[o-pandora-o]

✧ N A V I G A T I O N ✧ REQUESTS: OPEN! (˵ •̀ ᴗ •́ ˵ ) ✧ STATUS: Might be a little busy than usual

✧ MASTERLISTS ✧ ✧ Obey Me! ✧ Twisted Wonderland ✧ What In "Hell" is Bad? (WHB) ✧ For Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail please refer to @ccalxx ✧ Hit Posts ✧ - 4 Dragonmen of the Apocalypse - Malleus Draconia and Neuvillette - having my type

✧ RULES & GUIDELINES FOR REQUESTING ✧ ✧ Fandoms I write for: Twisted Wonderland, Dangerous Fellows, Blue Lock. For Genshin Impact and Honkai Star rail please refer to my other blog. ✧Genre of what I write: Fluff, Crack, SFW, Angst and NSFW. ✧Gender of what I write: Mostly Gender neutral with a second person point-of-view. Can also write specified genders if requested. ✧Will write: Headcanons, Oneshots/Prompts, Imagines/Scenarios. ✧Will NOT write: Super dark content such as gore, pedophilia, children charas x adult reader (not aged up) and similar themes. ✧ I will have the right to refuse certain requests if I feel uncomfortable doing so. Hope y'all understand. ✧ Note: Please be as specific as you could in order to avoid misunderstanding of the requests. Thank you!

✧ ABOUT THE AUTHOR ✧ Greetings! Welcome to o-pandora-o! You can refer to me as Pandora. I'm 20+ and my pronouns are she/her. Hobbies: Anime, Manga, Drawing, Crafting, Playing Games. Games Played: Otome Games (MysMe, Dfel, Obey Me!, WHB, L&D etc.), Pokemon games, GENSHIN IMPACT, Honkai Star Rail I would like to apologize in advance as it would take some time to fulfill your requests as I am a full time college student and is busy with my hobbies. If I ever misunderstood your request please say so, as most of the time I am an airhead. Thank you all so much! Enjoy reading!

[lowkeyren]

—how to win my husband over 101

in which : you marry the ruthless prince of kremnos, and everyone says you'll never thaw his heart. but you’re nothing if not stubborn. surely all you have to do is win him over right? how hard can that be?

wc 8.7k (it’s worth it trust me), historical au, marriage of convenience, sunshine x grumpy, strangers to lovers, you fell first + he fell harder, fem reader referred to as “princess” / “milady”, ts burns so slow u might rip ur hair out sorry, heavily ib how to get my husband on my side. art by @/kannbergri on x.

surprise pookies @vxnuslogy @luvether @knnichs @kazucee it’s finally here!!!!

PROLOGUE: HOW TO SURVIVE THE EARLY DAYS

you married a stranger to save your homeland.

there was no love in the arrangement, no romantic vows exchanged beneath moonlit skies, no promises of forever whispered in soft voices. just firm handshakes and signatures inked on parchment. 

it was a straightforward agreement: kremnos would protect your people in exchange for a union, and you were sent to marry the crown prince, mydeimos, to solidify the alliance.

you had heard his name long before you ever saw his face. prince mydeimos of kremnos —a name whispered with reverence, with fear, with awe; carrying the weight of countless victories carved into the blood-soaked chaos of battlefields.

but none of those stories prepared you for the reality of him.

the grand hall of kremnos' palace feels colder than you imagined.

marble floors stretch endlessly beneath your feet, polished to a gleaming perfection that seems to reflect the distance between you and the life awaiting you here. the walls, adorned with banners of deep reds and golds, do little to warm the oppressive air.

servants pass by in hushed movements, their heads bowed, their whispers inaudible. the air carries the faint aroma of polished wood and lingering incense, yet there is no warmth to be found —not in the hall, not from the people, and certainly not from the man standing at the far end of the room.

you bow slightly out of instinct, a gesture of respect, though you feel foolish doing so in the context of your marriage.

dressed in the royal garb of kremnos, a deep red cloak embroidered with gold thread draped over his shoulders, his marigold eyes lock onto yours with piercing intensity. 

“princess,” he greets you, his words polished to a fault —exactly what you’d expect from a prince.

“your highness,” you reply, matching his formality.

“welcome to kremnos, i trust the journey was not too difficult.” 

it’s not a question, you realize. merely a statement to acknowledge your presence. you offer a polite nod, “the journey was smooth, your highness,” you reply, your voice steady despite the unease creeping into your chest. “thank you for your hospitality.”

you watch as he takes a glass of reddish liquid from a servant standing nearby, lifting it to his lips with ease, the vibrant color catching your eye.

the rich crimson hue seems too unnatural for something as mundane as wine. your gaze fixes on the glass as he drinks, a chill running down your spine as an unsettling thought creeps in.

is he drinking... blood?

your heart skips, a sudden nervousness, and you quickly avert your gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

he catches your stare however, “what is it that you find so fascinating?” 

flustered, you lower your head, stammering, "i... beg your pardon, your highness.”

you can feel your pulse quicken, the heat rising in your cheeks as you panic. the weight of his cold gaze is almost unbearable, and you fear you’ve already made a fool of yourself. 

for a moment, you dare not look at him, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.

the prince casually wipes the red liquid from his lips with the back of his hand, as your eyes drift involuntarily toward the glass once more, still questioning its contents.

his eyes flicker to you as they narrow, “still curious?”

you freeze, wrecking your head for a sensible answer lest you further embarrass yourself.

with a sharp sigh, he places the glass down on the tray. “it’s pomegranate juice, nothing more.”

you blink, stunned for a moment, the absurdity of your previous assumption crashing down on you. 

“pomegranate juice,” you repeat softly, as if testing the words to see if they make sense.

“yes. is that so difficult to believe?”

that night, you lay on the luxurious bed in your chamber, the events of the evening swirling in your mind. you shake your head, embarrassed by your own overactive imagination. 

you turn onto your side, pulling the heavy blankets tighter around you, but sleep evades you.

yes, your husband is a man of few words, fewer emotions, and absolutely no warmth when it comes to you. yet within that frost lies a heart, waiting for the right touch to thaw it.

ACT I: HOW TO DRAW HIS ATTENTION

over the weeks, you've learned many peculiar things about your husband. 

you’ve noticed, for instance, that he always rises before dawn, and spends hours in the training grounds perfecting his form —an unyielding warrior at heart. or how he has an unusual preference for adding goat's milk to his pomegranate juice, a combination that strikes you as strange yet somehow fitting for him. 

you’ve also discovered that, contrary to expectations, he favors the color pink —an oddly delicate choice for a man so rigid in his demeanor. and while he is undeniably polite, he also remains stern and is not one to easily open up, not even to those closest to him.

all that you've learned, you’ve used in an attempt to earn his favor, though your effort often feels like trying to breach a concrete wall.

(one day, you deliberately rise early, before the sun fully breaks over the horizon, and make your way to the training grounds.

there, you find a concealed spot in the shadows, watching him spar with the guards. you’ve gone, in part, because you want him to know you care, but also because of the impressive display of his skill that subconsciously draws you in. 

it’s not long before he notices your presence; his expression remains impassive, but his gaze hardens, narrowing slightly as he observes you making your way to him from across the field.

as you finally reach him, you extend the water in your hand. but just as you take a step closer, your foot catches on an uneven stone. you stumble forward, crashing into him, and spilling the cold water across his chest. 

the gasp that escapes you is quickly followed by frantic apologies.

"princess," he says coolly, the water dripping from his toned muscles, tracing the lines of his broad shoulders and down his chest. "...are you always this clumsy, or is today a special occasion?"

ah. 

well at least he has jokes..?)

or after noticing how he often stays silent during meals, you decide to change the pace. 

(at the dining hall, you ask about his interests, but he only gives brief, impersonal responses; his attention fixed on his plate, quietly indulging in the honey-drenched pancakes. you try to make a lighthearted joke, but he doesn’t even look up, offering only a polite “i see” before the silence drapes over the table again.

so, you finally decide to try a more… direct approach —flattery. surely, no man can resist a little charm, right?

you lean close as you gather all the courage you can muster, batting your eyelashes at him hoping you appear as endearing as you intend.

"i must say, my dear husband, you —uh, you are unmatched in your… strength and wisdom. it’s no wonder my heart can’t help but be drawn to you..?”

well that didn’t exactly sound convincing. 

“and… your arms, they’re quite impressive. i mean —wait, that’s not what i meant—”

and that certainly didn’t make it any better!

you brace yourself, expecting a sharp rebuke or, at the very least, some irritation. but instead, he simply nods, offering a brief, detached “thank you” before turning his attention back to his meal. 

you immediately avert your gaze, feeling a pang of relief. though it’s strange to think that at any moment, your husband might decide to chop your head off for being so foolish (...if he felt so inclined) he is the crowned prince, after all; and while his politeness is unsettling, it’s still better than his wrath... right?)

either way, it’s clear that your efforts have made not the slightest dent. better luck next time!

today will be different.

failure has never sat well with you, and after last night’s mortifying attempt at charming your husband, you refuse to let things end on such a dismal note. if words fail, then perhaps actions will speak louder.

so, with a woven basket tucked under your arm, you wander through the palace gardens first, where roses and marigolds flourish in a riot of color, their petals unfurling like delicate silk under the afternoon sun. honeysuckle vines twist gracefully around the trellises, their sweet fragrance lingering in the warm afternoon air.

you kneel amidst the blooms, fingers brushing over soft petals, feeling the gentle give of each flower beneath your touch. carefully, you pluck a few of each, tucking them gently into your basket, mindful of their fragile stems. you arrange them just so, already picturing the bouquet coming together in your hands.

but as you wander further, you find yourself drawn toward the edge of the estate. past the hedgerows and beyond the garden’s stone pathway, you notice something that catches your eye, a cluster of wildflowers —soft pinks and gentle whites.

perfect! these will be the finishing touch to complete your bouquet for mydeimos.

pleased with yourself, you smile and make your way toward the water’s edge. leaning forward, you stretch out to pluck one, your body lowering toward the ground, shifting your weight slightly, when—

a sudden force slams into your back.

the breath is knocked clean from your lungs. there's no time to react as the world tilts violently, and before you can even scream, the cold shock of water swallows you whole.

it’s deeper than you thought.

icy water rushes into your nose and mouth, sending a searing burn down your throat. panic grips you as the world above fractures into shimmering light, distorted by the rippling surface. you try to push yourself up, but alas, the weight of your dress still drags you down. 

as you thrash around uselessly, your limbs start growing heavier. the surface above you slips further away; and the last thing you register is the sensation of strong arms wrapping around you —with a final strained breath, your vision dims to nothingness.

the next thing you feel is warmth.

your head rests against something solid, a steady rise and fall beneath your cheek .a firm hold keeps you close, one braced securely around your back, the other hooked beneath your knees. 

you blink sluggishly, your lashes heavy with water. that’s when you realise, you’re in the arms of your husband.

his hair clings to his forehead, damp strands framing the sharp angles of his face. droplets trace slow paths down his jawline, soaking into the dark fabric of his tunic —leaving nothing to the imagination.

for a moment, disoriented and breathless, you can only blink up at him.

did he jump in after you..?

“why did you wander off alone?” he chastises, snapping you back to reality. 

your throat feels tight, your heart hammering in your chest. "i-i just wanted to do something for you!" the confession spills from your lips, desperate, your fingers clinging instinctively to the soaked fabric of his sleeve. 

it’s foolish, maybe, but you’re still reeling —from the near drowning, from the fact that mydeimos saved you. 

he exhales sharply, exasperation heavy in his breath. "why are you like this…" his grip tightens on you, but there’s a tension in his voice as if he’s swallowing something he can’t quite put into words. “didn’t i say there’s no need to attract attention this way?"

the accusation stings, your brows knit together as you shake your head, droplets of water slipping down your temples. "i just… thought you’d like some flowers."

his fingers, still curled beneath your back, twitch slightly, his hold unconsciously steadying you.

“you don’t need to do anything reckless just to get my attention," he murmurs at last, his voice softer now, no longer edged with frustration. then, almost hesitantly, he adds, "...if you want something, just come to me."

mydeimos shifts, adjusting his hold on you before finally rising to his feet. the movement is effortless, but even so, a sharp chill runs through you as the air bites at your damp skin. before you can fully steady yourself, he places you down, his hands lingering for a second longer than necessary before withdrawing.

your dress clings uncomfortably to you, heavy with water, and when you glance down, you spot the basket lying a short distance away, half-tilted on the grass. the flowers you so carefully picked are scattered around it, petals crumpled, stems bent. 

a pit forms in your stomach. all that effort, and now—

a shadow moves beside you. mydeimos steps forward, the hem of his cloak grazing against the fallen blooms. he considers them for a moment, then looks back at you.

“well?” his voice is steady, and you can’t quite grasp the intention behind it. “you went through all that trouble to gather the flowers… aren’t you going to give them to me?”

sure they're not nearly as perfect as they were when you first picked them. still, you kneel, fingers brushing over the damp grass as you carefully pick up the least damaged flowers, smoothing out the crumpled petals as best you can.

“…here.” slowly, hesitantly, you extend the bouquet towards him. 

his fingers brush against yours as he accepts the flowers. “sorry they’re ruined,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

he shakes his head, unbothered. “they’re mine now, so i’ll take care of them.”

there’s no mockery in his expression, no disdain for your failed efforts. if anything, there’s something almost unreadable in the way he looks at you, something that makes your heart lurch against your ribs.

he spares you one last glance, then turns. “come. you need to get changed before you fall ill.”

and just like that, your husband walks ahead, idly twirling one of the flowers between his fingers. hardened steel and soft petals, strength and fragility; it doesn't look out of place. 

somehow, it fits him too well.

ACT II: HOW TO CARE FOR A WARRIOR

once a year, the empire erupts into feverish anticipation for the annual gladiatorial tournament. a traditional competition of strength, bloodshed, and sheer willpower.

held in the heart of the capital, within the city of kremnos; warriors from across the kingdom —such as knights from noble houses, seasoned mercenaries, and ambitious upstarts, all gather within the grand coliseum, each vying for glory, honor, or a place in history.

and three weeks from now, the coliseum will roar with life, filled to the brim with nobles and commoners alike, all eager to witness the blood and glory that’ll unfold within the arena. 

the tournament may be weeks away, but mydeimos knows better than to grow complacent. 

within the castle training grounds, the clash of steel echoes through the air, each strike reverberating like a war drum. two figures move in relentless rhythm, locked in a sparring match that is as much a dance as it is a battle.

mydeimos meets his opponent’s strike head-on; phainon, captain of the royal knights, his equal in skill if not in strength, matches him blow for blow. the force of the impact ripples through his arm, but he does not waver. instead, he swiftly pivots, forcing mydeimos onto the defensive.

the crown prince presses forward, his sword carving ruthless arcs through the air, a feint —then a sudden, brutal swing aimed at his opponent’s side. 

phainon barely manages to parry, their blades grinding against each other in a fierce deadlock. exhaling sharply through his nose, he holds firm against the pressure. “mydei,” phainon mutters, breathless. “don't hold back."

mydei’s gaze remains unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something —amusement, perhaps, before he abruptly shifts his weight. with a sharp twist, he breaks the deadlock.

“HKS,” he counters, shoving forward with enough strength to force phainon back a step. “getting tired?”

phainon lets out a short laugh, adjusting his stance. “not in the slightest.” he disengages, spinning his blade in a quick counterstrike.

alas, the fight reaches no clear victor, ending in yet another stalemate.

exhaling, phainon lowers his blade. “not bad.”

but before mydei can respond; a slow, warm trickle down his arm draws his attention. his gaze flickers downward —a thin slash mars his bicep, blood welling along the cut.

the knight’s expression shifts, eyes catching on the wound. “heh looks like i take the win this time,” he gloats, though there’s a slightest hint of concern in his tone. 

“...though i do apologise, your highness,” phainon says, eyeing the wound with a tilt of his head.

mydei rolls his shoulder, testing the ache, then huffs. “nothing to be sorry for.” his lips curl slightly, eyes flicking back to phainon.

“but don’t think this means i’m letting you off easy. we’ll settle it properly next time.”

“oh? and here i thought you’d take the loss with dignity for once,” phainon snorts, sheathing his blade in one smooth motion. “but i suppose i wouldn’t want you growing too accustomed to losing.”

“you land one lucky hit and suddenly you’re talking like you’ve dethroned me.” mydei scoffs, already turning toward the weapons rack. phainon watches him go, shaking his head to himself before following suit. 

mydei doesn’t know why you’re worrying so much.

the cut is insignificant, to him at least. within hours, it’ll be gone —his body already stitching itself back together. he doesn’t need tending to, least of all by you.

and yet, here you are.

as you sit beside him, your hands deftly press a cloth soaked in cool water to his wound, cleaning away the dried blood with careful strokes. for some reason, seeing you like this —fussing over him with a tenderness he’s never quite experienced before —renders him quiet.

“…you’re frowning,” he murmurs.

“because you’re hurt,” you say as a matter of factly, setting the cloth aside before reaching for a bandage. your fingers are gentle as they smooth it over his skin, lightly tracing the curves of his biceps.

he watches the way your lips press together, tying the final knot with a delicate tug, patting the fabric down as if to reassure yourself that it will hold.

something tugs at the edge of his mind. 

you’ve pretended to love him ever since you stepped foot in kremnos; he thought he knew every expression you wore, every feigned tenderness. but this —this time, it’s different. there’s no audience here, no need for the carefully crafted role of the adoring wife.

so why do you still look at him like that?

his breath stills. he doesn’t know what to make of this.

“…please be more careful next time.” mydei glances at his arm, the ache is already fading.

you don’t know how pointless all of this is. by morning, there won’t even be a scar.

you exhale softly, your brows still furrowed in concern. then, as if unable to help yourself, your fingertips ghost over the bandage, smoothing it down with a tenderness that makes his chest tighten.

“does it still hurt?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

he should say no. he should tell you it’s nothing.

but when he looks at you —sees the way your eyes linger on him, so earnestly unguarded. he falters. 

“…not much,” he admits instead. “you act as if i’m on death’s door.”

“and you act as if you’re invincible,” you retort softly.

he freezes.

he almost laughs at the irony of it —because in some ways, you aren’t wrong. his body will always mend itself, his wounds never lasting long enough to be of real consequence. 

but his darling wife doesn’t know that.

and perhaps that’s why he lets you worry, lets you dote on him with such sweet, unknowing devotion. because, against all logic —against everything he’s told himself, he finds that he likes it.

your touch finally retreats, hands settling in your lap. “i’ll leave you to rest, your highness.”

you rise from your seat, and as you turn to leave, mydei catches himself watching the space where your hands had been, the phantom warmth still resting against his skin.

for a wound that’s already gone, he finds it strange —how reluctant he is to let it fade.

ACT III: HOW TO AVOID MISUNDERSTANDINGS

"sir phainon, thank you for showing me around the city," you say, offering the man beside you a faint smile as you step around a corner. 

the knight dips his head, “of course, milady. the pleasure’s all mine."

you’re glad phainon took time off to accompany you —wandering the city alone would’ve definitely left you lost and stewing in your own thoughts. 

phainon glances at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. "but i’m surprised his highness let you wander the city with another man," he muses. 

you let out a small laugh, running your fingers along the petals of a flower display as you pass by. "well, i don’t think he cares."

phainon’s steps slow, his brow lifting ever so slightly, as if he isn’t sure whether he misheard you or if you’re simply playing coy. "you don’t think he—" he exhales a sharp chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "hah. now that’s funny."

you shoot a puzzled look at him,"what is?"

to phainon, who’s seen the way mydei looks at you, heard the way he speaks of you; your words make no sense at all.

—but he holds his tongue. "nothing, milady. let’s keep walking before i say something i shouldn’t."

the warmth of the moment sours when you round a corner near the market square. there, just past a cluster of gossiping nobles, mydei stands stiffly, arms crossed as he listens to a young woman speak.

you recognize her —a lady-in-waiting that serves in the palace.

“…always playing the victim,” she sneers, voice pitched just loud enough to draw attention. “everyone pities her, but really, she’s just an outsider to kremnos—” 

your steps falter, confusion flickering across your face. is that lady… talking about you?

“she was never worthy of standing by his highness’s side!” the lady continues with simpering disdain. 

beside you, your companion stiffens, his fingers subtly curling at his sides. he’s noticed, too.

but before you can fully process the words, she lets out a haughty laugh. “she tripped herself that day. i only gave her a little push and—”

“what?” mydei’s voice cuts through the air, his eyes narrowing. 

the lady startles, whipping around to face him, but quickly smooths her expression into one of feigned innocence. “y-your highness…” she lowers her head just slightly. “i only meant that a mere nudge shouldn’t have been enough to send her stumbling so helplessly.” 

she offers a small, demure smile. “unless, of course, one lacks the grace befitting a princess.”

“it was unfortunate that your highness was troubled because of—” 

her words trail off as her gaze flicks to the side, right where you stand.

and in that fleeting moment, mydei follows her line of sight.

your breath catches. you hadn’t meant to be seen.

a small, almost imperceptible smirk forms on her lips; just as mydei glances to your side, his attention diverted for a split second; she falls toward him, her body angling toward him in a way that all but demands he steady her.

you feel a jolt of realization —her intentions are clear as day towards you. 

mydei’s eyes barely flicker as she topples toward him, but his hand moves —not to steady her, as she so clearly intended, but to seize her wrist in a firm, unyielding grip.

with a sharp tug, he wrenches her upright, the motion not even close to an act of chivalry. 

a startled gasp slips past her lips, her wide eyes darting up, stunned by the strength of his hold. the gathered onlookers murmur amongst themselves as the prince fixes her with a cold, unreadable stare.

“tell me. are you purposely trying to cause a misunderstanding between me and my wife?”

the lady blanches, her mouth opening and closing as she scrambles for a response. “y-your highness, i would never—”

“spare me the excuses.” his fingers uncoil, and she stumbles back, barely catching herself.  she cradles her wrist as though burned, whether from pain or humiliation, it’s hard to tell.

“guards.” mydeimos doesn’t raise his voice, but the command rings clear. two armored figures stationed nearby immediately step forward,  “take her away.”

 “y-your highness, i only—”

mydeimos doesn’t even spare her a glance as he delivers the lady’s fate. “for daring to put her hands on the princess, she is to be punished accordingly. let this serve as a reminder, such conduct has no place in my court.”

the color drains from her face as the guards seize her by the arms, her protests falling on deaf ears. the onlookers part to make way, some exchanging knowing glances, others whispering amongst themselves.

then mydeimos’ gaze softens —only slightly, in your direction. 

phainon leans in, “and yet, milady insists that his highness does not care?”

but you don’t respond, heart fluttering traitorously in your chest as mydeimos turns on his heel and strides toward you.

with a small tilt of his head, he nods to phainon before finally speaking.

“she was desperate,” he remarks, voice edged with dry amusement. “did you see how she threw herself at me? pitiful.”

he studies you for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. “...you weren’t fooled, were you?”

you blink, caught off guard by his question. “of course not, your highness.”

ah. was he worried you’d misunderstand?

his lips part slightly, but no words come, instead he just exhales softly, as if to himself. “good.”

phainon, ever perceptive, arches a brow but says nothing of it. instead, he steps back with a knowing tilt of his head. “well then, i shall take my leave. duty calls, after all, milady, your highness.” with that, he turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd, leaving just the two of you.

mydei’s eyes linger on you —searching, almost reluctant, before he finally tears his gaze away. “we should go.”

he starts walking, and you follow, the quiet rhythm between you shifting in a way that's hard to place. it’s subtle, so subtle that if you weren’t paying enough attention, you might’ve missed it. 

the way his steps fall in sync with yours, slowing his usually large strides ever so slightly,  as if unconsciously matching your pace. the way his hand hovers near yours, close enough that if you swayed even slightly, your fingers might brush.

it doesn’t feel intentional, and yet, it doesn’t feel like an accident either.

the marketplace hums around you both; vendors calling out their wares, the scent of fresh bread and spices curling through the air. but your mind is elsewhere, lingering on the man beside you, on the things left unsaid.

at some point, curiosity gets the better of you. “your highne—” “mydei.”

…would it be foolish of you to think of it as a plea? that, beneath the indifference he wears so well, he cares how his name sounds when spoken by you?

(because with you, he doesn't need to be the prince of kremnos, nor the valiant warrior they call mydeimos. he’s just your husband, mydei.)

you glance up at him, but his gaze stays ahead. he doesn’t offer an explanation; your thoughts linger on that single word, and maybe that’s why, after a moment’s hesitation, you decide to give it a try.

“mydei… what were you doing in the market today?”

he doesn’t answer right away. a terribly fond smile tugging at his lips. 

he looks good like this, you think.

with a glance to the side, he replies, “nothing of importance.”

a half-truth, at best.

your thoughts drift back to the last time you were here —the flowers you had given him, bright and delicate in his hands. an odd sight, perhaps, yet somehow, they suited him.

a ridiculous thought takes root before you can stop it.

could he have been looking for ways to take care of them? …surely not.

but any doubt vanishes the moment a florist calls out to him. “your highness! you’ve returned! here, this is the care guide you requested, along with the special fertilizer. it should help the flowers bloom beautifully.”

mydei takes the offered items with a nod, thanking the florist who beams, clearly pleased to be of service.

"you must truly cherish them, your highness," they remark. "not many would go through such trouble for a simple bouquet."

mydei only hums in response, tucking the items away as he turns back to you. for a moment, it almost seems like he might explain himself, but instead, he merely lifts a brow, as if daring you to say something about it.

warmth unfurls at the edges of your chest, spreading slowly, irresistibly.

you press your lips together, fighting the smile threatening to surface. "so," you muse lightly, "you’ve been taking good care of my flowers?”

mydei exhales, the ghost of an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "it would be a shame if they wilted so soon,” he says. then, as he starts walking again, a quiet afterthought —so soft you almost miss it.

"especially when they were a gift from you."

and this time, when his hand hovers close to yours, you don’t resist the urge to let your fingers brush.

ACT IV: HOW TO TAME HIS JEALOUS HEART

it’s late —past the hour most would retire, yet the training grounds remains lit by torches that flicker against the cool stone walls, their flames casting long, dancing shadows. mydeimos leans back against the walls, arms loosely folded across his chest as his gaze follows phainon sharpening his blade a few paces away —though, truthfully, his thoughts are elsewhere.

it’s phainon who breaks the silence first.

“you know,” he starts, glancing up without looking directly at the prince, “you’re awfully quiet these days, your highness.”

he wipes his sword down lazily, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "...say, mydei."

mydei doesn’t look up, but his posture shifts, "what?"

phainon lets the silence drag for a moment, almost like he’s weighing his next words. 

“do you have genuine feelings for [name]?"

the words land like a blow in the silence between them; he doesn’t bother to wait for an answer.

“because if you don’t, i was thinking maybe i’d give courting her a try.”

ah. that does it.

mydei’s eyes flick to him, and if looks could kill, phainon would be six feet under —and the former wouldn’t even spare the effort to toss dirt over his grave.

phainon laughs quietly under his breath at his comrade’s reaction, not bothering to hide the tilt of his mouth. 

“don’t cross the line.” the words fall from mydei’s lips, low and clipped like a warning.

phainon laughs —the kind of laugh shared only between men who’ve known each other long enough to grow used to the other’s sharp edges.

“relax,” he drawls, sheathing his blade with a lazy flick. “i was just joking, you can stop glaring at me now.”

“i’m not mad i—”

“you’re not mad because you think i meant it,” he cuts in. “you’re angry because you know i’m right. you’ve been walking around pretending like she doesn’t mean a thing to you, bottling up every damn thing you feel for her. if it were anyone else, they’d have given up by now.”

mydei looks away. “she’s not anyone else,” he mutters. 

phainon smiles. “then tell her.”

mydei stays uncharacteristically silent as phainon steps past with a clap on his shoulder. “you're lucky she’s patient.”

the sour look on your husband’s face whenever phainon’s name comes up is a recent development. 

you first noticed it in passing: an almost imperceptible downturn of his lips, a restrained (but still noticeable) eyeroll or the press of his lips into a tight line. at first, you thought nothing of it. but lately… it’s been happening a lot.

right now, you’re seated in the castle’s sunlit tea room with someone you can now call a friend —phainon. the scent of fresh brews curls in the air, warm and comforting, but it does little to soothe the frustration tightening in your chest.

phainon leans back in his seat as you lay your troubles before him. surely, as one of mydei’s closest friends, he could offer some worthwhile advice on how to win the latter’s heart.

because at this rate, if you don’t manage to win him over before your contract runs its course, you wouldn’t be surprised to wake up with his sword cold against the nape of your neck.

“so… what do you think?” you ask, poking at a pastry with your fork.

phainon hums, tilting his head in thought. “he’s a reserved man —you’ve probably figured that out by now. give him some time, he’s the type to take forever to realize what’s right in front of him.”

he shrugs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “though, i do hope milady won’t give up on him just yet.”

you nod, committing his words to memory, but then he suddenly straightens, that familiar glint of mischief lighting his gaze.

“actually,” he muses, glancing down at his hands, now dusted with crumbs and icing, “my hands are a bit of a mess from this cake. mind doing me a favor?” 

he lifts his sugar-coated fingers in emphasis.

you eye him suspiciously. “...what kind of favor?”

phainon tilts his head, his smile just sly enough to make you wary. “feed me.”

narrowing your eyes, you scoff at his request, “look, buster—”

“just this once,” he interrupts, grinning. “think of it as repaying me for my advice.”

there’s something almost too innocent about the way he leans in, like he’s well aware of what he’s doing… or rather, what exactly might happen if a certain someone were to walk in.

still, with an exaggerated sigh, you pick up a piece of pastry and lift it towards him—

only for a firm grip to catch your wrist before you can.

just your luck.

mydei smoothly takes the sweet straight from your fingers, his lips brushing against your fingertips in the process; his gaze locked onto yours as he takes a bite. 

and before you can pull away —the barest hint of his tongue swipes against the sugar-dusted tips of your fingers, licking away the faint trace of sweetness left behind.

did he just—?

heat rushes to your face. your mouth parts, but no sound comes out.

phainon whistles lowly. “oh yeah i forgot to mention,” he says, far too amused.

“the prince has a sweet tooth.”

for a moment, the only sound in the room is the soft clink of porcelain as phainon sets down his teacup, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement.

all you can do is stare —frozen, pulse skittering in your throat. 

mydei, on the other hand, is utterly unbothered. if anything, he looks as composed as ever, chewing leisurely, as if he didn’t just—

your fingers twitch in his grasp. finally, he releases your wrist, his touch lingering just a second too long before he pulls away.

you snatch your hand back like you’ve been burned, curling your fingers against your palm as if that will erase the phantom heat of his lips, the fleeting press of his tongue.

phainon wonders if he’s about to be thrown out of the castle with the way you and mydei glare at him (for different reasons, respectively)... but judging by his smirk, he finds the risk well worth it.

the annual gladiatorial tournament is only days away, and kremnos is already stirring with anticipation. you’ve heard the chatter in the halls, the wagers placed on champions, the hushed whispers of which warriors will rise and which will fall. 

seated on a bench near the training grounds, you let the rhythmic clash of weapons fade into background noise, your focus trained instead on the fabric in your hands. a delicate handkerchief, its edges carefully stitched, the embroidery thread gliding through with each careful motion of your needle.

you had learned from a few noble ladies: it’s tradition for warriors to receive tokens of fortune from their beloveds —most commonly, a handkerchief embroidered with care to carry into battle as a reminder that someone’s waiting for them to return.

before you, the clash of steel rings out as two men spar. you glance up just in time to see phainon nimbly dodge a particularly heavy swing, a grin tugging at his lips. “feeling a little aggressive today, aren’t we?”

mydei doesn’t respond. he simply readjusts his grip on his sword, his expression unreadable.

(if you had to put money on why mydei was more aggressive than usual, you’d wager it had something to do with that stunt phainon pulled a few days ago that had left the former in such a foul mood.)

you return to your stitching, pretending not to notice the way your husband’s eyes flicker toward you between exchanges. unknowingly, a small smile tugs at your lips as you press the needle through the cloth once more.

rumors had circulated for years that prince mydeimos had never once accepted a handkerchief from anyone. not from the ladies who fawned over him at court, not from the admirers who sighed at the sight of his swordsmanship, not even from those with the highest of pedigrees.

it was said that no handkerchief had ever found its way into his hands, let alone remained in his possession. you weren’t sure why; perhaps he found them frivolous, or maybe he had no interest in sentimental keepsakes when he relied on skill alone to survive.

…which didn’t exactly bode well for the one currently in your hands.

so as you carefully stitch your embroidery, you don’t hold out much hope that he’ll accept yours either. 

still, it wouldn’t do for the beloved wife of mydeimos to be the only one who hadn’t even offered her husband a handkerchief. whether he accepted it or not was secondary —your duty was to at least play the part expected of you.

as the sparring match winds down, mydei steps off to the side, catching his breath. you discreetly watch as him roll his shoulders, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow.

you glance back down at your embroidery, but before you can add another stitch, phainon strides up to you, shaking out his arms with an exaggerated sigh. “ow… you saw that, right?” he whines, flopping down beside you with an exaggerated sigh. “he’s being so rough with me today!”

you arch a brow, biting back a laugh as he leans against the edge of the bench. “poor thing,” you say, amused. “what did you do to deserve it?”

phainon grins. “absolutely nothing, milady.”

you shake your head, obviously unconvinced —but then, just like that, his playful pout melts into a coprophagous grin that spells nothing but trouble. 

oh no.

“if he wants to be mean,” he muses, tilting his head, “then maybe i should give him a reason for it.”

you frown. “phainon—”

he says, far too casually, “i think i’ve got an idea.”

he leans in slightly, a wolfish grin on his face. “just play along, alright?”

“huh?”

"here, let me show you something." before you can react, phainon takes your hand, pulling you up from your seat with ease. a moment later, a wooden practice sword is tossed into your grasp.

you barely have time to protest before he’s already behind you, his hands resting lightly over yours as he adjusts your grip.

"see?" his voice is low, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath near your ear. "you hold it like this, and—"

“that’s enough.”

both you and phainon turn to see mydei standing a few feet away. he doesn’t look outwardly furious, but there’s the tension in his shoulders says enough.

phainon merely raises an eyebrow. “oh? something wrong, your highness?”

the air thickens and you can practically feel the sparks flying. sensing the storm that’s about to break, you quickly slip out of phainon’s grasp and rush toward mydei, practically throwing yourself into his arms.

“mydei!” you call, mustering the sweetest voice you can manage, hoping to calm him down (before phainon gets his ass kicked again). “y-you must be exhausted after all that training today… why don’t we head back and get some rest?” 

a warm hand brushes against your temple, fingers gently threading through your hair as they tuck it behind your ear. 

even though you were the one who threw yourself at mydei, you find yourself frozen, heart hammering at the unexpected tenderness in his touch. 

his gaze is so unbearably soft.

after a moment, mydei exhales and nods before leading you away.

you steal a glance back at phainon—who only winks and flashes you a thumbs-up.

(mydei lets out a quiet sigh of relief, watching as you do everything in your power to avoid meeting his eyes. if he had stayed any longer and if phainon had caught sight of the faint flush dusting his cheeks —he’d never hear the end of it.)

ACT V: HOW TO EARN HIS DEVOTION

the sun hangs high above kremnos, casting a golden blaze over the arena as the city wakes to the sound of distant drums and the clang of steel. colorful banners bearing the insignias of noble houses flutter from towering spires, while anticipation clings thick to the air.

all of kremnos knows what day it is. the long-awaited gladiatorial tournament has finally arrived.

from the highest nobles draped in silk to the lowest commoners pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in the stands, all eyes are drawn to the bloodstained sand at the heart of the arena. 

the rules are simple, brutal, unforgiving: fight until your opponent yields, or until they can no longer stand. and of course, there's no word for “mercy” in the kremnoan language… as mydei would say it.

the air in the holding chambers, hidden beneath the grand coliseum, is heavy with the scent of iron and sweat. you step inside with your small offering in hand: the handkerchief you embroidered, each stitch woven with thoughts of him.

and today, you see you’re not alone. the corridor is packed with people, mostly noblewomen, some nervous sweethearts, all fluttering around their chosen champions, many bearing the same tradition in their palms.

you catch sight of more than a few stretching their handkerchiefs out to mydei, vying for even a small glance. a small crowd trails him like petals in a storm, calling his name with saccharine lilts, each desperate to be noticed.

with the way he’s being swarmed, you resign yourself with a small sigh, clutching your own handkerchief, fingers curling gently around the cloth you spent the last few evenings stitching. 

nevermind. maybe you’ll give it to phainon instead. he always appreciates the gesture, and at the very least, you’d get a smile out of him.

so your eyes scan the crowd instead, searching for—

only to freeze when you look up and see someone else already standing in front of you.

without a word, your husband takes the handkerchief from your hand, presses it to his brow, and dabs away the sweat collecting at his temple; then folds it neatly and tucks it into his belt where everyone can see.

you blink, momentarily startled.

warmth spills into your chest, it’s strange. he never accepts handkerchiefs from anyone. not a single soul has ever earned that privilege. but today, in front of all these people, he’s taken yours without a second thought.

it’s a light gesture, but it says enough coming from the kremnoan prince. 

and if he’s going to make such a bold move, you might as well tease him a little.

you tilt your head, a mischievous smile playing at your lips. “that’s sir phainon’s, you know.”

he stills for a moment, a flash of annoyance crossing his face before he furrows his brows in an almost adorable pout. 

“then he’ll just have to go without,” he mutters.

you’ve never seen him look quite like this before —caught off guard and... flustered?

“... and i wanted one today.”

“well, since you’ve gone through all that trouble,” you say with a grin, “i suppose i’ll let you keep it.”

as you study him, a thought crosses your mind. you raise an eyebrow, “are you nervous about the tournament?”

his eyes flick to yours, “there is no word for ‘fear’ in the kremnoan language,” he replies, his voice low and confident. 

it’s the kind of thing only mydeimos would say. and yet, something about the resolve in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

you manage a soft smile. “then bring back the victor’s crown for me, will you?”

honestly it's more of a vow than a request, you’d be content just seeing him return in one piece. but he takes it seriously anyway. 

“if it’s for you,”

his expression softens for just a moment, and without missing a beat, he nods, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“i’d do anything.”

ACT VI: HOW TO BE VICTORIOUS

from your seat among the nobles, your gaze searches for him. the threads of your dress pinched between trembling fingers, creased from how often you’ve clutched it. 

ever since you’ve come to kremnos, you’ve grown used to the sound of battle, but today every strike echoes a little louder in your ears. 

your heart clenches every time mydei stumbles or blood splashes across the sand. even knowing how strong he is, how capable, there’s a twist of worry that doesn’t loosen its grip. 

the kind you only feel when the person you care about is the one walking straight into danger.

you’d heard stories of what the tournament demands, but seeing it for yourself… it’s surreal. 

the crowd cheers for violence.

warriors enter the arena one by one, facing off not only against each other, but against beasts dragged from the darkest corners of the empire —corrupted titankins, two-headed hounds, massive golems wreathed in flame; just to name a few.

and each time, the gates crash open with a deafening clang, releasing something more vicious than the last. still, he doesn’t falter. when a snarling beast lunges for his throat, he drives his sword deep into its ribs without a second thought. 

the nobles cheer and holler around you, drunk on spectacle. but your eyes don’t leave him, not for a moment.

because while the crowd may be here for blood, all you want… 

is to be the first thing mydei sees when it’s over.

the last of the other competitors lie in heaps of blood and sand, either devoured by the beasts or incapacitated by the prince. there’s no one left to challenge him except the creature before him.

the towering beast staggers toward him; your pulse spikes, hands gripping the edge of your seat as you hold your breath. every step it takes sends tremors through the arena floor, snarls echoing off stone as it bears down on him with a murderous roar.

the beast lunges, jaws snapping wide, but mydei meets it with unyielding resolve. his sword arcs through the air, a flash of silver against the blood-soaked dusk. the beast jerks, a guttural screech tearing from its throat as it rears back. 

for a heartbeat, you can't tell who’s fallen.

then, through the settling haze, you see mydei standing, blood splattered across his armor, chest heaving with exertion. the beast lets out a final screech —and then crumples to the sand in a thunderous collapse.

for a heartbeat, there’s silence. and then the crowd erupts into a deafening cheer.

“mydei!” you cry out, your heart racing as you push through the sea of people to get closer.

he lifts his gaze, and it’s you he finds.

the victor’s crown, gleaming beneath the sun, is placed into his hands. and he raises it high above his head for all to see. 

a roar erupts from the coliseum, the crowd surging to its feet as the name mydeimos echoes from every corner, chanted with unrelenting fervor.

and without hesitation, he strides toward you, his face softening as he approaches.

in a flash, he wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. he spins you in a wide, sweeping circle before drawing you close. his eyes locking with yours, a triumphant grin playing on his lips. 

with a tenderness that belies his warrior's demeanor, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

"yours," mydei whispers. he lifts the victor’s crown in both hands, and with all the devotion of a man offering his heart, places it gently atop your head.

you reach up to his bloodied face, your hand trembling slightly as the warmth of his skin seeps into your fingers. your palm comes to rest against his cheek.

“you came back to me,” you murmur.

he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment —like he’s been waiting for this, aching for it.

“i always will.”

you rise onto your toes, closing the distance between you.

at the end of the day, all mydei seeks is not victory or glory, but the soft sound of his name on the lips of his beloved, wrapped in an embrace that makes him forget the harshness of the battlefield.

EPILOGUE: HOW TO WIN HIM OVER

the question that once haunted your thoughts —how could i ever win his heart? —feels like a distant memory now, an answer long since found.

mydei looks at you with a softness in his eyes that you’ve come to know as a rare gift. his hand, calloused from battles fought and won, reaches for yours, his fingers brushing against yours before entwining it. 

“by the way, i’m actually… immortal. my injuries heal up after a while.”

you blink at him in confusion, and he chuckles softly, the sound warm and fond.

“wait, then that time when you—” you pause, recalling the night you carefully wrapped up his injury.

he grins, a small, playful glint in his eyes. ”i just like the way you worry over me.”

the admission leaves a flutter in your chest as his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand. 

you huff, pretending to be upset, though your heart races at the softness in his words. “you mean to say all that time i was worried sick over you for nothing?”

he tilts his head, feigning innocence. “it wasn’t for no reason,” he says, clearly trying not to smile. “i liked it. still do.”

you narrow your eyes, lips tugging into a pout. “well, you could’ve told me sooner! now i feel ridiculous.”

with a soft chuckle, mydei’s fingers brush through your hair in a gentle, almost apologetic gesture. he ruffles it lightly, his touch surprisingly tender. “you’re adorable when you’re upset,” he murmurs, his voice holding a sweetness that makes your heart skip a beat.

you can’t help but soften, the playful anger fading as his hand lingers for a moment longer. he pulls you a little closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. “don’t be mad. i’ll let you fuss over me for as long as you want, as long as you’re by my side.”

“you better mean that! i’m holding you to it.”

he hums, the sound low and content as he presses a kiss to your temple. “i do,” he whispers. “if there’s one thing i’ll always be sure of, it’s you.”

you think back to every hesitation, every guarded glance, the walls he built high around his heart. and now, that same heart rests in your hands. 

“looks like i managed to win you over after all,” you tease softly.

the way he looks at you says more than words ever could —as if you’re the only war he’s ever been glad to lose.

his fingers stay curled around yours; his heart laid bare with the quiet, breathtaking certainty that he is yours, as much as you are his.

"i love you, [name]."

and if this is victory, it’s the sweetest one yet.

thank you for reading!! reblogs are appreciated <3

MASTERLIST

[o-pandora-o]

This is so good I ALWAYS re-read this whenever this passes by.

[o-pandora-o]

WHB Requests Closed for now~

Requests so far:

nsfw one shot with Agares (female + praise kink) - FINISHING THIS ONE UP WITH THE NSFW SCENE

NSFW oneshot with gamigin and afab!s/o that has a kink in dragons

NSFW oneshot or headcanon of whb! gamigin with an s/o that has a huge breeding kink but also adores to praise him during the sex

Satan, Naberius, and Amon x reader Spanking kink, Praise, and maybe bondage

WHB Naberius, Amon, Barbatos, Gusion, Belial, Sitri, and Zagan with shy gn s/o

NSFW headcanons for WHB Satan, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Valefor, Beleth, and Mammon with a female s/o who has a praise kink

NSFW headcanons for WHB Belphegor, Bimet, Astaroth, Ronove & Bael with a female s/o who has a praise kink

NSFW headcanons for WHB Naberius, Amon, Barbatos, Gusion, Belial, Sitri, and Zagan with a female s/o who has a praise kink

WHB Naberius, Amon, Barbatos, Gusion, Belial, Sitri, and Zagan asking for a trick when his shy gn s/o explained what's a trick or treat to him so they asked him to sit down & close his eyes. Their trick is to go behind him to lean on his back with their hands on his shoulders & whisper softly to their ear "Boo"

WHB Belphegor, Bimet, Astaroth, Ronove & Bael asking for a trick when his shy gn s/o explained what's a trick or treat to him so they asked him to sit down & close his eyes. Their trick is to go behind him to lean on his back with their hands on his shoulders & whisper softly to their ear "Boo".

WHB Satan, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Valefor, Beleth, and Mammon asking for a trick when his shy gn s/o explained what's a trick or treat to him so they asked him to sit down & close his eyes. Their trick is to go behind him to lean on his back with their hands on his shoulders & whisper softly to their ear "Boo"

head cannons for Satan, Mammon, Zagan, and Sitri with an Mc (Afab) that is a soft dom mommy with a breastfeeding kink

NSFW Oneshot with Stolas (Gn s/o with praise kink) while doing it outside

Satan, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Mammon, Belphegor and Lucifer with a female s/o like Malleus Draconia

NSFW Imagines/Oneshot of Mammon & Beleth in a school setting with sub!female reader (Discord Request)

NSFW Gamigin Oneshot (Bath sex) with amab! s/o (Discord request)

Headcanons of Gabriel reacting/acting around yandere/obsessive s/o or Gabi in school setting getting stalked by yandere/obsessive a!fab reader (Discord Request)

Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Lucifer and Belphegor with a fem! Mc (Face similar to Solomon, but personality is similar to Maomao from Apothecary Diary) - I NEED TO WATCH AND READ (I WANT TO READ APOTHECARY DIARIES SO BADLY )

Reaction of Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Lucifer and Belphegor towards a S/o or mc who is like Roxana agriche

NSFW Valefor x Amab! s/o, summer festival fun (having fun but then both get slightly drunk and fuck) (Discord Request)

one shot of beel x fem!reader (with the same personality as him) but involving vore - I mean vore is a kink of swallowing so meh idm, i wont be too extreme tho

NSFW Oneshot Delinquent Satan with Female! s/o who hates him (Enemies to lovers) (Discord Request)

Genderbent Kings

King's reaction if one of them (kings) suddenly become genderbent amidst a meeting

WHB Men x Chubby! Reader series

WHB Men Streamer! Au (Part 2 - Asmodeus, Lucifer, Belphegor)

Bael x reader headcanons (general)

Modern AU kings (Part 2 Kings + when they get into a relationship with em)

Text with green = finishing up after several changes in drafts Text with red = have rough ideas / potentially one of the fics will be next to be written thoroughly.

As I've previously said in my last fic, somehow the first come first serve method no longer works on me ;-; so I'll alternate from the red ones to the white ones upon writing. I'll do my best to post one hc per week.

-Pandora (04-05-2025 11:16 PM)

[o-pandora-o]

CURRENT UPDATES AND WIPS

[o-pandora-o]

I'M FREE TO COMMENT!!! My Belphegor, Bimet, Astaroth, Ronove & Bael with shy gender-neutral s/o request is so good! I love it especially he accepted their invitation but he mentioned he would sleep during the movie 🎥 , he fell asleep right after answering their question 🤣, they covered him with a blanket 👍, he absolutely loves sleeping on their lap that it's doesn't matter if it's in public or they're too shy like me >///<, they had to always beg Beleth to carry him to bed because of their numb legs 🛏️, he finds their shyness cute despite thinking being blunt saves a lot of trouble 🤭, they asked if they shouldn't have a date outside 🥺, he's the one who said he shouldn't win all the time 🥹, he approves of the food they chose for him 👍, he didn't hesitate to correct the waiter 👍, he loves patting their head because of how flustered they are 😳, he likes it if they're comfortable with him as he rests on their lap 🗣️, their voice is a lullaby to him 😌, he actually was awake to ask how was their day (⁠゜⁠o⁠゜⁠; they only stopped when they noticed he's asleep 🛑, he asked why they stopped & said he likes it when they talk which they blushed 😍, he appreciates them trying to go out of their comfort zone although for 2 different reasons 😅, he asked without judgement 👍, it's because of his encouragement 🥹, he praised them & kissed their forehead before sleeping with a smile ☺️, they left while blushing >///<, he would actually slap their butt when he's naughty & awake enough but they would only see him asleep 😴, Bimet would acknowledge their preferences for a simple reason 👍, he noticed & asked which they answered honestly 👍, he held them close & it's for free which they blushed 😳, he actually decided to use some of his money on them later on like buying lunch 💰, he's brutally blunt when their older is wrong & stopped because of them 🛑, he wants them to be scammed by him only 😅, he actually called himself their scammer as he hugged them (⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!, he wants payment 😏which they facepalmed like me (Of course he would 🤣), Astaroth won't hesitate to corrupt them at all even in public 😳, he also does it so they won't leave him 🥺, they had to take their sick leave because they're in bed with him last time 🤣, they compromised tonight instead >///<, he's a bit insecure if someone corrupted them 🥺, he absolutely loves to hear them rant 👂, they tried to stop him because they won't be able to rest tonight O///O, Ronove stops himself from having physical contact with them so he won't go crazy 👍, he holds their hand instead 🤭, he would reassure how pretty they are when they're insecure 🥹, they have permission to put a gag on him when he gets carried away 👍, he talks dirty to them when he's horny from seeing angels cut up 😳, Bael apologised that he's too busy to watch movies with them 🎥, they understand especially why he's so busy 😅, they hang out with him as he worked 👍, he knows how they feel by their scent 👃, he wants to savour their relationship 🥹, he does feel insecure about not treating them well 🥺, they would reassure him that they like him for him 😤, he would be shy about wanting to smell the sweat in their legs 🦵, they're concerned about him 👍, and he apologised when they couldn't walk the best day because he couldn't hold back XD Thank you so much for doing my request because I love it so much :)

I always get shocked whenever yall give me a wall of text XD. But anyways thank you so much for appreciating what I made!

[o-pandora-o]

Thank you for letting us know! Please take all the time you need 🥺

Thank you but i really feel bad to really delaying the fics ngl ;-;

[o-pandora-o]

What in Hell is Bad? Kings! Steamer AU! Part 1 (Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub)

In the demon world where streaming is a trend, what would the kings stream?

a/n: I wrote this because I had inspiration from HCs (from HSR). I'm trying my best to be interested again in WHB, will post more Hcs and fics this year, I promise. I have several fics that are WIPS and now I'm just writing the ending of several parts. I will probably do and post the ones I have most interest in, as apparently first come first serve isn't working for my brain LMAO.

Satan

🩸 Satan would be a streamer that plays multiplayer online battle arena games (MOBA) (e.g. League of Legends, Dota 2, etc.)

🩸 He mostly uses DPS/Atk based characters. If he needs to change roles (Tank/Support) it's still on DPS/Atk build. You're asking him to revive you? Nope. He's killing the enemy team using a healer. You're asking him to tank? Nope. He's gotta be the MVP (enemy deaths, not as support).

"Hah face me like a man, you scaredy cat!"

🩸 In terms of his setup, it was a simple gaming setup with LED lights and a decent gaming chair. The background was simple, a few posters, Gundam Models, and a few figures here and there.

🩸 Invites and plays with mammon often (and streams it). One time, he invited Mammon to play League (it was Mammon's first time playing), he raged when Mammon became the MVP and doesn't know the significance of it.

"YOU TOLD ME THIS WAS YOUR FIRST TIME PLAYING??"

Mammon laughs heartily "Hahahah it was! I kind of enjoyed it"

"YOU FUCKIN-" Satan's mods muted his mic for sa safety of the ears of the viewers.

🩸 Hosts one of those games where viewers can also challenge Satan. Of course no one beats him.

🩸 Satan is secretly called by his fanbase as "Sahua", which was short for Satan Chihuahua.

"Sahua gettin mad, get yo popcorns ready" A viewer commented.

Satan saw this and asked "Who is Sahua?"

The chat flooded with 'Uh oh..." "he's onto us...."

Satan got more curious and said "Okay ya'll are hinding something! Who the $%&# is Sahua?"

One anonymous viewer commented "Sahua = Satan Chihuahua"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLIN CHIHUAHUA?!" his mod, Sitri, decided to cut the connection before Satan decides to ban his viewer one by one.

🩸 His fanbase and viewers are called Warriors of Gehenna (he named himself).

"It's kinda cringey..." Beelzebub says

"TF YOU MEAN IT'S CRINGEY, YOU $=#£"

Mammon

🪙Mammon would be the type of streamer that plays Gacha games (similar to Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail, Wuthering waves etc.) and Casual games (Stardew Valley etc.).

🪙Tartaros being the lead country of technology, he owns the MOST expensive gaming PC and chair known to mankind, his chair even has the built in massage function.

🪙Once invited Satan to one of his streams while playing Stardew Valley. Satan once commented to "stop being a wuss" because Mammon played Stardew Valley but little did he know Satan was becoming hooked.

🪙Hosts one of those events where he pulls on viewer's accounts. Ofc you can trust him with your account because he's hella rich.

🪙If he loses on a viewer's account, he'll ALWAYS swipe because he feels bad.

"Oh. I lost the banner." After a while....*insert recharge noise* "Alright, where were we?"

"Congrats y/n for winning the limited character banner!!!" he said as he laughed heartily.

🪙He also hosts one of those Minecraft Realms that is open to the public. Though his server mods, Bimet and Valefor, occasionally bans players who uses cheats.

🪙He hosts giveaways and competitions for his fanbase. For giveaways, he picks fans randomly from his livestream. For competitions, it's mostly art competitions (despite of being one of the people who have the best gadgets and pc, he hates AI work).

🪙He appreciates and keeps all of the artworks of him. He currently has a gallery filled with all the artworks and even a TV that plays his fanbase's creation of him whether it be memes, best videos of him (edited) or even animations.

"Oi. How come you have a lot of artworks from your viewers?" Satan asks, a bit jealous.

"I don't really curse at them when they lose at games" Mammon smiles at Satan

"WHAT DOES THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN, HUH?!"

🪙His fanbase and viewers are called Mammy's, which is a cuter and shorter name for Mammon's (get it? Because he own's all of you...).

Leviathan

⚰️"Streaming? Why would I please other people? They should please me for giving them an ample amount of my time. No, they should hang themselves for wasting my time!" Leviathan said as he set up his camera.

⚰️He does vlogs instead of streaming. He mostly creates a series of "Daily Life in Hades", which is honestly just the camera pointing at him while he signs documents.

⚰️In some occasion, viewers can see a naked Barbatos running around the garden (which results in Levi hanging him), Glasylabolas recommending Caskets and Torture devices (which Levi covers the camera), and Leviathan getting caught into Orias' traps and schemes kill Leviathan (in which Foras covers the camera instead).

⚰️In a rare instance, Leviathan plays games (preferably mind games such as Chess) with viewers.

"Pfft you call that games? Hah. Boring!" Satan scoffs.

Mammon laughs heartily and pats Satan's head. "Call it boring but he still makes an effort to entertain his viewers" Mammon states as Satan tries to bite off his hand.

"Why are you idiots here and why are you talking about what I do?! Get out or I'll hang you both!!"

⚰️The viewers and fanbase call levi as Levianyan because of his similarity to a cat; beautiful, sassy, and just a tsundere.

"Stop calling me that! I'm not as weak as a cat! I'll hang all of you one by one!" Leviathan glares at his chat

"Hah! Look at this one getting called a cat by his fanbase! But you know it's kinda cute if your fanbase gives you a nickname" Satan smiles smugly.

"WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?" Leviathan covers his camera and all of you can hear small explosions and fighting.

⚰️The fanbase and viewers also call themselves "The Levianyan Club" while some...extra lively viewers call themselves "Leviathan's Skincare Routine" (Leviathan does me before going to bed)

"Skincare routine? That's a lively fanbase Hahahaha" Mammon comments on his recent live stream (just a casual talking stream)

"Ugh don't even ask, Mammon." Leviathan glares as he responds to Mammon's chat.

Beelzebub

🕶️He does both streaming and vlogging. He plays cooking mama and some adventure or open world games. While he sometimes vlog about his daily life, travels, and usually ASMR mukbang (eating tons of food).

🕶️He plays cooking mama and recreates the recipes with his own twist. Fried chicken with ice cream? Yeah he does this. Hotdogs and pancakes as hotdog buns? Tastes good! However some recipes.... aren't as good.

🕶️He also plays open world games like Genshin Impact or Minecraft. He lets the viewers join him but there are instances he left the game open and gets distracted by something else.

"Imma go get more food and soda!!" Beel said hurrying.

After a while the chat goes "Beel?" "OML he left us again!" "That's Beel for you....a fly"

🕶️Most of the time Bael will go take over, saying the stream has to stop because Beel decided to buy Pizza...in another country. "Uh Chat....the stupid king can't continue the stream. I apologize for the inconvenience..." You all heard Bael say, as he rubs his temples while facing the camera.

The chat goes "Can you play with us instead, Bael?"

"Me? Well... let's look at his character first...LEVEL 30 AT A WORLD LEVEL WITH ENEMIES ARE 60?" Bael had a migraine.

-Sometimes play with Satan and Mammon but...well you know the drill....he often gets distracted, and leaves the game (irl).

"Bell we need help here? Where are you?" Satan asked as he's focused in killing the enemy in front of him.

"Bell?" Mammon asked while in voice chat.

They both died because of the enemy.

"BEELZEBUB WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? BELL??" Satan screeches and Mammon laughs as they both know he's gone.

🕶️There were times wherein he live streams mukbang, he stands up to get a drink and ultimately forgets about the stream LMAO. Which leaves him accidentally streaming 'a daily life in Avisos'.

"We got the new menu from House of Avisos! Fried Chicken with Angel Blood, Devil Noodles with extra sauce, and Magma Cakes!! Oh wait we can't forget the drink now!!"

🕶️If he accidentally leaves the live stream open, you can see: Amon drooling at the food that was left, Naberius and Stolas running and flying around, and Bael screaming on top of his lungs while holding a shit ton of receipt "BEELZEBUB COME BACK HERE, I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE!!!"

🕶️Beel would most likely start the stream, Bael would take over and end the stream. Is that what we call friendship?

-His fanbase and viewers call him "Fly King", while they (fanbase) call themselves "Flies".

"Fly King? Suits him well." Leviathan comments

"Jealous, Levianyan?" Satan sneers as he typed.

"Stop calling me that!" Leviathan glares at Satan's comment.

[starrygazers]

in my streamer era?!

aka: modern au streamer characters and their life with you.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ felt like writing smth more lighthearted (once again procrastinating on my homework)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : modern au, fluff, crack

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei, Phainon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Phainon ➤ vlogs, irl streams

Phainon loves traveling and talking to people, which makes him the perfect irl streamer. he has a large following due to the fact that he's so polite and friendly to everyone, but somehow his streams always go wrong in the funniest, murphy's-law-esque way

he's streaming in a restaurant and reviewing the food and the next moment a waiter trips and spills a water jug right to his camera and lowers the video quality for the rest of the stream

or he'd be doing a grocery run and the things that he wants are all gone, and he has to ride the bus to the grocery store that's further away, and the bus would blow a tire in the middle of the highway so now he's hungry and stranded with no groceries

these somewhat harmless, silly and unexpected situation keeps his viewers entertained, and the fact that he's always so optimistic about it has viewers donating to his streams to cheer him up whenever something goes wrong

his mods are so protective of him that if anyone starts trolling they'd be banned in an instant

when he first met you, it was by chance, and you don't recognize him (he's a niche even on streaming sites; his fans gatekeep him because they don't want people trolling this nice boy)

he falls in love with you immediately, and it's so obvious by the way he talks about you on stream.

"chat, there's this person," he lays the camera down on the counter and starts unloading his groceries. "and they're so... like... I don't know how to say it. they're so pretty, but also so scary to talk to, but it's not because they're mean or anything, I think it's a me problem. do you guys ever feel like that about someone?"

of course, his chat teases him relentlessly about his newfound crush

once he finally has the guts to ask you out (someone sent him a super donation telling him to, and he feels bad not doing it), you say yes, and he's over the moon.

he introduces you to his chat, and even though you're a bit confused and new to all of this, your personality balances out with Phainon's so well that his community can't help but love you

he doesn't film all your dates; in fact, he rarely ever does. whenever you're on stream, it's because you're both spending time chilling or cooking or doing grocery runs together. he likes to keep a small portion of his life private, and he doesn't want you to feel like you're a tool for his moneymaking scheme.

overall, he's such a nice understanding boyfriend, and if having a camera around you is too much then he'll respect your space and schedule his streams around days that he'll spend alone so he can have you all to himself without any distractions.

Mydei ➤ fighting games, tourneys

you can't convince me this man isn't some sort of fighting game god, particularly tekken, mortal kombat, smash, or something in the likes

he'll spend hours just 1v1-ing randoms on the internet, and he's got his friend code public for anyone who wants to try to challenge him.

this obviously brings a lot of traction because there are a lot of tryhards who want to test if Mydei's the real deal (he is, and he does so while talking shit and not breaking a sweat)

fans enjoy his straightforward, no-bullshit commentary (roasts) while he destroys players with a straight face. it's almost comedic how such a stoic man could have such a petty personality, and chat always teases him for it, but he could not care less (whatever brings in the bag)

"Get out of here if you can't even jablock, man. All that big talk for you to not even take a stock from me is just embarrassing," he spits out. "You're so mean, he's trying his best, yeah, sure, chat. He should try his best recovering from the sauce I'm about to do to him."

he'll sometimes do irl streams when he's in tournaments. he'll do a hotel tour (begrudgingly, because he keeps getting donations forcing him to do it)

he's by no means funny because he tries to be. people just find his mean commentary and resting bitch face amusing, and he's also good looking, so he has a lot of fangirls

he's been in a relationship with you since before he started streaming. matter of fact, you were the one who suggested streaming (because if he's going to spend that many hours on something might as well try to make money from it)

you often walk in on him while he's in his man cave, and you'll stay a bit to chat with him or interact with the chat

if his fangirls are mean to you, they get banned immediately ("MODS!!!! GET THEM THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!")

he's very proud to call himself your boyfriend. Whenever someone tries to flirt with you in chat, he'll have a quip comeback of some sort about how they can try but you're in a very healthy, very secure relationship

he is unfortunately the type of streamer to have lots of tiktok edits to chase atlantic songs (iykyk)

but he'll only repost his fan edits shipping him and you <3

definitely the type of guy to wear an ugly "I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND" t-shirt out in public, he's just a nerd like that.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[o-pandora-o]

This is so funny and cute

[ccalxx]

Two bros chilling in the hot tub five feet apart. Cause they're not gay (or are they?).

SPOILER (HSR 3.1 TRAILBLAZE QUEST)

They're both so ridiculous and funny.

[o-pandora-o]

Sorry if I haven't posted anything in a while ;-; in all honesty I've been so drained and whb not giving me any inspos for a while.... I really apologize to those who requested and were still waiting for their fics. Tho a good news I'm slowly recovering (and my laptop miraculously got fixed). I hope I can finish all my WIPs. I'm so sorry ;-;. I had been suffering from muscle pain and some sickness for the past few months...nothing serious, though it's kinda irritating.

[o-pandora-o]

Please take care of yourself and rest, no matter how busy you are! Remember to eat, drink water, sleep, and take breaks too!

HELLOO OMG THANK YOU! I FINALLY FINISHED SOME EXAMS and some certification exams jzhxnsu hoping for the best that I passed! I'll probably continue whb req this holidays, sorry really it took so long 😭 PLS KEEP THE REQUESTS COMING! TYSM!

[o-pandora-o]

Lil silly guy on Levi's bday,,

Good News to everyone! I will begin resuming the fics next week! I apologize for the wait! Many inconveniences happened including my laptop breaking down and so does my body LMAO. Sorry for all those who waited, really. T_T

[o-pandora-o]

WHB 1st Anniversary

A bit late on posting but I took some pics on the fan event online! Thank you so much for making this opportunity possible!

[o-pandora-o]

Please take care of yourself and rest, no matter how busy you are! Remember to eat, drink water, sleep, and take breaks too!

Thank you! Super sorry on the delays, some irl sht going on. Might finish the fics after I graduate tho huhu. For the mean time I'd really like to apologize

[o-pandora-o]

Will resume WHB fic making on the 3rd-4th week of sept. Just needed to handle irl things (and injuries) thank you so much! For the meantime ill be opening 3 more request slots. Thank you.

[o-pandora-o]

Hello. I apologize that there is a certain delay fic requests as I am currently in pain for a week now. I cannot walk properly idk if it's about my sugar or meat intake. Even though I'm in my bed I'm still uncomfy. Anyways, keep safe to every single of you.

I'm slowly getting better so don't worry! Thank you so much again for understanding.

[o-pandora-o]

Hi, WHB Fandom. I was experimenting: incorporating scenarios (case scenarios and dialogues) into headcanons (as you can see in the past few hcs I've done) every 1-2 bullet points in HCs. It took some time for me to make those (given that every request I undergo Writer's block). I just wanted to ask especially who those requested, is it perfectly fine for you? I personally ENJOY doing it. But I realized it made me use too much time, I don't mind it but I'm concerned for what you guys think. Do you enjoy it?

Yes it's fine! I enjoyed reading it, take your time in doing those please.

Yes, it's fine! You can lessen the scenarios if you want

No, it looks stupid

No, I don't enjoy your incorporation of scenarios and headcanons.

Voting ended onAug 18, 2024

An example of what im talking about in a Belphegor x GN shy s/o:

Thank you so much for your answers!

[o-pandora-o]

Votes in!! Thank you so much again! I actually stopped making hcs in fear of the requesters not liking it but it seems the majority does! While there are some that don't want, ill go and make hcs that don't have scenarios (won't be too often). Thank you so much again!

[o-pandora-o]

Hi, WHB Fandom. I was experimenting: incorporating scenarios (case scenarios and dialogues) into headcanons (as you can see in the past few hcs I've done) every 1-2 bullet points in HCs. It took some time for me to make those (given that every request I undergo Writer's block). I just wanted to ask especially who those requested, is it perfectly fine for you? I personally ENJOY doing it. But I realized it made me use too much time, I don't mind it but I'm concerned for what you guys think. Do you enjoy it?

Yes it's fine! I enjoyed reading it, take your time in doing those please.

Yes, it's fine! You can lessen the scenarios if you want

No, it looks stupid

No, I don't enjoy your incorporation of scenarios and headcanons.

Voting ended onAug 18, 2024

An example of what im talking about in a Belphegor x GN shy s/o:

Thank you so much for your answers!