries up from the constant need for hydration in the oppressive heat.
"Loheeennnn," you whined to your best friend, appearing normal as usual because he's the one who's currently enjoying the scorching weather with a cold blue popsicle in his hand, while you stand there, feeling like you're melting into a puddle of misery.
"Do you have one left?" you said, pointing at the popsicle. Your expression twisted in discomfort, and you tugged the collar of your shirt repeatedly to receive temporary relief from the sticky fabric.
He just stared at you as if he couldn't understand why you were complaining, smirking teasingly at your dramatic reaction to the heat. He licked the head of the popsicle, making sure he added obscene slurps and exaggerated moans of satisfaction just to rub it in further. His pinkish tongue swirls on the underside of the frozen treat, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes another slow, deliberate lick. You wish you had one, don't you? He thought.
His chest rumbled with laughter at the sight of your disapproving gaze. He almost choked on his popsicle when you suddenly shoved his shoulder out of spite, giving you a warning glare. "Hey, knock it off," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Not my fault you didn't get one for yourself."
You roll your eyes, knowing he's just trying to get a rise out of you. "Not my fault you didn't get one for yourself," you repeated, crossing your arms in mock annoyance. "Whatever, go choke on your popsicle for all I care." You turn away, still tugging the collar of your shirt to cool yourself down from the heat of the childish banter.
Lohen scoffed, shaking his head in amusement at your reaction. He knows this is just the response from the heat that was making your mood more irritable than usual. His fingers started to feel sticky from the melting popsicle in his hand; he immediately slurped the sweet, fruity liquid before it dripped onto his clothes. "Ah, shit…" he cursed under his breath.
You held your head high, making an "mmphm!" sound of satisfaction. "Serves you right,"
This brat…
He gave you a deadpan look before passing the popsicle over to you. "Here," he said.
You turned your head and glanced at the icy treat, your eyes widening at how the juice was slowly dripping down the stick. "Lohen, it's dripping!" you exclaimed, pointing at the disaster in the making.
However, your best friend quirked a brow. "Then, lick it off for me?" he teased, a sly glint in his eyes.
You grumbled under your breath, and you attempted to reach over for the popsicle, but Lohen's grip on the stick remained firm. "Dude, I won't be able to lick it off if you don't let me have it," you whined, trying to sound exasperated.
"You can do just fine licking the popsicle from my hand," Lohen replied, nudging the sweet treat to your awaiting lips.
You gave him a look. "The fuck?"
"Come on, come on." Lohen urged, slightly shaking the popsicle in front of you. "Stop complaining," he added with a faux pout.
You rolled your eyes as you slightly lowered your head to lick the underside of the melting treat, feeling the cold sweetness hit your tongue, then working up to the top as your mouth hollowed out to take in more of the delicious blueberry flavor.
Your lips were coated with glossy remnants of the popsicle, while your tongue was painted blue from the vibrant color.
You were too busy finishing the sugariest treat to ever notice your best friend's lustful eyes.
Lohen’s gaze darkened as he watched your tongue glide along the melting popsicle, slow and deliberate, just like he’d done earlier to tease you.
The way your lips wrapped around the icy length, hollowing your cheeks to suck in more of that dripping blueberry sweetness, sent a sharp heat straight to his groin that had nothing to do with the summer sun.
Fuck… just like that, he thought, imagining it wasn’t the popsicle at all but his own cock sliding between those glossy lips.
Your tongue swirling on the underside, catching every bead of juice before it could spill. Fuck, he could picture it perfectly: his throbbing dick in place of that melting treat sliding between your slick lips while you hollowed your cheeks just like that.
Your pretty tongue is swirling around the head, teasing the sensitive underside with those same eager laps, coating him in your warm spit instead of blueberry juice.
He imagined the kind of obscene slurps you’d make, the way your lips would stretch wide around his girth, glossy and swollen as you took him deeper, sucking with that hungry little mouth until drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin.
Then you would glance upwards with your eyes half-lidded and wearing the most fucked-out expression. "I want more..." you would say while wrapping his cock in your hand and stroking it with a firm grip and teasingly licking the slit at the tip.
Lohen uncomfortably shifted in his stance, feeling the hardness of his pants growing as more inappropriate thoughts started to invite themselves unwillingly.
His fingers tightened around the stick, knuckles turning white. He wanted to do more than let you suck so prettily…
He wanted to push it deeper, forcing the cold treat down your throat until you choked and sputtered around it, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sudden intrusion. Just to see you struggle a little, just to hear those pretty little gags while your throat tightened.
He wanted it. He wanted it. He wanted it so fucking bad.
Meanwhile, you finally pulled back for air, licking a stray drop from the corner of your mouth, and caught him staring. That intense, hungry look on his face was impossible to miss, and you know him far longer to recognized that look anywhere.
"You wish that was you, huh?" you said, voice low and teasing, a smirk tugging at your slick lips.
Lohen snapped out of it, blinking once, then scoffed. Before you could pull away completely, his free hand came up, fingers threading into your hair as he pushed your head further toward the popsicle.
