#his magic is missing in that drawing for some reason.

[elvensorceress]

In all the excitement about bi!Buck, (which— yay! Amazing! Very exciting! No notes!) I think there’s a part of this story we’re missing. I haven’t seen anyone talk about it, so have some rambling.

 It wasn’t just Buck who looked at this experienced, older, queer man and wanted to know him. It was also Eddie. 

We have never seen Eddie go so hard, so immediately for anyone. To the point his best friend of years felt like he was being ignored by him. Yes, Buck wanted Tommy’s attention for obvious reasons. But he was also slighted by the perceived lack of attention from Eddie. 

Suddenly, Eddie is spending multiple times a week going out with this man. Going to Vegas with this man. Working out with him, working on his car with him, doing karaoke and trivia night with him? Asking his alleged girlfriend to babysit more than once so that he can go out with Tommy? Obviously, it was from jealous!Buck’s point of view, but seriously. If Buck felt ignored, what is Marisol even thinking? Did Eddie bother to make time for his new girlfriend? What spare time would he even have if they work several 24 hour shifts and he’s also gone out with Tommy at least three times in one week? And is probably planning more?

Not that I think Eddie’s feelings for Tommy are necessarily in the same vein as Buck’s feelings for Tommy. But my gosh, Eddie giggly and kicking his feet and twirling his hair while on the phone with Tommy was so very loud. And actually a pretty neat contrast to being distracted and trying to text Marisol “hey mari it me eddie” to ask her out. Eddie’s sudden infatuation with Tommy was a thousand times more than anything we’ve seen from him for anyone. Considering that what he stated he wanted was the magical chemistry he’d found when he and Shannon got together, like… is that not what he just found with Tommy? 

Again, it doesn’t necessarily mean Eddie has any explicit romantic or sexual attraction toward Tommy. I suppose he could? But the point is more that wow, there is some kind of intense draw pulling Eddie to him even if we interpret it as platonic. 

Buck says at the end of the ep that they met this guy and he was so cool and Buck wanted to get to know him. Which makes sense given that Buck is canonically crushing on him and going to be dating him. But Eddie was actually the one who got there first. Eddie also had a reaction somewhere along those lines of “he’s really cool, I need to know him” to the point where he’s all of a sudden spending most if not all of his free time with him. 

And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this person Eddie wants to spend time with is an experienced, out queer man who is comfortable in his own sexuality and his own masculinity. (He has so much in common with Eddie! They have so many similar interests! They have a magical click together that makes Eddie want to be around him all the time! There’s so much they can do together!) 

Eddie might not have even known it, maybe in the same way Buck also didn’t know it, but Eddie definitely latched onto that, too. Which is very interesting, no? Very— queers finding each other and bonding over shared experiences even before they know that’s what they’re doing. 

It can easily be someone who is likely confused about their own feelings but knows they are having certain feelings just not the names to put to those feelings, and consequently seeking guidance and reassurance that there are other people who are just like them who have these feelings as well. It’s realizing how they can be themselves, that they can be queer in a way that fits who they are instead of what they might conceptualize as queer because of stereotypes and preconceived notions. It’s learning you can be you and also be queer. That there are people like you out there. 

Eddie found something with Tommy that he hasn’t been shown to have found anywhere else. It’s a new and different thing for him, too. And if it were just about excitement over a new friend, why is it so much so quickly all at once? Eddie’s a social person. He’s a friendly, charming, charismatic person. He has friends. But it feels like this is a very different sort of friendship for him. 

And the fact that this is the same man who just gave Buck his bisexual awakening is verrrry inch resting. 

Also regardless of what kind of feelings Eddie and Tommy might have been having for each other, they were so going on dates. Flying someone to Vegas because you have tickets that have been sold out for weeks to something they enjoy? Like damn Eddie. You pulled a sugar daddy. 

Anyway. Eddie is queer, too. Double sexuality awakenings, ready go!

That is all! 💕

#911 #Eddie Diaz #911 on abc #911 abc #911 meta #yes I'm an Eddie girlie(gn) through and through

[lovelyhan]

— promise ring ⟢

no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.

★ FEATURING; chan x reader (ft. joshua x reader)

★ WORD COUNT; 21k words

★ TAGS; fantasy, royalty, childhood friends, mutual pining, love triangle, LOTS of drama, jeonghan being a menace, slow burn, angst, smut

★ NOTES; full disclosure that the plot to porn ratio is probably 80:20 so if you're simply looking for filth, i might not recommend this,,, but if you're down for 20k words of slow burn childhood friends to lovers topped with a juicy love triangle with our best boy chan, then this should be perfect for you <3

this is part of the secret garden, a svthub spring collab and the it's complicated series!

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, lots of making out, unprotected sex, touch starved chan and reader, first time, body worship, dom/sub undertones, lots of loving n endearing language during the act bc they've pined for each other long Enough, corruption kink if you squint but chan doesn't rly act on it

★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv

When you wake up, it’s to a strange feeling that something big is going to happen today.

You open your eyes to radiant sunlight filtering into the room through a crack in the curtains. The songbirds chirp happily by the windowsill as the rest of the town prepares to meet the day head-on. You lie in bed for a few minutes more, wondering what’s causing your chest to stir with misplaced anticipation. None of the annual festivals are drawing near and you’re certain you haven’t forgotten anyone’s birthdays either.

The sensation carries over as you head to the Academy with your father. Being from the family who founded the school several decades ago, he makes it a point to uphold the legacy your ancestors have left behind. That includes being at the school grounds an hour before any of the formal magic classes are scheduled to start, apparently.

Some students arrive much earlier than both of you, practicing spells and incantations in the small quadrangle as a means of preparing for their assessments later in the day. You giggle to yourself when you spot one of the older mages—a water elemental named Seungmin—fumble with his technique a little. 

Whether intentionally or not, his friend, Changbin takes the brunt of it—his robes rendered sopping wet from the water that Seungmin had (accidentally?) blasted him with. Though it doesn’t take much to undo the damage since Changbin is easily one of the best fire elementals in the Academy. With one snap of his fingers, his clothes are instantly dry. 

There are times (like this) when you envy the versatility of fire magic. But your father once told you that the gods grant each person with their respective elements for a reason. Instead of questioning their grace, you must show your gratitude by mastering what you've been blessed with instead. 

Yours comes in the form of nurturing all the plants and flora you set your eyes on. It’s for this reason that you still bother to come to the Academy even if you’ve already completed its scholastic program over three years ago. 

Despite your father constantly insisting for you to find a job that suits your talents in the royal capital, you prefer to impart your magical knowledge to the other students in your hometown instead. 

In fact, you don’t miss the wistful look in his eyes as you part ways for the day—him to the headmaster's office and you to the greenhouse at the edge of campus.

As you direct yourself to your destination, that feeling from earlier is yet to subside. Though much more muted now that you’re surrounded by fellow mages both students and faculty alike, it still remains. Quiet yet foreboding, as if telling you not to let your guard down just yet.

So lost in your own thoughts, you startle at the sound of someone calling your name in the distance. 

“Thank goodness you’re here!” One of the junior mages, Chaewon groans before bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “He’s done it again!” 

A worried smile stretches across your lips. Life in your hometown is but a cycle of doing the same things over and over everyday. You don’t particularly mind the monotone of your routine—you’re at peace with it, honestly—but if Lee Jung Chan keeps accidentally burning someone’s precious plants, you’re going to have to make a few changes.

Chaewon leads you to the crime scene swiftly, explaining how your best friend set fire to the monsteras she personally grew from little seedlings with an irritated pout. While you’re completely sympathetic to Chaewon's plight—being her mentor and all—you can’t help the soft laugh that bubbles in your chest at the story.

“Why are you laughing?” she whines. “You’re not gonna let him get away with it just ‘cause you’ve been friends since you were babies, right? I worked so hard to enchant those plants with exotic flowers!” 

The two of you arrive before you can issue an apology on Chan’s behalf. Not that your best friend wouldn’t have already expressed his remorse directly to Chaewon the moment the monsteras caught his flames. 

You can easily spot the repentance in his posture as Chan stands awkwardly outside the greenhouse. From the looks of it, he’s currently being lectured by a school instructor who’s also named Chan, though most of the students and staff call him Chris for easier identification. 

You’re certain that Chris has it all under control. Though you’re not sure how, since he’s a non-elemental mage. You can’t exactly see him putting out a fire with musical magic no matter how good he is, but you’re grateful for his intervention still. 

“I know you only wanted to help out, but Chaewon isn’t the headmaster’s daughter. She’s yet to learn how to properly foolproof her handiwork against clumsy fire elementals.” Chris sighs deeply, arms crossed with a serious look before his eyes catch yours from the distance. “Speak of the devil…”

One would expect Chan to be mortified at the sight of you. After all, he did just inadvertently fuck up Chaewon’s project for her elemental assessment this month. As her mentor, you have all the right to rain hell on earth in the name of your precious student, but the thing about you is that you can never get mad at Lee Jung Chan—no matter how badly he messes up sometimes.

“Hi,” he squeaks with a small wave. “I swear I was just watering Chaewon’s plants ‘cause they were looking kind of…dry.  I do it for you all the time right? But then a cat snuck inside the greenhouse and knocked over a bunch of pots from the high shelves. It scared the living daylights out of me and—”

“Chan, have you at least apologized to her?” you sigh, patting your student’s head while she shoots Chan a hard glare from where she’s hiding behind you. 

“O-Of course!” he stammers, hands flying everywhere in an attempt to express his damage control better. “I even asked Chris where I can get seeds so I can replace them for her! You know I never leave any debts unpaid.”

It’s difficult to keep your mask of professionalism in place when he’s being so unintentionally adorable. Right now, you’re one of the Academy’s respected alumni as well as an instructor that many students look up to. You wouldn’t make the mistake of fawning over your best friend while he explains his not-so-innocence, but that doesn’t mean it makes keeping up appearances any easier for you .

“I told him that BamBam sells everything under the sun at his shop in the next town over,” Chris informs you with a tight-lipped smile. “Though Chan might have to be careful when talking to that guy. He’s a bit…”

“Eccentric?” you supply.

“Exactly.”

“Can he do that now?” Chaewon huffs impatiently. “I was meaning to start another experiment after I made sure this one didn’t fall through, but I guess I’m back to square one.” 

You flash your student a placating stare, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “Hey, your next assessment isn’t until the end of the month, right? You don’t have to rush. Besides, I’ve been thinking about teaching you how to brew your own instant growth potion.”

The enticing promise of a new technique visibly piques Chaewon’s interest. She gasps, taking your hands in hers before letting out a loud shriek. “Really?! You’re really going to teach me that? You know there are no take-backs once you say it, right?”

“Yes, I know.” You chuckle. “Now go head off to class. You have Chris here for first period, right?”

Your student groans. “Yeah… I still don’t know why I took musical theory as an elective.”

“You talk like I’m the worst instructor among the school faculty,” Chris huffs before walking back to the path leading to the main building. “Come on, Chaewon. You’ll be late.”

“How can I be late if I’m with you, though?”

“If you don’t stop being smart with me, I’ll tell BamBam to switch your monstera seeds with venus flytraps.” 

As the two of them bicker all the way to the entrance, you’re left alone with your troublemaking best friend. Chan still has his shoulders set as if the guilt from his earlier actions is still fresh in his heart. You sigh, gesturing for him to follow you into the greenhouse before stepping inside the enclosure.

Out of all the projects you’ve dedicated to mastering your elemental magic, the Academy’s greenhouse is by far your most renowned feat. It started as a pipe dream during your first year of attendance and in your final year, you managed to convince the board of elder mages to build the greenhouse with the help of your father.

Of course, since he’s a royal mage—the town’s representative in the courts of the royal capital—you won’t deny that he might’ve pulled a few strings here and there to make your dreams a reality. 

(If you can recall correctly, you once heard Chaewon’s friend, Yunjin jokingly whisper something about nepotism during one of the on-field classes you held.)

But whatever the means, the greenhouse proved to be an effective medium for magic of varying affinities. Both elemental and non-elemental mages often stop by to test their ideas about innovative applications of their powers. 

Some water mages have tested if plants can purify contaminated samples from the upstream river. A spatial mage once tried to clone a bonsai tree by multiplying their cells in an exact mirror image. 

And your best friend often tests the limits of what he can and can’t do around all the flora—given his magical constitution.

“So I’m guessing you already forgive me?” Chan asks with a sheepish smile on his face. “I promise I’ll just help out somewhere else when you’re not around. Baekho’s been inviting me to the magical combat wing a lot these days, but I need to think about it first ‘cause…you know.”

You do know. And out of every single person who knows Lee Jung Chan, you like to think that you understand his predicament better than anyone else.

Both of you started studying at the Academy at the same time, but you’re the only one who got to graduate after senior year. This made Chan ineligible for any sort of teaching position, since official employment required being an alumnus of any recognized magic school in the realm. The most he can be offered is a spot as a teaching aide and none else.

You’re well aware that because of that smudge on his track record, coupled with his clumsy tendencies, people often assume that Chan is a failure of a mage. A fire elemental who has no idea how to wield his own flames.

But what they don’t know is that in terms of raw power alone, even your father agrees that Chan surpasses every single student that’s ever had the pleasure to graduate from this school. The reason he can’t control his own flames is because of how potent they are. How powerful and all-consuming they can be if kept unchecked.

Your father once offered to bring him to one of his friends in the southern cities—someone who can help Chan tame his powers in ways he failed to guide him to. But your best friend declined, insisting that someone who can’t control their own flames doesn’t deserve the time and hospitality of anyone outside your hometown.

To this day, you still haven’t forgotten the resignation in his voice as he said the words. Like he’s so certain that all he deserves is to be some aberration kept in the shadows. You’ve always hated it whenever he sells himself short, but it’s not as if you can do anything about it if he’s so complacent with where he is now.

“Hey? You’re spacing out on me all of a sudden.”

You blink, nonplussed by Chan’s voice despite the fact that you’ve been standing with him inside the greenhouse for over five minutes. He’s posed a respectable distance away from any of the potted plants and flowers in the vicinity—standing so still, you almost find it funny.

“What made you drop by so early in the morning anyways?” you ask in an attempt at small talk. Your first class of the day doesn’t start until an hour, so you can afford to squander some time. “Don’t you usually get out of bed at noon?” 

“Hey, I get out of bed at eleven!” He insists as if that’s any better. “But anyways, the reason I showed up so early is because someone made a wrong delivery to my house. Ma was so surprised to see a huge crate at our doorstep, but she was even more surprised to see it was addressed to you.”

…A delivery? For you?

“What do you mean?” you wonder, head craned with confusion. “What was inside? Did it say who it was from?”

Chan shakes his head before pointing at the far end of the greenhouse. There, you see the massive wooden crate he must be talking about. “A bunch of flowers in a plant box with no return address. Maybe it’s one of those scholars from the capital who want you to study them again? You did work on a research project about hydrangeas last month right?” 

Strange flower delivery aside, you gape at him—heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. “You remember that?” 

“Of course I do,” he says easily. “Now are you going to check out the crate so you can tell me what those flowers are or are we gonna stand in the middle of all these highly flammable plants all day?”

You don’t even bother asking how Chan managed to transfer such a huge thing from his house to the greenhouse. He must’ve asked help from Mingyu, another instructor’s aide who does a lot of heavy lifting around the school. Or maybe he even roped Baekho into this whole thing.

Either way, as soon as you open the mystery package, it’s as Chan described it: a plant box brimming with an assortment of flowers arranged in a way only professionals can put together. All the vibrant blooms are expertly placed so that one wouldn’t outshine the other and whoever sent this, they’ve certainly earned your approval. 

“So which is which?” Chan wonders as he peeps inside the crate again.

“Well,” you start, hands tracing each flower delicately. “This one is called a primrose, the dark pink ones are chrysanthemums, while the dantier flowers are carnations.”

As you explain how different they are from the other, it’s hard to miss how Chan struggles to keep himself from reaching into the crate to touch them. You feel kind of bad, but you know he’s only holding himself back because he doesn’t want to unintentionally start another fire. 

“What do they mean? In the language of flowers?” he wonders. “You always go on and on about how each one has its own special meaning. What about these guys?”

You ponder on it for a moment, actively recalling what you’ve been taught. “Hm. Primroses usually represent youth and optimism. Chrysanthemums are for friendship, and carnations…”

When its meaning flits to the forefront of your mind, your eyes widen as an abrupt realization hits you in the next moment. Your gaze drifts back to the flowers as Chan patiently waits for you to continue, and that’s when you notice something strange inside. 

Tucked in the middle of the assortment of lush flowers is a small envelope that wasn’t there before. The flap is enclosed with a familiar wax seal: the royal family’s crest. 

You’ve seen your father open enough letters from them to recognize the sigil pressed into the bright red wax, but you’ve never once received one for yourself. 

“Carnations signify fascination. Love,” you continue, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But I’m sure whoever sent these doesn’t know all that. They could’ve just picked these out because they’re pretty to look at together.”

Chan looks unconvinced. “Why don’t you open the envelope? I’m just guessing here, but maybe it was made to respond to your magic specifically? It would explain why it didn’t appear when I first checked the flowers out.”

For all his foolishness, he might actually be on to something this time.

But instead of brimming curiosity, that bothersome sensation from earlier surfaces again. It cloys in your chest, stirring your heart with trepidation before sinking like a stone in the pit of your stomach. 

Your hands go clammy as you inspect the envelope as if it’s hiding a beast so it could swallow you whole. The royal family hasn’t given you any reason to even be remotely wary of them, but your reluctance refuses to waver.

In the end, you choose to brush it off, picking at the seal until it detaches from the envelope. When you take out what’s inside, the familiar scent of rich red roses laces the fine parchment. 

It’s fairly easy to figure out who the sender is after that.

The greenhouse falls silent as you read through the letter’s contents. You’re acutely aware of Chan’s equally engrossed stare, but with each passing second, you grow more and more cognizant of the fact that this is definitely the reason why you awoke so keyed up first thing in the morning.

“Prince Joshua, huh?” He whispers somewhat disbelievingly before turning to you with curious eyes. “I figured you were friends since your father brings you along to the royal balls so often. Didn’t think he was this into you though.”

You didn’t either. You can hardly call the prince who’s second in line to the throne your friend, much more, a romantic prospect. Sure, Joshua is always hospitable whenever he catches you nursing a drink in the ballroom before asking for a dance, but you never would’ve imagined he harbored those kinds of feelings for you. 

What’s more is, though you came from a highly regarded lineage of mages, there isn’t a drop of royal blood in your veins. But here he is, asking you to be his fiancée all while giving you the prettiest flowers you’ve ever received.

“Do you think it could be a mistake?” you mumble, reading over the letter once more to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

Chan rolls his eyes. “Look, that’s clearly your name he mentioned at the top. And don’t you think that someone as important as Prince Joshua will be more careful about sending out gestures of grandeur? He can’t just give any beautiful girl flowers, you know.”

His words shouldn’t faze you as much as they do. It’s always been easy for Chan to compliment people when the chance arises and he’s called you beautiful dozens of times before. Sometimes teasingly, more often genuinely. 

It’s so strange. The most sought-after man in the kingdom just asked for your hand in marriage, but here you are—heart doing somersaults all because of your best friend’s easy admission.

Oh, heavens, you muse to yourself as Chan goes off on a tangent about how you’re mandated to get him front row seats to the wedding. 

This is going to be difficult.

“That’s good news!”

When you dragged Chan to your father’s office once all your classes for the day were finished, you expected him to at least mull over Joshua’s abrupt proposal a little longer. It’s not that he was strict about the men you let in your life, but he looks much too elated for someone whose daughter is on the brink of being married off to someone else.

Well. When that ‘someone else’ is Prince Joshua, you think the proposal holds more weight than it otherwise would with any other commoner.

“But I don’t understand,” you tell him, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Why does Prince Joshua want to marry me all of a sudden? He hasn’t expressed any sort of romantic interest in me before, so why…?”

Your father chuckles from behind his desk, one finger guiding the drink from his glass with magic so he can spin it around in circles. Water elementals can be so strange at times. 

“If I told you the prince has felt the way he claims in his letter for a good few years now, would it help you consider the proposal better?” he asks before putting the stream of wine he’s playing with back to its proper place. 

“Wait a moment,” Chan pipes up from his seat. “Are you saying he’s been in love with her for a long time now?” 

“Well, I’m not sure of the specifics, but the prince informed me of his affections a few months ago to seek my approval,” your father explains before leaning back into his seat to cast you a fond stare. “But I told him that regardless of what I think about the whole ordeal, the final decision isn’t up to me at all.” 

The weight of their stares suddenly falls on your form.

You swallow thickly, having known all this time that your father wouldn’t possibly push you to go through with the proposal despite how happy it made him. It’s not that you don’t think Joshua is suitable to be your husband, but…

“Isn’t he taking things a bit too fast?” you ask dryly. “He could at least court me first—”

“My sweet girl, you know the way things work at the castle are much different from how they are in this small town of ours,” your father sighs. “You’ve heard about the royal assimilation period, yes?”

You have. It’s a sort of probationary period imposed on non-royals who wish to marry into the family. You know of a few acquaintances who had to spend a full year in the castles of other kingdoms without setting foot outside the premises during its entirety. At the time, you found the idea of isolation dreadful and that you can’t ever see yourself being in their place.

Now here you are, at the brink of being tied down to a prince you barely even know.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend a chunk of your day thinking about the pros and cons of marrying into the royal family. Becoming princess consort means you’ll be given a voice in the political court of the castle. Though your father does just fine in representing your hometown as its royal mage, being part of the regency itself grants you more authority over the decisions being made for the kingdom’s sake.

The thought of being able to improve the quality of life in your hometown as well as bringing more adequate funds for the Academy makes the offer all sorts of tempting. This is the place that made you who you are today, and you’d want nothing more than to give back however you can. 

Plus, the thought of being married to Prince Joshua isn’t as daunting as it was when you found his letter hidden between the flowers he’d given. Since you had the whole work day to think about it, you managed to get over the initial dread and actually consider how having him as a partner would be.

His reputation as the kingdom’s most esteemed gentleman precedes him even in other places. It was once a popular opinion that Joshua would marry and settle down much sooner than his older brother, Jeonghan simply because of how adored he is among the people. Yet he’s already halfway through his twenties without any prospective partners.

Until now.

“I think you should accept his proposal.”

It shocks you that Chan is the one who tells you that. You stare at him with glaring disbelief while your father merely raises an eyebrow with mild interest before his lips break into a grin. “See? Even Chan over here agrees. I know it’s a bit much to suddenly become the fiancée of someone so important, but you’ll get to know each other better during the assimilation period anyways.”

Chan nods in agreement. “Besides, we can still visit you every now and again, right?”

The smile on your father’s face falls. “Oh, about that… Prospective royals aren’t allowed to entertain visitors that aren’t immediate family until the assimilation period concludes. But you can send letters if you end up missing each other too much.”

Your father says the words in such a light-hearted manner, you’re sure he didn’t say them in jest. He knows how close you and Chan have been since childhood; knows how important he is to you. If you accept Joshua’s proposal and whisk yourself off to the castle, it would be the longest you’ve gone without seeing your best friend in your entire life.

With Chan added to the equation, you realize that it’s not your level of familiarity with Joshua that makes you so reluctant to go through with it, nor is it the idea of being isolated from the outside for an entire year. 

It’s the fact that you won’t be able to meet Chan for its entirety.

“Well, it’s not like it’s something you have to decide on right away,” your father interjects when he senses that the atmosphere has dipped. “I’ll keep in touch with the prince about the whole thing, but I’m sure he’d like you to take your time anyways. This is a lifelong commitment we’re talking about after all.”

This is ridiculous. Well, not as ridiculous when you remember you’re now of marriageable age and the prince has been harboring feelings for you for longer than you thought. 

Still… 

When you look at Chan, you half-expect him to at least comment on your father’s words, but he merely grins as if he’s completely on board with the idea.

Yet you can’t help but notice how that smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You end up accepting Joshua’s proposal a week later.

From what you could tell when he responded to your letter, the prince was ecstatic. He went into great detail about how he promises to make the entire assimilation process comfortable for you and that he can’t wait to have you at the castle. What makes the entire exchange all the more endearing is the fact that he’s genuinely apologetic about the abruptness of his proposal and that he honestly didn’t expect for you to agree.

You didn’t either.

If Joshua was ecstatic, your father was over the moon. When you informed him that you’re exchanging correspondences with the prince about the entire arrangement, he was quick to put together a farewell party when the final date of your assimilation period has been set in stone. 

In other words, the past month was extremely busy for you. It consisted of several back and forth trips to the royal capital so you and Joshua could get all the paperwork involved done together. He’s just as sweet and accommodating as you remember—making the whole process less intimidating than it’s supposed to be. The more time you spend with the prince and soon-to-be-fiance, the less nervous you are for what’s to come.

The anxiety finally wears off by the time your farewell party comes around. Your father made sure to invite close friends and family as well as a few of his students and yours. Chaewon was in tears at the news that another mentor is going to be assigned for her because of the circumstances, but you promised to keep in touch when you come back.

Although once you’ve had your final conversations with most of your guests, you start to feel how wary you are from interacting with so many people at once. Eyes scanning through the small venue your father rented for the occasion, you attempt to look for a single person—a pout tugging at your lips when you can’t find him amidst the crowd.

No one knows Lee Jung Chan better than you do, so you’re right on the money when you venture out to the nearby river—immediately spotting him sitting alone by the banks.

You can only guess how many stones he’s already skipped across the stream, but Chan doesn’t even flinch as you settle down beside him, pulling your legs to your chest so you can rest your chin on your knees.

“You haven’t come here in a while,” you murmur quietly. “Something on your mind?”

“Mmm.” His eyes are pulled straight forward as if still lost in thought. You sigh before opting to stew in the sound of the flowing river—gazing at the slowly setting sun in the far horizon.

It hits you at that moment just how much you’ll miss him. Quiet afternoons with your best friend have become few and far in between ever since you started teaching at the Academy. Now that you’re Joshua’s fiancée, you don’t even know if you’ll ever get to watch sunsets with him like this again. The thought fills you with that same sinking feeling that you only learned to overlook recently and it must show on your face because Chan is quick to turn to you with a curious look on his face.

“You nervous?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Then why do you look so…”

“So?”

“I don’t know…that.”

“You have to be specific, Chan.”

He huffs, taking another stone from a pile he collected at his side before skipping it across the water. “Well, you look like the way you did before your first magical assessment. Remember when the headmaster called me to sleep over because you were practically shaking with anxiety? Even if you’re literally from the best sorcerer family in the city?”

“Hey! Just because my father is good at everything doesn’t mean I am too!”

“But you don’t have to be good at everything.” Chan smiles and you’re unprepared for how your heart lurches at how breathtaking he looks. “You just have to be yourself.”

A pause hovers in the midst of the conversation and you can feel the heat starting to creep up your cheeks. If your best friend notices, he doesn’t let you know.

“I remember that you aced that assessment. Scored highest in our entire year too,” he recalls with a hint of fondness. “I think you’ll do just fine in that assimilation period. Wait, no. I know you will.”

You’ve always admired how easy it is for Chan to uplift others, despite the harsh words some people have used to put him down countless times. It’s like he soaks up the negativity in his life and lets it all out in a more productive manner. 

The steady flowing stream rings in your ears as the silence sets yet again, heart threatening to beat out of your ribcage as you drink in the sight of your best friend. Rays of muted sunlight filter through the trees onto his face and it makes the kind grin on his face glow even brighter.

Chan lets out a choked up sound when you immediately pull him in for a hug. He’s speechless for a couple of seconds—wondering what on earth got into you. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh and returns your embrace with twice as much affection. 

“Sounds to me like you’re perfectly okay with marrying off your best friend to some guy,” you murmur jokingly, breathing in his scent like it’s your last. Burnt sugar and just a hint of musk. 

He laughs and the sound vibrates across your skin. “Prince Joshua is not some guy. And why wouldn’t I be happy that you’ll be married to such a great person? He can give you everything, you know? Even if I used to give all the dudes who got close to you back then a lot of shit, I know the prince will make you happy.”

Happy…

That’s something you haven’t really considered ever since you and Joshua started making the preparations for your assimilation. He’s a good prince who values his people over his own interests and he’s also a gentleman that always considers your input in every step. 

But not once did it ever occur to you that marrying him would equate to your own happiness.

The thought fills you with shame—especially knowing how much Joshua has done for you for the past month. You tell yourself that maybe it’s because you still don’t know him that well; that you just need a little more time before you can think of him as a person who can make you genuinely happy and not just someone who you have to marry for the sake of your town.

If there is someone who makes you feel that way without breaking a sweat, however…

Chan shoots you a puzzled look when you break away, rising back to your feet all while tugging at his arm. Still, he lets you pull him up—a determined look settling across your features.

“Follow me.”

During weekends, the Academy only grants entry to both students and faculty until mid-noon. But luckily for you, you’ve spent years sneaking into the greenhouse when you were still carefully cultivating all the plants you have on display.

Chan voices out his concern when you bring him inside, muttering something about trespassing on school territory but he tails you from behind anyway. 

The plant box full of dazzling flowers he brought a month ago isn’t here anymore—having been planted safely in the garden of your house. In its place is a brand new shipment of flowers you ordered from BamBam about two weeks ago.

Chan hasn’t seen them yet since he’s made it a point to avoid the greenhouse while Chaewon is in the middle of her experiments. But the curiosity in his eyes shines when you show them to him.

“These are called forget-me-nots,” you say, a warm smile tugging at your lips. “They aren’t that rare, but…they’ve always been my favorite. The first time I saw them was in a forest near the southern cities, where Father taught me the names of all kinds of trees and flowers.”

Chan nods with an expression that tells you he doesn’t quite get it, but is happy for you nonetheless. You stifle a laugh and his face immediately reddens as he clears his throat. “Um, why’d you ask BamBam for these though? They look kind of…simple compared to everything else you already have here.”

“It’s because they’re so simple that they stood out to me, silly,” you chuckle. “That forest was teeming with the most exotic plant life I’ve seen. Flowers of all shapes and colors, trees that grew up to the clouds… Even in such an abundant forest, simple flowers like these grew unassumingly by the side—still thriving despite being considered inferior.”

When you stare at Chan, you realize how much these flowers remind you of him. And it’s for that reason that you’re about to ask him a huge favor.

“Can you take care of them for me while I’m gone?” you whisper—voice carrying a hopeful tone. “I know it’s a tall request but—”

“Are you kidding? Nothing’s ever a tall request from you.” He huffs. “Of course I’ll do it.”

Your mouth hangs slightly agape—not expecting Chan to agree to it so easily. It takes you a moment to pick up your train of thought, but when you do, you break into an even wider grin. 

“Really? Notorious plant-killer Lee Jung Chan is agreeing to take care of a bunch of flowers for an entire year?” you tease. 

“Hey, you’re the one who asked, so why are you suddenly questioning my credibility?” The pout on his face just makes you want to tease him even more. “I’m probably going to end up burning a few of them by accident, but I won’t be seeing you for a long time. This is the least I can do while I wait for you to come back, right?”

You are going to miss him so much, it makes your heart hurt.

Unlike earlier, Chan immediately reciprocates the hug you pull him into. You bury your face in the crook of your neck, ingraining the scent of him in your mind so that you’ll never forget your best friend even if you tried.

“I’ll come back for them in the spring,” you whisper. 

Chan hums, his thumb tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades. “Is that a promise?”

It feels like forever before you break away from him, but when you do, the desolate feeling you got from the thought of being apart from him goes up in smoke. Chan raises an eyebrow when you reach into the plant box to pluck two forget-me-nots from the soil—enchanting the blooms with your magic so the stems could morph into rings.

One for you and one for Chan.

“It’s a promise.”

“Miss, you’ve got a letter again.”

You’re in the middle of reading up on a compilation of the kingdom’s annual state of affairs when your handmaiden, Sakura, finds you in the castle gardens. She gathers her skirts with one hand while the other carries an unassuming envelope. It’s routine at this point.

“Thank you, Kkura,” you murmur before flashing her a warm smile. “Has Prince Joshua returned yet?”

She shakes her head. “The peace talks between the four kingdoms are taking much longer than anticipated. Although he and Prince Jeonghan should be back by tomorrow, if what the socialites are gossiping about in the main plaza are true.”

You stifle a soft laugh. “I bet Prince Jeonghan’s stirring up trouble in a foreign court as we speak.”

“You can say that again,” Sakura agrees with a withering sigh. “One of the reasons the king won’t easily let Prince Jeonghan take his place is because of his constant deviance. I’d bet my salary that he was just waiting for Prince Joshua to take up a wife before handing him the crown instead.”

“Kkura, the others might hear,” you scold, but there’s a chuckle wedged between the words. “Well, if a miracle happens and they arrive home earlier than expected, you know where to find me.”

“You’re very diligent about reading, aren’t you, miss?” She comments, impressed. “I know a couple of princess consorts in the making, but you’re probably the only one who cares to read about the technicalities of running a kingdom. Most of them are only in it for the chance to marry into a royal family.” 

“Those waiting for me back home wouldn’t be very proud if I only leeched off my engagement with Prince Joshua,” you say a-matter-of-factly.

“You mean your father?”

There’s a pause in the conversation—one long enough for you to suddenly be cognizant of several things at once. The water running from a nearby fountain. Birds chirping before migrating into their nests for the night. In the silence, you let your eyes wander to the rings in your fingers.

A diamond engagement ring that probably costs more than what you’ve earned in your entire life on your ring finger and a bright blue forget-me-not wrapped around your pinky.

Right. Sakura doesn’t know about… 

“Yes,” you tell her, but there’s hesitation in your voice that you hope she won’t hear. “He’s been very thorough about giving me advice on how to make the best decisions for a lot of people.”

“As expected of a royal mage,” she sighs, “Oh well, I’ll leave you be, miss. If your father is as thorough as you say he is, then I can only imagine what he’s written in that new letter.”

Well, she’s not exactly wrong.

After exchanging farewells, Sakura bows her head with a practiced curtsy—saying something about supper being ready in an hour or two before leaving you to your own devices. When you find yourself all alone once more, you rip open the envelope with a hint of excitement buzzing on your fingertips. 

It’s been about three months since you’ve left your hometown and started your assimilation period. During those three months, you were constantly fed with a multitude of information that comes with being part of the regency. From etiquette classes to foreign relations—your teachers all expected you to take everything they told you to heart. 

While the process sounds much too tedious, especially for someone who’s quite literally stuck here for another nine months, Joshua always took it upon himself to make sure you wouldn’t feel too bored with all the stringent formalities. 

He’s wonderful company—never running out of stories to tell. From childhood embarrassments at the hands of his older brother to his own share of mischief that’s always overshadowed by the gravity of Jeonghan’s, Joshua kept you constantly entertained.

Your fiancé even suggested that the two of you sneak out into the city sometime just so he could show you that pub near the outskirts that he enjoys frequenting while undercover as an ordinary citizen. Of course, the offer sounded tempting at first, but you rightfully declined out of respect for both the royal family and the tradition that has kept the kingdom going for so long.

However, Joshua isn’t always here to keep you company. Being one of the most important figures in the kingdom, he and Jeonghan are regularly called in and out of the castle to attend to some business that their parents are too busy to sneak into their own schedules. 

It’s during your fiancé’s bouts of absence that you look forward to your next form of entertainment—all the letters sent from home.

Just as you’ve told Sakura, your father accommodates all your questions about ruling over one’s constituents as much as he can—telling you to pay attention to the needs of the people above all else.

But aside from the detailed notes he leaves you with, there’s always another letter wedged inside the envelopes he sends to the castle every fortnight.

Hey.

How are you? Has the prince been treating you well, still? Sorry I couldn’t write to you last time. Training’s been hell and Jongkook hasn’t let me breathe for the past week. When the headmaster told me that becoming that guy’s apprentice wasn’t going to be easy, I didn’t think he was that serious. It’s a miracle I haven’t gotten third degree burns from all this temperature training.

Things are a little a lot different in the southern cities compared to home. Everyone is as mean as they could be. Jongkook called it the survival of the fittest and I kind of get where he’s coming from. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see someone smiling every now and again, right? It’s a good thing I’m allowed to go home every week, or else my sanity would’ve disappeared before we could even see each other again.

About your flowers: have I told you that Chaewon’s helping me maintain them whenever I’m away? We’ve buried the hatchet and agreed to look after your forget-me-nots together! But she kind of emphasized that she’s doing this for you and not because she’s completely forgiven me for the monstera incident. But hey, progress is progress, right?

I checked them out personally when I got home today. They seemed more vibrant than usual. Almost like they’re happy to know I’m back. Seeing them made me think how I’d probably feel when your assimilation period is over. Ah, but I’m running out of parchment to write on. Sorry about that. There isn’t much going on with me anyways. 

Tell me about your classes when you write back, yeah? You also mentioned a pub that Prince Joshua wanted to sneak you into last time. Did you go through with it? Did you have fun? I can’t wait to hear from you so the story better be exciting!

P.S. If the prince himself encourages you to sneak out of the castle, would you consider doing that so we can wander around the main plaza sometime?

P.P.S. That was a joke, by the way. Don’t have the royal guard arrest me. 

P.P.P.S. But if you’re up for it, I wouldn’t say no.

Chan writes his letters the same way he talks in real life. You can almost hear his voice inside your head as you go through every word. You’re glad that he still has enthusiasm to spare over receiving tutelage from someone as important as Kim Jongkook, but even you can tell that his training is no walk in the park. 

There were tears in your eyes when he first broke the news. You thought he’d spend his entire life without getting the proper guidance he needs to hone his powers. But a month after your departure, Chan quickly kept you up to speed about his newfound mentor with a promise that he’ll be the best fire elemental in your hometown by the time you got back.

But with how he bemoans the rigorous training in his letters, you ponder if he sometimes gets hit with the thought of quitting halfway. While his excruciating routines are a far cry from the year’s worth of assimilation classes you’re required to attend, you like to think that you and Chan have a similar threshold for the things you’ll willingly bear without complaints. 

Though you’ve already accustomed yourself with your life at the castle, it’s a no-brainer to say you’d choose to leave for home in a heartbeat if given the chance. But your conscience won’t let you entertain the idea for too long, especially knowing how much you owe it to your hometown to persevere until the end.

That’s why even if you’d want nothing more than to see your best friend, you decidedly draw a fine line between your responsibilities and your heart’s desires. You want so badly to meet Chan again even if that means sneaking past the royal guards, but you’ve never really been one to bend and break the rules for selfish reasons like that. 

Instead, you tuck your best friend’s letter away in the envelope beside your father’s. Nothing but the sound of the water spilling from the fountain rings in your ears. 

As you stare at the pretty blue flower tied at the base of your pinky, you wonder for the hundredth time if you’ve made the right decision at all.

Prince Joshua is easy to love.

By your sixth month in the castle, you can genuinely say that you’ve at least developed a kind of attachment to the prince that borders on romantic. He’s handsome, thoughtful, kind, and many other traits that would only quantify him as a perfect husband. 

Jeonghan regularly catches your gaze lingering several seconds too long on your fiancé every suppertime and it’s no surprise that the eldest prince would tease you to the ends of the earth for it. Saying something along the lines of if you’re already making moony eyes at him now, what more when you finally tie the knot?

It’s something that always flusters you no matter how many times Jeonghan brings it up. But it’s not because you’re embarrassed about what you feel for Joshua. It mostly stems from the fact that you don’t know what to feel for him.

Despite having lived under the same roof for six months, you’re still unsure of where your heart stands when it comes to Joshua. It’s a standstill of emotions that frustrates you to no end. You know nothing will be lost if you just surrender to your budding feelings, but it’s like there’s something always holding you back. 

When the king hosts an overdue gala in the castle, you finally realize what it is.

It’s been more than half a year since they last held one within the premises out of respect for your ongoing assimilation. But now that you’ve passed the six-month mark, the royal court deemed it appropriate to give you more exposure to social functions such as this.

You’re understandably nervous for your first public appearance as Prince Joshua’s fiancée. Sakura has told you about how ruthless the kingdom's nobles could be when it comes to unearthing other people’s business. But your handmaiden assured you there’s nothing to worry about since you’ve done flawlessly with your classes since day one.

So there you are in front of the ballroom, arm linked with Joshua’s as the queen introduces you to every single noble in attendance. You wonder if the prince can tell just how nervous you are but you can at least hope that your smile can convince a hundred other strangers otherwise.

“Hey,” he whispers—eyes still riveted towards the crowd.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be so uptight.”

You try your best not to make a face. “Easy for you to say, Mister I’ve-been-attending-galas-since-I-was-in-the-womb.”

Joshua chuckles softly. “But you’ve been attending these frequently, too. That’s how we met, remember?” 

“Yeah, but I’ve never been the center of attention!”

“Well…” He pauses before shifting his gaze towards the crowd—his mother’s sweet voice echoing throughout the ballroom as she tells everyone how excited she is to welcome you to the family soon. “If it helps, there’s a certain someone in the crowd that’s definitely rooting for you.”

Your confusion visibly shows on your face before you follow his line of sight. You knew your father would be in attendance as is required of all royal mages, but it’s not him that you spot in the crowd.

It’s Chan.

He’s a lot different than you remember—looking much too dapper to pass as the boy you knew as your best friend. He’s donned in expensive-looking garbs, the maroon silk of his tunic hanging loosely off his frame. His hair is slicked back and styled in a way that would make anyone think he was from one of the noble houses. Even the manner he’s holding a glass of champagne looks way too sophisticated for someone you frequently teased for his lack of etiquette and—

There’s a woman hanging off his arm. A woman you don’t know, but looks just as breathtaking as any maiden inside this damn ballroom.

Who is she? Chan has never mentioned any new friends in his letters. Hell, he didn’t even tell you he was going to be here tonight. Instead of feeling at peace with the fact your best friend is finally in front of you like Joshua assumed, all it does is stir a plethora of unpleasant feelings in the pit of your stomach.

“Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way,” the queen says with a smile—snapping you out of your trance, “how about we let our stars of the night lead the first dance? I know the lot of you have missed our parties. On behalf of the royal family and your future king and queen, we hope you’ll enjoy this night of music and liquor. Have a good evening, everyone.”

Forcing yourself not to think about how the queen just referred to you and Joshua as the kingdom’s future king and queen, you let your fiancé lead you to the dancefloor. Joshua is careful as ever as he helps you down the polished marble steps—that handsome smile never leaving his face. You feel like your heart would’ve fluttered as the two of you exchange the opening bows, but your heartbeat is all over the place knowing Chan is here watching everything unfold.

“You remember what we practiced, right?” Joshua murmurs as the orchestra starts the song. 

“U-Uh, yeah,” you stammer—hoping your hands aren’t sweating through your silk gloves. “I won’t step on your toes anymore. Promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

His smooth-talking is not doing you any favors, but you try to dance the same way you practiced with for weeks. The thing about Joshua is that he always makes things easier for you—be it your engagement or some opening dance his parents requested for you to do. He’s so unbelievably accommodating that your initial nervousness easily falls away as the music continues to fill the ballroom.

You only notice that the other guests have already paired up with their own partners on the dancefloor when Joshua twirls you around and hands you over to a noble gentleman you find vaguely familiar. He grins at you when he receives his next dance partner, mouthing “You can do it,” before he spins her away. 

This is the part that you barely rehearsed for. Joshua simply told you to have fun and the rest will come easily. His unhelpful advice threw you off a little, since you were so accustomed to doing things by the book—to abiding by the rules that have been set. 

Your current partner—Hyunjin, as he introduced himself—seems to pick up on your nervousness.

“You’re the kid of one of the royal mages, right?” he asks. “I’m the same. You’ve done this partner exchange thing before, haven’t you? I’ve seen you around a few times in the past.” 

You laugh dryly. “Yeah, but I’m just really nervous today.”

Hyunjin laughs. “Understandable. Don’t think about it too much and just let the music guide you through it.”

Well that’s easier said than done. The noblemen in the kingdom must have some sort of dance class where they’re taught to just take it easy because that’s definitely something you can picture Joshua saying to you as well. 

But as the orchestra continues to play song after song, you find your initial inhibitions ebbing away with each partner that passes. Hyunjin is right—you have done this before and you’re slowly remembering how fun it feels to dance with strangers in the middle of the castle’s ballroom. 

As the last few songs start to play, there’s no trace of nervousness left to be seen on your face. You’re finally in your element.

Until you finally find yourself in the arms of the same person who amplified your anxiety in the first place.

“Hey,” Chan greets with a soft smile as he fits one hand over your waist and entwines the other with yours. “I thought I’d never be able to get to you.”

You spend a couple of seconds just gawking at him, but your body thankfully still moves to the rhythm. Chan has the gall to stifle a laugh at your reaction and you nearly step on his foot on purpose.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss as he twirls you around. 

“Whoa. Don’t get so worked up. The headmaster invited me, so my presence here is completely legal,” he responds, that stupid smile never leaving his face. “Anyway, you look beautiful tonight.” 

“Thanks, but you could’ve at least told me you’ll be here!”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

You want to snap at him and scold him for taking you by surprise like that. Part of you kind of wants to ask about his date for the night too, but past the frustration, you’re still glad to see him. It’s been too long and you know you have lots of catching up to do in person. So instead of an endless barrage of questions, you simply bask in the feel of being in your best friend’s safe hands after going so long without him.

You lose yourself to the music. At that moment, it’s as if you and Chan are the only two people in the world—contained in your own little bubble. When your gaze lands on the hand clasped with yours, your heart soars at the fact that he’s still wearing the ring you gave to him all those months ago.

A forget-me-not at the base of his pinky—much like your own.

“I’m not sure if I can steal you away for a quick chat after this so…” He purses his lips together as if he’s unsure of what to say. “You’re doing great. The queen seems enamored with you from what I could tell from her speech, so I hope you won’t put yourself down like you always do. You’ll be the best princess consort ever.

“And you seem really happy with Prince Joshua. I’m glad.”

Before you could even issue a response, he’s already turning you over to your next partner—making the words dissipate on your tongue before you can say them out loud.

Your next partner is none other than your future brother-in-law and you’re not sure if this is a good thing or not.

“Having fun?” Jeonghan asks with mirth coloring his tone. 

“As much fun as someone who’s wearing heels all night can have,” you sigh as you match his careful yet precise movements. “Am I really going to have to do this all the time once Prince Joshua and I are married?”

The older man hums. “Mmm… You and Shua getting married? Not too sure about that, love.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What?” 

“Ah, forgive me. I was just teasing,” Jeonghan muses with a sleazy look that’s rubbing you the wrong way. “It’s just that…I noticed you and that last partner of yours have matching rings, as well. Seems too good to be a coincidence on my end, but I could just be making the wrong assumptions.”

You don’t know why, but your chest seizes with panic—immediately explaining to Jeonghan that Chan is your best friend and nothing else. It’s not that you’re ashamed of him, but…

“Relax, little dove. I never insinuated otherwise,” Jeonghan chuckles. “But if you’re going to settle down with my brother, I suggest you do it with an unwavering heart. That’s all.” 

You know you didn’t do anything remotely wrong, but Jeonghan is making it seem like he’s just caught you red handed for a crime you aren’t aware of committing. The same cheery smile lingers on his face for the entire dance, but there was an uncharacteristic seriousness in his words when he told you that last part.

A quiet voice inside your head tells you that you completely deserve the suspicion. 

“Go find your fiancé for the final dance, love,” Jeonghan says with one last gentlemanly bow. “It’s only fair to  properly conclude something you started together.” 

Something tells you that there’s a double meaning behind his words, but even with how much time you’ve spent with Jeonghan, you still can’t easily parse what he means to say. Despite this, you do as you’re told—weaving through the crowd of visitors in search of Joshua.

You find him near the orchestra, dancing with the same woman whose arm was linked in Chan’s earlier tonight. There’s an dazzled look on her face that you’ve seen on the other ladies your fiancé has danced with and you chalk it up to the usual enchantment people are subjected to when they’re in Joshua’s company. He has that effect on people, it seems.

But she promptly snaps out of it when her eyes drift off to you—whispering something for Joshua to hear before the prince spins around with a welcoming look. He grins like he’s oh-so happy to see you and even if you know you should feel just as elated…

All that swells in your chest is guilt.

“They want us to what?” 

A few days after the royal gala, Joshua pays your bedchambers a visit early in the morning. Sakura had just finished helping you into your corset and dress when the prince came knocking and despite your initial surprise, you gladly welcomed him at the doorway.

“Mother and Father want us to pay the local orphanage a visit,” Joshua reiterates the same words he just mentioned a minute ago, bemusement clear on his face. “They’ve been dispatching royal mages to hold magic classes for the young mages there lately. Jeonghan is usually the one who oversees it, but he has something more urgent to take care of today.”

Your throat bobs at the news. “But…I haven’t completed my assimilation yet.”

Joshua waves away your concerns. “About that. Since you’ve done such a remarkable job with your training thus far, and since you’ve apparently enamored dozens of guests the other day, I asked Father to reconsider the restrictions that come with the process.”

Enamored dozens of…? You shake your head, focusing on the matter at hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the assimilation period is still in effect, but we’ve decided to…rectify a few of the rules that come with it,” Joshua explains with a cheeky smile. “Once royal protégés like you have passed the half-year mark, you’ll be allowed to go in and out of the castle as you please.”

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. Is he being serious? Or is this a test? 

“Come on, you’re making that face again.”

“What face?”

“Like what I’m saying is too good to be true.” Your fiancé pouts. "Don’t you want to go out? If I was stuck for six months in the castle without getting a taste of the outside, I honestly would’ve gone insane. Abiding by the one year rule is simply inhumane and it should’ve been amended a long time ago.”

…There he is again—making things easier for you like he always does.

You’ve never once thought of the castle as a prison, but… You did miss the outside. You miss early morning strolls in parks, weaving through markets to buy produce from local vendors. It’s been so long since you’ve had actual freedom that you forgot that you were quietly longing for it at all.

And Joshua went out of his way to give you just that.

“Okay,” you tell him—cautiousness still evident in your tone, but much less pronounced.

“What time do we leave?”

You have a feeling that the gods are out to smite you today. 

No, really. They are. Because what sort of sick game is at play right now? Just when you thought you’ve found even more reasons to stick by Joshua until the end, they decide to throw a curveball at you in the form of…

“Oh, hello,” Chan greets with a stunned look when he appears behind the double doors to the orphanage—white marks that suspiciously look like cake batter smeared across his face. “I didn’t know that you were coming today. Prince Jeonghan said—”

“Yeah, Prince Jeonghan was busy so here we are,” you speak before Joshua could even explain, which you think is all kinds of rude, but your mouth starts running before your brain can even process the fact that your best friend is right in front of you. “Pray tell, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, princess-consort-in-the-making. What’re you doing outside the castle?” Chan laughs as he opens the door wider with an apologetic bow given to Joshua. “Forgive me, Your Highness. We’re always just this familiar with each other.”

“So I’ve been told,” Joshua chuckles before turning to you. “Didn’t your father tell you? Chan is his newly appointed aide. He’s dealing with something in your hometown right now, so he often sends him to tend to matters like this in his stead.”

No, your father did not tell you anything about this at all. Your incredulous expression shifts between your fiancé and best friend as if you’re waiting for the punchline of some joke shared between them.

It never comes.

“I-I see,” you say instead, clearing your throat before looking at Joshua again. “So is there anything I need to do?” 

“Mmm, you can go meet the children with Chan while I talk to the orphanage directress,” he suggests. “You’ll be alright with that, right Chan?”

Your best friend nods. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“No need to be so formal with me. My fiancée's friends are mine as well,” the prince chuckles while he shakes his head. “I best be off to the directress’ office. I’ll come find the two of you after. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Chan answers. “It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Joshua grins. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the  orphanage’s communal kitchen—rounding up children who might or might not hurt each other with their own play magic.

They were apparently in the middle of baking a cake for the directress when you and Joshua made your unannounced visit. From how smitten the kids are with Chan, you figure that he must’ve been spending a lot of time here lately.

Your best friend mentioned that he has a new…sideline going on, but you never imagined it to be this.

“Channie, who’s this?” Iseul—as Chan introduced—asks while he eyes you with a doe-eyed look. “Your wife?”

“Iseul,” reprimands one of the other kids. This one’s Eri, if you recall correctly. “That’s rude…”

The boy laughs nervously before fidgeting with his fingers. “O-Oh, sorry. I just thought so since she’s wearing the same ring Channie’s wearing.”

As if on cue, you and Chan both glance at your rings—two forget-me-nots stare back. 

Your best friend is the first to address their curiosity. “No, she’s not my wife.”

Iseul cranes his head. “Then why’re you two wearing matching rings? The directress told me that only people who are married can do that.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” he chuckles before walking towards the brick oven in the middle of the kitchen—striking the coals with a precise shot of flame magic. A quiet ember immediately smolders beneath. “We wear rings as a symbol of a promise we made to each other. Isn’t that right?”

Trying not to look too stunned with his precise technique, you clear your throat. “Um, yes. Chan is my best friend. We make promises all the time.”

You kind of fear that the explanation might not be enough for Iseul, but surprisingly, he just nods in understanding. “Ohhh. Just like me and Eri then!”

At the mention of her name, Eri’s face goes red, but she doesn’t make any moves to deny it. 

“Yup. Just like you and Eri,” Chan agrees with a laugh. “Come on. Let’s put the cake we worked so hard on in the oven. You want to give this as a gift to the directress, right?” 

Ten minutes later, the other kids joined the fray as they watched the cake rise inside the oven. You and Chan watch them carefully from a distance, making sure no one comes too close to burn themselves. 

“Sooo,” your best friend starts, leaning against the wooden counter. “Did the prince sneak you out or?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No. But he did negotiate with the king to overhaul the terms that come with the assimilation period. Once someone manages to last for six months, they’re allowed to go outside.”

Chan whistles. “Now that’s a guy who’ll do anything for his wife. Uh, future wife.”

If those words were uttered by someone else, you would’ve felt flattered. It’s an honor to have someone like Joshua as your fiancé. He’s done more than enough for you over the past year and you can’t even begin to comprehend how you’re supposed to pay him back for his kindness.

But when Chan says them, it fills your chest with a feeling you can’t name.

“Anyway,” you begin, “were you planning on telling me that you’re Father’s aide now or was I just going to find that out from Prince Joshua after all?” 

“Hehe, sorry,” he says, sounding anything but apologetic. “I…kinda wanted to keep it a surprise until your assimilation period is over. But turns out, I could get to see you much sooner after all.”

You roll your eyes despite the smile that creeps up your face. 

It’s common practice for royal mages to appoint aides that they’re training to be the next royal mage. You can only imagine how much Chan has improved over the last six months to have garnered your father’s approval like this. That man’s standards are crazy high.

But then again, you’ve always known that Chan was always cut out to be an amazing mage.

As the children’s attention shifts to Eri, who’s being egged on by Iseul to ‘do that trick with the flowers again’, you find yourself quietly observing them. With red cheeks, Eri relents—snapping her fingers once before a pretty sunflower materializes out of thin air.

That casual display even catches you off guard. 

At your side, Chan stifles a laugh and you shoot him a dirty look. “You and Eri have the same elemental affinity. She doesn’t know her way around plants yet, but she can make flowers from sheer will alone.”

That’s…quite impressive, actually. You haven’t met a promising mage with an affinity for plant life since Chaewon. And Eri is barely ten years old. 

“I bet she’ll grow up to be a fine mage,” you comment fondly as you keep your eyes on the kids. 

Just as you say the words, Iseul claps his hands enthusiastically—lone spurts of fire jumping from his fingers. The other kids all exclaim as they avoid the flames before telling Iseul to knock it off.

“Uh, yeah. Iseul is a fire elemental,” Chan says dryly. “He’s also kinda having trouble controlling his powers. But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here.”

At that moment, you realize that a lot can change in the span of six months. Before you left your hometown, you never would’ve imagined Chan being responsible for another child’s magical progress. You were so used to hearing him putting himself down that the confidence he now exudes surprises you. In a good way. 

Whatever he went through in the southern cities, you think of extending your gratitude to his mentor, Jongkook. You can only imagine what he put your best friend through for him to have this much trust in himself and his powers now.

Chan heaves a laugh that he pulls from the bottom of his stomach when one of the kids douses Iseul with a magical spray of water. It’s a sound you’ve longed to hear for months and now that his laughter is singing in your ears, you can’t help but stare at him a little too fondly.

What’s more is that he still has cake batter smeared across his cheek. You wonder if he genuinely isn’t aware it’s there or he’s just keeping it on for laughs. Still, you unconsciously lean closer—raising your hand to brush your fingers across the cream. Your best friend visibly startles at the gesture but makes no moves to shy away from your touch.

With your faces inches away, you start to realize just how close you’ve gotten. You can almost feel the hitch of his breath across your skin and… 

Has Chan always been this handsome?

But those few precious moments are immediately shattered like glass when Iseul gasps and points to the entrance of the kitchen. “Look! It’s Prince Jeonghan!”

You and Chan break apart like you’ve both been burned by Iseul’s flames. Confusion races through your brain because you were told that Jeonghan was busy today, so why…?

“Common mistake, but I’m not Prince Jeonghan. I’m his brother,” Joshua clarifies as he steps into the kitchen with a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

One of the other kids gasps. “Are you a prince too?” 

“He is.”

It surprises you that Chan is the one to speak up—having moved away from the counter and closer to the kids. You feel your heart twist when he leaves, but you shove down the emotion since Chan is beaming like he always is.

“He’s Prince Joshua and he’s getting married soon,” he continues before gesturing to you. “To her, actually.”

The children let out noises of awe, blinking up at you and Joshua with mouths agape like they’ve just witnessed someone do a neat trick with their magic. You can feel your face heat up at the sudden attention and you would’ve been glad to know that Joshua—for all his confidence and wit—isn’t faring so well either.

If only you weren’t so put down by the fact that your best friend just drew a fine line between the two of you. A line that he probably, definitely won’t cross.

“That’s right. If all goes well, we’re having the wedding in six months,” Joshua agrees quietly—his initial shock morphing into fondness. 

“Whoa! A royal wedding?” Iseul gasps. “Are we invited too?”

The atmosphere proceeds to blur into a buzz of questions that Joshua is happy to accommodate. For children who are probably no older than twelve years old, they seem very engrossed in the relationships interspersed between the royal family.

You wonder if Jeonghan had a hand in their particular interest in the matter, but you don’t ponder on it too much because Chan eventually excuses himself from the kitchen—asking you to watch over the cake while he goes to check on the other kids playing in the backyard.

Your eyes stay riveted to the entrance even when your best friend is long gone.

You’re not sure how you’ve managed to last nine months away from home, but here you are.

As the end of your assimilation draws near, so does the royal wedding that’s been the talk of the capital for weeks now. Ever since you’ve been given freedom to go out of the castle as you please, you’ve made several friends among the elite socialites. 

They’re always dying to get their hands on an inside scoop about what you and Joshua have planned for the final quarter of the process, but you often turn these requests down before convincing one of the ladies to tell you about the diamond necklace her husband got her for their anniversary. 

It’s a scheme that Sakura told you in passing: if you want to get the nosy ones off your back, just trick them into talking about themselves instead. 

Speaking of your handmaiden, she’s been busy booking you several trips to the most renowned boutique in the capital. With only three months left until the wedding, you’re expected to look out for the perfect dress to wear on that special day. 

Despite knowing that you’re more level-headed than most marriageable women your age, you have fantasized about what you would look like in a wedding gown. Although sixteen year-old you never would’ve considered getting to sample the designs of well-known tailors across the kingdom, much more being fussed over by the royal family itself.

What you pictured was a simple wedding in your hometown—donned with a dainty white dress that didn’t boast much glamor and glitz. The only visitors would be your family, some close friends, along with your colleagues and students. A spring wedding always seemed perfect to you, and whenever you imagined yourself walking down the aisle, the person waiting for you at the altar is—

“Oh my goodness,” the seamstress behind all the stunning dresses you're trying on gasps when she lets herself inside the dressing room—eyes glittering like rhinestones. “You look absolutely stunning! I definitely like the fit of this more than the others, miss!”

You startle out of your careful reminiscing as your brain zones back in on your reflection in the mirror. This dress is as white as an angel’s wings and though she is completely right about it easily being the best you’ve tried on so far, it’s a far cry from the one you dreamed about wearing as a teen. 

You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“You think so?” you murmur, pushing down those past preferences into the furthest vestiges of your mind. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aside from wedding gowns, the queen often consults you about the venue of the wedding. You’re actually quite surprised with how much agency they’re allowing you over the necessary decisions, but she insisted that it’s only fair for her future daughter-in-law to have a say with how her own wedding is going to pan out.

“I was thinking of holding it in the castle’s courtyard for all the kingdom to see,” she tells you over afternoon tea, a kind smile settled on her face. “That’s how all royal weddings usually take place, but I thought we could use some fresh input, you know?”

“Fresh input?” you repeat. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I don’t think I can follow…”

The queen shakes her head. “Silly girl, I’m asking if you have another venue in mind! Your ideas about royal politics have always been refreshing to hear, so I figured that you must have an alternative sitting inside that pretty mind of yours.”

The moment the words leave her lips, you immediately picture the riverbanks back in your hometown. It’s not a place that could accommodate hundreds upon thousands of guests like royal weddings should. But if you were to settle with a more intimate gathering, that would be your best bet.

Of course, you tell the queen none of this.

“I think holding it at the courtyard is a splendid idea already, Your Highness,” you tell her with a smile that you don’t quite believe in. “After all, there’s no place like home.”

Another thing to consider is the guestlist. Even if this is an event that the royal family encourages the entire kingdom to look forward to, only a select few are allowed inside the castle premises. 

For some reason, Jeonghan is the one saddled with the job to curate who gets to witness you being hailed both as Joshua’s wife and as princess-consort. He’s hard at work when you find him in the castle library one day, buried in stacks upon stacks of invitations with a look on his face that screams why am I even here?

Curious, you slide into one of the empty seats at the table. “I didn’t think they’d hand you a job so tedious.”

“They didn’t,” Jeonghan frames the words with a sigh. “I volunteered ‘cause I know it would make Shua happy.”

“You can make your little brother happy in other ways too,” you joke.

The older prince hums as he scribbles onto a fine sheet of parchment. “You’d know a lot about making my brother happy, now would you?”

Jeonghan has a reputation for being a scheming, sharp-tongued prince. You’re fully aware of this, but getting to live with him for almost a year made you see sides of him he doesn’t usually show to the public.

Though not as openly as Joshua does, he cares for his family and the staff in his own, quiet way. You like to think that his subtle thoughtfulness even extended to you during these fateful months in the castle. 

But after that fateful encounter in the ballroom during the six-month mark of your assimilation, something told you that you no longer had the privilege of being on the receiving end of his support.

“It’s kind of ironic, really,” Jeonghan muses before dipping his pen into the inkwell. “I’m willingly overseeing this blasted guestlist despite the fact that my brother is getting married to someone who doesn’t even love him. But I suppose it’s an older brother’s job to cater to the fantasy until he sees things for how they are on his own.”

“Your Highness, forgive me but it’s rather bold of you to assume that I don’t harbor an ounce of love for my fiancé,” you tell him outright, lacing your fingers together tightly on your lap. 

Right next to the lavish ring Joshua had given to you, a forget-me-not sits unassumingly by its side. 

Jeonghan laughs. “Really? That’s quite amusing, since I think it’s even bolder for you to choose responsibility over the man your heart truly longs for.”

Silence rings in the room like white noise and you aren’t able to school your expression into neutrality fast enough to escape Jeonghan’s observant eyes. The complacent set of his jaw clues you in on just how much he actually knows and you aren’t certain about what to make of it.

“Whatever you think is going on with me and…that person,” you start, the address tasting like acid on your tongue, “I guarantee you that it’s long gone. He’s the one who made it clear several months before and I never once intended to go back on something I already started.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes before pointing the tip of his quill at you. “You know, things would be much easier if you were just a gold-digging commoner and none else.”

Your face twists with offense. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he retaliates as he leans back in his seat. “If you were in this for money and power like every other woman out there, Shua would’ve called off the engagement much sooner. But even I know that you’re too good for that.”

Your momentary vexation with Jeonghan blurs into confusion in a matter of seconds. Is he making a jab at you or complimenting you?

When he recognizes the puzzled look on your face, he heaves a long-winded sigh before putting down his pen altogether.

“Let me put it this way: you’re objectively the best princess-consort-in-training that I’ve had the pleasure to meet. You do everything you’re told flawlessly—sticking by the book at all times if you can help it. You’d even sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of others. 

“While that sense of responsibility would make for a great leader in the future…my little brother doesn’t deserve to be loved as half-heartedly as you love him.”

Your heart thumps inside your ribcage as if it was a prison it longs to break free from. Part of you knows you should refute every single thing that Jeonghan just said. It’s what a future princess-consort should do. 

But every time your mind flashes back to that old spring wedding fantasy you conjured up in your hometown, Chan’s lovely smile burns itself into the back of your eyelids.

Wordlessly, Jeonghan goes back to work and you stew in the silence of the library much longer than you have to. It’s only when one of the servants calls both of your attention to have lunch in the dining hall that he speaks again.

“You still have several weeks to make up your mind, little dove,” Jeonghan whispers slowly the moment you both enter the dining hall. It doesn’t help your case when Joshua perks up in his seat at the sight of you walking inside with his older brother like he hasn’t given you an ultimatum right then and there. 

“Make sure each one counts.”

You don’t really receive letters from Chan anymore.

He’s stopped sending them together after you last met him in the orphanage. Your father explained that he’s been entrusted with several tasks both in and out of the Academy and that those take up most of his time. 

You want to tell him that your best friend never once missed a letter even during those hellish days he spent in the southern cities, but in the end, you decide to keep your silence.

Thoughts about letters that won’t come are the last thing on your mind when winter falls upon the kingdom. The preparations are in full swing despite the fact that there’s still a month left before the wedding itself and because you refuse to be a sitting duck that lets everyone do all the work, you decide to contribute every now and again.

But even if there’s a sense of accomplishment in being able to help around, this season has always been your least favorite. 

You’re a mage who practices with plants and flowers alike, so it’s only natural for you to feel under the weather this time around. The fact that you’ve scarcely gotten to practice your magic ever since you set foot in the capital does little in contributing to your peace of mind as well.

Your hometown is teeming with plant life that you could nurture with the simplest spells. Inside the stone walls and marble floors of the royal castle, there’s barely anything that requires your constant care. 

It’s a given that royals tend to avoid relying on magic for all matters concerning the regency. You were taught that cleverness and wit are the two things that will keep you alive among the foreign courts of other kingdoms and that things like magic can be entrusted to the royal mages instead.

But all it takes is a withering winter to make you realize that you don’t want your magic—the very core of who you are—to dwindle into nothingness.

It’s for that reason that you find yourself heading over to the castle gardens despite the fact that you promised Sakura that you’d start practicing for matrimonial dance with your usual instructor this afternoon. The sun has barely peeked beyond the clouds these days, but you’re convinced that you’ll at least find comfort in the flowers that grew sparsely inside.

There, you find Joshua crouched next to a shrub of carnations.

He’s dressed down today—comfortably enough to let you know that he doesn’t have any plans for the meantime. Your fiancé is examining each bloom with such rapt attention, you’re convinced he didn’t even notice your arrival. 

Surely enough, as you take the first step to approach him, he rises back to his full height—turning around with a vibrant carnation in his hand.

Everyone inside the castle uses their magic so infrequently that you sometimes forget that you and Joshua share the same elemental affinity. Maybe that’s the reason it was so easy for you to get along with him for the past eleven months. 

But you know better than most that there’s more to it than just that.

“You’ve been very busy lately,” Joshua comments with an easygoing smile. “I barely see you these days.”

You sigh, tucking your cardigan closer to your form. “If I’m not helping with the wedding preparations, I’m holed up in my bedchambers. I…don’t really like winters.”

“Neither do I,” he chuckles. “But my duties won’t stop just because I loathe the cold. I’m sure you understand that well.”

The quiet settles over the both of you like a blanket of snow—making you wonder how you used to deal with long winters in the past. 

Then you remember a boy who’s always brought warmth in your life without even trying. Nights spent sleeping in front of the fireplace, tucked in the warmth of his body no matter how harsh the blizzards could be. Collective yearning for the day the snow finally melts and spring returns with a flowery smile. 

But that’s the thing—it’s all in the past.

“Can I…ask you something?”

The hesitation in Joshua’s words makes you stare at him pensively. 

He always sounds sure of himself. Attractively confident. Not in a way that others would find obnoxious, but the complete opposite. There’s a reason why Joshua is so loved in his own kingdom yet right now, you’re starting to see the cracks forming on his gentlemanly demeanor. 

“What is it?” you murmur softly despite dread slowly sinking its claws into your skin.

Joshua tilts his head up to the overcast sky like he’s wondering if it’s going to snow today. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply before meeting your eyes again.

“Are you certain you still want to go through with the wedding?”

This…oddly feels like the time you found Jeonghan in the library. The guilt you’ve been harboring for the longest time festers at the implications of his question and you wonder if everything you’ve worked so hard on for the past year will come crashing down today.

“Of course,” you tell him but you’re well aware Joshua knows a lie when he hears it. 

“Really?”

“Is there something specific that you wish for me to say?”

He sighs—the cold starting to materialize with each breath. “No, nothing in particular.”

“It’s just that I believe it would be unfair of me to impose marriage when your heart already belongs to someone else.”

The water running from the fountain is all that plagues your ears yet Joshua’s admission doesn’t evoke the visceral reaction you had to Jeonghan telling you nearly the same thing. Hearing the words come from your fiancé’s mouth doesn’t instill you with guilt.

No… This is something much closer to acceptance.

“I once thought that your time in the castle would give enough leeway for us to get to know each other better,” he continues with a sad smile. “And it did. I’m certain that we’re much closer now than we were a year ago. But… I was a fool to think I could ever get you to love me the same way you love him.”

You’re immediately seized with the need to placate him somehow. After all, you were taught that it’s a wife’s duty to ease her husband’s troubles should he confide in her.

But you’re not Joshua’s wife. 

(And from how this conversation is going, you might never be.)

All of a sudden, something that Jeonghan said to you in the library resurfaces in your mind. At the time, you were too frustrated with him to actually process the words, but suddenly all of it makes sense.

I suppose it’s an older brother’s job to cater to the fantasy until he sees things for how they are on his own.

“You’ve known all this time,” you tell him incredulously. “Why… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think that you were obligated to love me for my sake. That’s something that should never be imposed,” he murmurs, twirling the flower in his hands almost wistfully. “I assumed that…maybe if I just gave you enough time, it would come to you naturally. But sometimes things just don’t work out the way you thought and that’s okay.”

If you weren’t trembling in your shoes a minute ago, you certainly are now.

“Joshua,” you whisper. “What are you saying?”

The smile on his face never wavers even as he crosses the distance between you and pulls you into a sound embrace. It catches you off guard for a second because Joshua has never initiated this kind of contact during your entire stay. 

But even with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the fact that your mind immediately compares it to how it feels to have Chan’s heat permeating your skin…

It only means that this engagement is as good as over.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Joshua whispers back—one hand smoothing across your hair as he holds you in place. “For giving yourself the chance to love me. For being selfless enough to do everything you’ve done so far. I used to admire your self-sacrificing tendencies, but…

“Now I’m sure it’s high time that you chose yourself for a change.”

You don’t know when the tears started to fall, but you find comfort in the crook of Joshua’s neck as you sob into his arms. He doesn’t say a word as you let it out—all the years you spent looking after others, putting their wellbeing first before your own.

You’ve gotten so accustomed to taking responsibility for everyone around you that it never really occurred to you that things don’t have to be that way.

You’re allowed to choose yourself. You’re allowed to be selfish. 

“Go,” Joshua murmurs against the crown of your head. “Go back home. You deserve as much.”

You look up at him, sniffling. “B-But the wedding—”

“There won’t be a wedding,” he reassures with the same sad smile that breaks your heart to see. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll explain the situation to everyone. Right now…you have to go because your father informed me that he’s leaving soon.”

As if you haven’t already been given enough to deal with in a single day, you feel like an anvil has been dropped into the pit of your stomach.

“What do you mean?” 

“Lee Jung Chan was assigned to travel to another reputable magic school on the other side of the continent to build an alliance with the Academy,” Joshua explains swiftly. “He leaves tonight and won’t come back in a long, long while depending on how the initial negotiations turn out.”

An alliance…? 

Is that what he’s been so preoccupied with these days? So much that he can’t even spare the time to write to you anymore?

Before the next bout of tears could spill from your eyes, Joshua calmingly tucks a loose tuft of your hair behind your ear. He looks at you with so much adoration and longing that you briefly entertain the possibility of you loving him unconditionally in another life.

You hope he’ll be happier there.

“There’s a carriage waiting for you at the gates of the capital,” Joshua says. “Leave now while you still have time.”

You want to say something. To apologize to him. To thank him. To tell him that he deserves the world and much, much more. 

But all you do is slide off the diamond engagement ring from your finger, handing it to Joshua with an apologetic look before bolting to the castle entrance—not even sparing him a single word in goodbye.

Venues? Wedding gowns? Invitations? None of these mattered anymore.

Not when you're about to lose your best friend—the love of your life.

Joshua tries not to think about how your hand looked now that it was devoid of his gift; how all that remained is a promise ring that he should’ve taken as a sign to give up a long time ago. 

Just as he hears the commotion stirring down the winding halls, Joshua looks up at the sky again. When he closes his eyes, he feels the first few snowflakes land on his face—cold and solitary, much like himself.

Even so...

You broke his heart in the middle of winter, yet Joshua still looks forward to the flowery smile of spring.

The moment you arrived at your hometown, you weren’t sure where to start looking. For one, the coachman who brought you here said that your father was out of town for undisclosed reasons. You couldn’t exactly march up to the headmaster’s office in the Academy to interrogate him about Chan’s whereabouts. 

That’s why you opted to start with your best friend’s house openly greeted by his mother with a shocked expression as she asks what on earth you were doing so far away from the royal capital.

“Uh, it’s a long story,” you tell her sheepishly as you try not to shiver too much from the cold. “I promise I’ll keep you up to speed, but for now I really need to find Chan.”

She hesitates for a moment and you chalk it up to the fact that Chan’s mother must be thinking she’s going to have a hand in something illegal if she helps you. After all, she’s always had good instincts when either you or her son were up to no good.

But you tell yourself that this is probably the most good you’ve done for yourself in a long, long time. 

In the end, she directs you to the Academy—saying something about Chan wanting to deal with a few things first before he leaves. With just half an hour until nightfall, several students can be seen walking out of the gates after a long day. Some just pass by you without a word, while others throw second glances over their shoulder—as if they couldn’t believe that you’re back either. 

You recognize those kids to be some of your former students, but you can’t bring yourself to stop for a quick chat—simply hoping they’ll forgive you for your haste.

But through the thundering of your heart, you hear a familiar voice call your name in the crowd.

“You’re back!" Chaewon remarks with a delightful gasp before tackling you with a firm embrace. “Why didn’t you tell us you were visiting? Did you bring Prince Joshua with—?”

“Chaewon, where’s Chan?” you interject almost desperately.

Your old student blinks up at you, rightfully confused. “Um, he’s going on a trip for a while. Yunjin told me just now that she saw the other royal mages that gathered here leave on their horses an hour ago. Why? Did you need something from him?”

The news makes you feel like your head has been submerged in murky waters—cloying your senses until you could no longer make sense of what’s around you. Chaewon flashes you a disconcerted look, asking if everything is alright. 

You want to tell her that you’re fine, but you can’t find the words. Your mouth feels cottony and your eyes are starting to sting. Instead of answering, you turn on your heel, biting down the guilt that comes with dismissing one of your favorite students as you run towards the opposite direction.

Chaewon calls out for you several times, but you don’t look back.

Maybe you should just head back to the castle and tell Joshua that this was all a mistake—a lapse in judgment that can still be taken back. You should just see your assimilation through until the end. You’ve already made it so far, after all.

But you just know, deep in your gut, that Joshua wouldn’t accept that so easily. He made it clear that he wants you to want him with no holds barred. Not because you feel responsible for his feelings. Not because the love of your life has already left. That’s just who he is as a person.

Not wanting to burst into tears for the second time today, you find yourself walking towards the greenhouse—craving that familiar solace you always get whenever you’re inside. Your father told you he was going to keep an eye on it while you were gone and you figure that he’d been telling the truth when you find the enclosure just as you’ve left it. 

Several of your personal experiments seem like someone enchanted them with time suspension magic—looking the exact way they did before you left almost a year ago. Among the other plants and flora are other pieces you don’t recognize. You figure that these must be Chaewon’s work and you remind yourself to compliment her once you sort yourself out. 

But when you don’t spot a certain plant box you were looking for, a frown roots itself on your face.

Did Chan move your forget-me-nots somewhere else? The vibrant blue flowers should’ve been easy to spot even amidst the lush blooms all around you, but there’s nothing like that in the vicinity. 

You take your search outside for reasons unknown. Perhaps it’s the restlessness of just staying in one place when you know the very symbol of your promise with your best friend is nowhere to be found. As you make your way out, you glance at the single flower sitting at the base of your pinky—sadly wondering if Chan is even still wearing his. 

But the moment you make it to the back of the greenhouse, you’re much too stunned with the sight that beholds you.

What once was a vacant patch of grasslands is now filled to the brim with forget-me-nots that glow vibrantly in comparison to the bleak gray winter. Despite the drop in temperature, the field of blue flowers stretches on until the borders of the Academy and you have to pinch yourself and make sure you’re not dreaming. 

Then, as if this situation can’t get any more unbelievable, you spot someone crouched in the middle of the field of forget-me-nots.

Your best friend.

Chan doesn’t immediately notice you—seemingly lost in thought, just like the day you found him by the riverbanks a year ago. For someone that’s leaving on an indefinite trip to the other side of the continent, he surely doesn’t look dressed the part, having opted for his comfortable cotton tunic and trousers instead of the garbs royal mages and aides are required to don.

You don’t think twice. You just run.

He lets out an undignified yelp when you tackle him into the ground—palms heating up with a flare of his magic with the full intention of blasting away the intruder. But when he finds his best friend lying right on top of him amidst the forget-me-nots, he’s engulfed with a different kind of heat entirely.

“You asshole,” you hiss with teary eyes, beating your fists weakly against his chest. “You’re going away for a long time and you didn’t even bother to tell me? Am I suddenly not your best friend anymore?”

There’s nothing more that Chan hates than seeing you cry, but he loathes it even more when he’s the cause of your tears. He doesn’t even know if you’re actually here with him. You should be back at the royal castle, preparing for your wedding and not sobbing because of your best friend.

But the warmth of your body nestled on top of his own is much too real. It’s the same sensation he’s craved since you left. The same feeling he’s always longed for, for as long as he can remember. 

And he’s not such a glutton for punishment that he’ll deprive himself of it any longer.

Chan cracks a barely there smile, the breath of his laughter materializing in front of him as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. He’s not sure if your face flushes because of him or the cold, but he likes to think it’s the former.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, opting to save his many questions for later. “Dunno how you found out about the trip, but I backed out of it last minute. Told the headmaster that I’m not the best with negotiations and that I might unknowingly start a war in the process.”

He half-expects you to either laugh in his face despite the clearly distraught expression you’re wearing or fume at him for being so ridiculous. You probably made the trip from the capital to your hometown just to see him off and he’ll understand your frustration at the fact that his participation was rendered null and void.

But you do neither of these things.

Instead, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt—pulling him up and leaning forward at the same time. 

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about kissing Chan at least once in your life. But you can attest to the fact that you didn’t imagine it to happen while you’re freshly broken up from a year-long engagement—snowflakes starting to fall in the field of flowers you asked him to take care of.

Those he promised to take care of.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, hands trembling from where they grip Chan’s clothes as you force your breathing to even out. “I’ve always loved you and I’m the biggest idiot in the world for not accepting that sooner.”

Chan gazes up at you in stunned silence, lips moving as if meaning to say something in return but the words evade him. But just when you’re about to emphasize your point again, Chan raises an arm to  shield his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You’re lying,” he chuckles almost helplessly. “You’ve got to be messing with me.”

A scowl stretches across your lips. How could that be his first reaction? You thought he’d be elated that you came back and professed your feelings. 

But then you entertain the possibility that…what if you’ve read the entire situation wrong? What if Chan never had any feelings of the romantic kind for you at all?

What if you risked everything for nothing?

“Lee Jung Chan,” you whisper threateningly. “I left the Crown Prince himself in a heartbeat when I found out you were going away. Made the entire trip from the capital to here just for the slim chance of seeing you before you left. I even kissed you outside in the middle of winter because I was so fucking glad that you’re here to stay. If that isn’t genuine enough for you, then what else do you want me to do?” 

Your best friend lowers his hand and you try not to waver at the sight of his puffy red eyes. He sucks in a deep breath that almost whistles down his throat before taking one of your hands and lifting it closer to his face.

At the base of your pinky is the same ring he’s never once taken off since you gave it to him.

As night falls and the endless snow falls upon your hometown, two lone figures in a field full of flowers remain undisturbed in their lonesome. 

For some, love is something you don’t give half-heartedly. For others, it should never be imposed.

For you, it’s a whirlwind of emotions that you could never quite figure out how to deal with.

Yet when it comes to Lee Jung Chan, you realize that love has always been easy.

“Chan,” you sigh into the cold air of his bedroom as your best friend peppers your neck with kisses much too heated than you expected. “S-Slow down a little.”

He breathes out a laugh that sounds much too airy for your liking. Chan detaches his lips from your skin as he flashes you a gummy smile. “Slow down? I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. I don’t think I can slow down anymore, princess.”

You have to fight the urge to hit him with his choice of words. “Act any more cheeky and I’m walking out of your house.”

“Duly noted.” 

Then his mouth is back on yours. 

The trip back to Chan’s house—a new, one bedroom apartment near the town square, not his mother’s house—was a bit tricky. For one, you had to walk around where virtually everyone knows you to be Prince Joshua’s fiancée, answering questions about what you’re doing back home with the wedding coming up so close. 

You keep your answers curt and short—not wanting to ignite the scandal of a lifetime before Joshua can even prepare the ample damage control. That and each time someone mentions how happy they are for your engagement, you can feel Chan’s eyes boring into the back of your head. 

So now you’re here, crowded beneath your best friend on his mattress as he kisses your breath away. 

You’ve never done this before. The most daring thing you’ve done with Joshua, who was literally your fiancé for almost a year, was that last hug you shared before you left the castle for good. So you suppose no one can blame you for feeling so lightheaded from the feel of Chan’s lips pressed against yours alone.

It doesn’t help that, even through his desperation to leave no space between the two of you, there’s still caution weighted beneath his desire. He could probably sense the hesitation in your movements as you reciprocate his vigor—kissing back almost awkwardly despite how good his kisses are making you feel. 

“Open your mouth a little for me,” he murmurs, one hand cradling your jaw as you let out a little whimper. “Come on, don’t get shy on me now. I promise you’ll like it.”

Not wanting to keep either of you waiting for much longer, you do as you’re told—opening your mouth just a tad wider right after Chan kisses you again. He easily muffles the gasp you make with his lips when you feel his tongue lick into your mouth. The sensation makes gooseflesh prickle your arms and he coaxes out another embarrassing noise from you—one too salacious for others to hear freely.

“See? What’d I tell you?” he whispers breathlessly against your lips—a strong arm coiling around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “You like it that much?”

You nod meekly. Chan laughs.

“I wanna try something. Hold on.”

Confused, you watch your best friend take a spot beside you on his bed, legs sprawled across the mattress as he tugs you closer to him. You resist his ministrations for a moment as you try to figure out what on earth he’s planning to do. But then it dawns on you. 

He wants you to sit on his lap.

“Too much?” he asks with a hint of caution, to which you quickly respond with a shake of your head. 

“Just…surprising,” you admit as you settle your hips across his thighs. 

You kind of want to ask where he even learned about all this, but part of you doesn’t want to know the answer. Picturing Chan lying with someone else like this is enough to kill your mood, so you decide to push the thought far away until you could no longer remember it.

Despite how…strange and new this is to you, it’s much more comfortable than having his weight press you down into the mattress. Not to mention, you can just brace your hands on Chan’s shoulders as he licks further into your mouth—fingers laced behind the small of your back as you continue whimpering into his kisses.

Gods above. Will you even get out of this alive?

“You taste so sweet,” Chan murmurs before carding his fingers through your hair. “Much better than I imagined.”

You find it in you to chuckle in spite of yourself. “You’ve been imagining this?”

“Enough times to grant me admission to an asylum,” your best friend replies with a sigh as he continues combing your tresses. “I’m crazy about you, if that isn’t obvious enough. Wanted to kiss you so bad back in the orphanage when you leaned in way too close.”

You didn’t know it at the time, but looking back at it now, you definitely felt the same. Now you’re not sure whether or not you should treat Joshua’s untimely entrance in the kitchen that day as a miracle or a curse. 

“I did too,” you profess with little hesitation, tracing the curve of his lips with your thumb before resting your forehead against his. “We’re so stupid. If only we admitted our feelings earlier, we wouldn’t be in such a huge mess.”

Chan hums. “You mean…if I just spoke up when you got Prince Joshua’s proposal, you would’ve rejected it?”

“Of course I would,” you nearly exclaim. “I’ve loved you since we were kids, Chan.”

“Ditto. Guess we have lots of missed time to make up for.”

When he claims your lips again, it’s charged with want so potent you can almost taste it on your tongue. Chan presses your body even closer to his, if that’s even possible and as he continues building up the fever pitch of your desire, you start to shift uncomfortably on his lap—slick beginning to pool between your thighs the deeper he kisses you. 

The evidence of his own arousal pokes against your middle as well—leaving Chan a groaning mess each time you unknowingly jerk your hips to chase after the barest hint of friction. You don’t know where all this will lead nor do you know what comes after.

All that matters is that Chan is with you right here, right now.

Your clothes all come off one by one. Chan doesn’t forget to drag his lips across every inch of newly exposed skin—a quiet, unrelenting profession of his feelings. He wants to engrave himself into every part of you; to leave his mark so that you’ll remember him still even if he only gets to have you for the night.

But what Chan just doesn’t get is that your heart has already been set on him since the start.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, trailing his calloused fingers along the sensitive curve of your waist when he lays you down on your back. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t like.”

It’s so Chan of him to be this concerned about your boundaries. But you don’t know how else to say that you want nothing more than to take things all the way aside from tugging him back down for another breathtaking kiss.

“Is it going to hurt?” you ask, genuinely curious, just a tad bit afraid.

Your best friend purses his lips, the heat of his body offering you some much needed comfort as he plants another kiss on the corner of your mouth. “It will for a while. But I’ll ease you into it and make you feel good. I promise.”

Chan says the words like you have anything but trust in him. You know he needs a verbal confirmation out of you, but you’re both too embarrassed and too aroused to give him the green light out loud. Instead, you nod your head twice—leaning closer to his ear to whisper:

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Your best friend sighs out something that suspiciously sounds like gods, I love you, before burying his face in your exposed chest—lips latching onto one of the pert nipples as he massages your other breast languidly. The wet sound of his mouth getting to work makes your face flush several shades of red and your sex to leak even more slick than it already has. 

There’s just something so arousing about how careful Chan is with your body. He handles you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and throws your mind into an inexplicable haze.

But then again, maybe you’re just that in love with the guy.

You visibly tense underneath his touch when you feel him start to prod his fingers along your glistening seam. You’re so sensitive that you twitch from the slightest contact and Chan sighs a laugh into your chest when he feels it.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I can’t make you feel good if you’re too high-strung.”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff. “You’re not the one who’s about to be fucked into oblivion.”

Chan startles from how easily the words fall from your lips—mouth agape like a fish out of water. You wonder if you said something out of turn but when he kisses you for the millionth time today, you notice something else eclipsing his ready set gentleness.

Something more carnal.

“You can’t rile me up by talking so filthily like that,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m trying to be a good lover by taking things slow. Promise you won’t catch me off guard like that again?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Chan, you know I don’t make promises I can’t keep. But I'll try~”

“Fuck. Alright. I can work with that.”

When he eases a finger inside your awaiting heat, you find the sensation a little uncomfortable. It’s like having something inside you that doesn’t quite belong there. Chan analyzes your reactions in the silence as he continues prodding your entrance—looking for any signs of discomfort like a hawk as he experimentally thrusts that single digit in and out of you.

“F-Feels weird,” you mumble. “Is it supposed to feel weird?”

“I guess you’d feel that way if it was your first time,” he chuckles and your eyes narrow at the implication behind his words. “But I’ve got to loosen you up if I don’t want to hurt you.”

So this wasn’t his first after all. Though you want nothing more than to hear tales about former escapades, you decide to grill him about it later. 

You’re about to question how something like this can do that before Chan robs you of your capacity to think coherently, curling his slender finger inside you until he brushes a spot that has your muscles spasming underneath him. A wicked smile finds its way to his face as he slips in another finger so easily—the pads grazing that sensitive patch of flesh to coax out the same reaction from you.

“Still weird?” he laughs. 

“Good…” you whimper, grinding your hips shamelessly into his hand. “Feels so good, Chan.” 

Your best friend sighs as he watches you slowly cross the threshold between awkward curiosity and the beginnings of an enjoyable time. You’re wet and wanting—just like how he hoped you’d be and the way your tight walls clench around his fingers barely tempers the raw anticipation that sizzles in his veins. 

Gentle. He needs to be gentle. 

He doesn’t want to lose control when he’s waited oh-so long for this moment.

But god fucking damn are you making it so hard when you’re moaning so prettily for him.

“C-Chan,” you mewl and he feels you tighten even more around his digits. “It feels weird again… Like something’s coming.”

He sucks in a sharp breath before pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. The sensation makes you buck further into his hand and Chan can only do so much to keep himself from just fucking you into the bed.

“Let go,” he tells you before flicking his thumb across your puffy clit. “Let it all go, beautiful. Don’t be scared. I’m right here.”

The newfound stimulation blindsides you in a way you didn’t expect—reducing you into a mumbling mess of arousal beneath your best friend as he continues tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub. Your first (of many) orgasms crashes over you like a tidal wave and you sigh out his name so needily, he can barely contain himself for much longer. 

But he doesn’t rush you no matter how pent up he is—he won’t, he won’t, he won’t. 

Besides, the sight of you so fucked out from taking his fingers alone—lips parted, chest heaving, eyes pulling in and out of focus—is a reward in and of itself. 

“You still with me?” your best friend checks in with a concerned look, wiping the sweat that beads across your forehead with the back of his hand. 

But the moment his skin makes contact with yours again, you absentmindedly grab his hand—pressing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“I’ll always be with you.”

Gods above. He doesn’t deserve you.

When he’s sure you’re ready, Chan positions himself right before your entrance—carefully nudging your thighs apart as he fists the angry red erection he’s been sporting all night. The sight of his cock makes you blush, but you figure there’s no point in acting coy now that you’ve made it this far.

“You know what to do when I do something you don’t like, right?” 

You nod—not really hearing the words with how transfixed you are on other things. “Y-Yes.”

Chan offers up a lazy smile. “That’s my girl.”

You take all of him inch by unbearable inch—your walls meeting the stretch that his girth offers with mild resistance. His fingers are child’s play compared to this and you force yourself to power through it despite how it burns. 

Of course, Chan doesn’t miss a beat despite how hard you try to conceal your discomfort.

“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” he asks with an apologetic smile, wiping the tears that are pooling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. Just a bit more and you’ll get used to it.”

“You promise?”

Your best friend brings an outstretched pinky close to your face—the same pinky with the ring that started all of this staring back at you. The moment you hook your own finger around his, your best friend murmurs:

“I promise.”

Chan is quite patient despite the fact that he’s balls-deep inside of you—keeping the innate desire to just ram his length into you until you’re a sobbing, crying mess for him. The Academy’s best graduate, the kingdom’s sweetheart, his perfect best friend. All reduced to tears on his cock.

“Chan,” you breathe in deeply, having finally accustomed yourself to how he stretches you out. “Y-You can move now.”

Shit. You sound so shy, so innocent.

How could he not give you what you want?

The first outward drag of his hips pulls a pretty little whimper out of you and an even prettier moan when he thrusts back in. Chan sighs as he minds the pace he’s set, cradling your face with one hand as he steadies you with the other.

“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a featherlight kiss on your nose. “More than there are stars in the sky, more than how many flowers you’ll ask me to look after while you’re gone.”

His sweet words are subverted with a harsh thrust that he does experimentally to see how you’d react to it. When Chan doesn’t see any indication of pain or dislike, he repeats it—again and again until he can feel you coating his length in the slick of your leaking arousal. 

“Feels so fucking good around me,” he rasps, keeping himself from biting into your shoulder because he isn’t sure of how you feel about those kinds of marks just yet. “Perfect… You’re so, so perfect. I’ve never loved anyone else as much as I love you.”

It feels a bit worrisome, admitting all this in the heat of it all. Chan fears that you would find his words a tad disingenuous. For all he knows, you’re thinking that it’s your wonderful cunt making him say all these sweet nothings. 

But you’re too far gone yourself to even think about the specifics.

“Deeper,” you beg, lacing your fingers around his neck as more tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Need to feel you deeper, Chan.”

You’re going to be the death of him—this he’s finally sure of.

The fat head of his cock batters your poor, abused pussy with the vigor of someone who’s been waiting for you all his life. Chan babbles out a mantra of compliments and praise all strung together in a haze of pleasurable delirium as your nails start to rake across his back. 

“Want you to be mine forever,” he sighs against your lips—his hot breath fanning against your face. “Can I have you? For the rest of my life?”

Even in the throes of passion, the answer comes to you so easily.

“I’m yours,” you cry out as he angles his cock just right and grazes the spot that makes you see stars. “I’m yours, Chan. Always yours. Forever yours.”

Your mind crumbles as your release crests out of nowhere—coherence draining from every recess of your mind while Chan fucks you through your high. He snaps his hips unforgivingly as he chases his own orgasm. His fingers leave red imprints on your thighs with how firmly they dig into your supple flesh and they stay there even when he finally pinpoints his release. 

The two of you collapse onto the mattress with shallow breaths, sweat-slicked skin sticking to each other with how close your bodies are. When your mind finally returns to the shores of reality, you dare to crack your eyes open—only to see your best friend looking back at you with a tired smile.

This is the man who saw you cry over a stick fort that he accidentally stepped on when you were kids. 

The one who thinks you’re still pretty even when your face is rife with tears and snot.

The one who skips stones with you in the river at sunset. 

The one who keeps you warm by the fireplace during every winter.

The one who defended you from classmates who accused you of being a fraud that rode on her father’s coattails. 

The one you’ll gladly spend the rest of your life with.

You think you should find it strange how Joshua suddenly comes to mind now that you’re finally where you want to be. But if it weren’t for him, you never would’ve gotten that final push to be selfish—to choose yourself for once and not feel any ounce of remorse for doing so.

If it weren’t for him, you never would’ve felt what true happiness feels like.

“So…” your best friend starts as he pulls a blanket over your naked bodies. “For tonight’s pillow talk, you get to decide the topic of interest.”

You snort. “Okay. What are my choices?”

“Hm. The first is: what are we going to do now that we’re together-together when the entire kingdom still thinks you’re still Prince Joshua’s fiancé? You still owe me a story about how the engagement fell through, by the way. Unless I’m actually a homewrecker…?”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully slap his chest. “What’s the second option?”

He grins at you cheekily. “What pet names can I use on you while we’re having sex because…I honestly held back the entire time ‘cause I didn’t know what you were comfortable with.”

“I don’t really mind anything,” you say. “Just…nothing too degrading?” 

“Alright.” Chan nods. “What do you say about lovebug?”

The suggestion is met with a scowl, making Chan giggle underneath the covers.

“Not a fan? How about my little dew drop? My chrysalis blooming into a beautiful butterfly? My hundred year-old tree that never ceases to amaze me with your beauty? My spectacle in an endless galaxy? My—”

“Lee Jung Chan, if you don’t shut up right now, I might just march back to the capital right this moment after all.”

Chan responds to your threat with a needy whine as he cages you around his arms. Your best friend nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck with a sulky pout.

“No! You’re mine. I don’t care if everyone else thinks otherwise.” He huffs and you entertain him with a laugh before Chan eventually disentangles himself from you—the playful expression on his face morphing into something more sobering.

“I was serious about the first pillow talk suggestion, by the way,” he murmurs. “Once the news breaks out, it isn’t going to be easy for any of us.” 

“I know.”

Chan raises an eyebrow at your nonchalance. “Hm? You’re usually the type to psych yourself out way too much when problems like this arise. Who are you and what did you do to my worrywart of a best friend?”

Paying his teasing no mind, you lean in to press your lips to his. The moment Chan’s shoulders sink in surrender, you smile against his mouth.

“Honestly? I don’t really care about what happens,” you admit, tracing the outline of his chest with your finger. “As long as I’m with you, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chan is quiet for a while—a loving look glazing over his eyes at the sight of you.

“Yeah.” 

Your best friend presses another kiss to your temple, lacing your fingers together.

Two forget-me-nots finally find their way back to each other. 

“We’ll be alright.”

⟢ end notes: and that concludes the longest oneshot i've ever written for a seventeen member :') honestly considered breaking this into parts, but decided not to in the end bcs telling their story in one go felt like the best way to go about it! shoutouts to my good buddies and pals from svthub for the constant support and pep talk they offered while i was writing this monster of a fic. freya, my bridgerton sunbae, and zeta, my favorite wonwoorideul (real), thank you tons for your lovely input <3 your silly comments on the doc always made me smile. ofc i won't forget nana who gave me an...interesting list of pet names chan would unironically use on his s/o lol that said, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoy the other fics posted under the spring collab! all writers who contributed poured their hearts into each piece <3

this is part of the secret garden, a svthub spring collab and the it's complicated series!

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #dino smut #lee chan smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #📖 collabs #full length fic 📚 #🐇 i always need queue

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ii.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The party’s already in full swing when you arrive at the OKB house. While getting ready, you lost track of time. Putting the finishing touches on your hair and nails took longer than you planned. 

You dodge the bodies swaying to the loud music to make your way to your friends through the swirling blue lights. 

Mindy spots you right away and waves at you. 

"Not bad, freshman," she praises as you twirl in front of her and Mindy to show off your nurse costume decorated with splashes of fake blood.  

They’re both sprawled on the couch, limbs twined. Expectedly, only Anika made the effort to don anything resembling a costume, a pumpkin-colored hat with a bloody knife poking out of it sitting atop her head. 

Mindy even bothering to come considering what happened the last time she attended a frat party is already a huge effort on her part. 

You chat for some time, sharing the latest news regarding your friends. 

 You learn that apparently Tara got into it with her sister…again.

A lot of tension has built between the two of them lately, Sam’s protectiveness clashing with Tara’s craving for independence. 

Maybe Sam’s been overdoing…but who can blame her?

Those two have been through hell and back. 

"Have you guys seen Connor?" 

While you attempt to sound casual, even tossing a shrug, Mindy sees right through you and flashes you a teasing grin. 

"One-track minded, huh?"

Your face warms. "Sorry, I just…I really looked forward to seeing him."

Anika gives your hand an encouraging squeeze. 

"It’s okay, babe. To be young and in love."

"And horny," Mindy adds, dragging a quick eye over your outfit as her smile broadens. 

Her comment sparks more heat in your cheeks. Sure, things between you and Connor are growing steamier. But you don’t want to rush anything. You like him, and you want your first time to be special, romantic.

"I’ll see you guys later."

"Have fun," Mindy says, waving her beer bottle at you.

Your search resumes and you grow nervous, pondering if Connor is even in attendance. Maybe you missed him. Downsides of running late. 

Damn you and your tendency to spend hours dolling yourself up. 

 As you wander across the room, you nearly crash into a familiar broad, muscular back.

An easy smile creeps on your face when your friend turns to face you. 

"Hi."

"Hey, looking good."

"You too, cowboy."

You’re pretty certain Chad’s never looked bad a day in his life. There’s a reason why he’s the most popular player on the team, and one of the most sought-after guys at Blackmore. Well…several, starting with the fact that his hotness is only matched by his unwavering kindness to everybody he meets. 

You suppose if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d harbor a crush on him too. But you’re too familiar with Chad to see him in that light. You still recall when he insisted on wearing a Pokemon onesie for nearly a year. You used to watch cartoons with him and Mindy as children, play together. He’s even tried to get you into Magic: The Gathering at some point but you couldn’t understand how the game works so he gave up. He’s like the brother you never had. 

"So I hear you've met Ethan. He's cool, right?" He throws his muscular arm around Ethan’s neck affectionately. "A whole snack he is. Look at him." An endearing tinge of red decorates Ethan’s cheeks, his gaze fleeing yours. 

It draws a smile from you. You’re glad they’re getting along. 

You tilt your head, gauging his appearance. Confusion fills you.

You’re not exactly sure what Ethan’s costume is supposed to be. A knight perhaps? Either way, it’s original and it suits him.

"Hey again," you greet. 

He lifts two bashful fingers as a response, returning your smile.

"Yeah. I appreciate him helping me out."

Ethan’s chestnut gaze widens at your words. 

College’s busy enough for everyone. It’s incredible of him to offer some of his free time to help you out when it doesn’t benefit him in any way. 

Ethan opens his mouth as if he were about to say something but, before he can speak, someone taps you on the shoulder, beckoning your attention. 

You pivot in your high heels.

Your chest floods with warmth at the sight welcoming you. 

"Hey, gorgeous," Connor hums, giving you an appreciative onceover that turns your legs into jelly. His voice lowers as he approaches you. "I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"

Your heart skips a beat at his closeness, the scent of his masculine cologne and his mesmerizing blue eyes overwhelming you. 

"Just ran a bit late," you mumble. 

His hooded gaze takes you in as he suggests, "Well, you’re here now. Wanna go hang out in my car?"

Pursing your mouth, you hesitate. 

"I…I don’t know. Is that safe? Mindy says it’s always best to stay in crowded-"

He halts your explanation with a hand under your chin. Bewildered, you gawk at him. 

His pearly whites shimmer in the dusky blue and green hues saturating the room. 

"Do you trust me, gorgeous?"

You blink up at him, dazed and lost in the sea of his gaze. 

"Y-Yes, I do."

"I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Come on."

His hand engulfs yours as Connor begins to drag you toward the exit.

Chad’s deep, concerned voice interrupts the abrupt getaway. 

"Are you sure?" His forehead creases as he inches closer. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that, right?" 

At first, you’re a bit confused. 

Then you remind yourself he’s just being protective. Both he and Mindy share that trait. In fact, her attentive eyes carve a searing dent in your skin from the other side of the room. 

Usually, you adore that about them, how caring they are. But right now, you find it a bit much. 

Connor isn’t a threat. He’s just the guy you like, not a serial killer. 

You place a placating hand on Chad’s arm. 

"It’s fine. I trust him. Catch you later, okay?"

He gives a belated nod, his jaw clenching as he stares Connor down, before letting you walk away. 

You wave Ethan goodbye but are somewhat dejected when he stares at you and doesn’t reply, his blank expression unreadable.

Both you and Connor step outside. 

Moonlight bathes the damp pavement in silvery light as you trail behind him. 

He wastes no time once you’ve reached his expensive sports car, pinning you against the hood and kissing you senseless. 

"Fuck, been dying to do this ever since I saw you in that slutty costume," he purrs against your temple. His hands begin to roam over you, impatient fingers fondling your curves. 

When he sneaks under your short dress and tugs at the waistband of your panties, you push against his chest. 

A sudden tide of discomfort swells inside you. 

"Connor…wait. This is going a little fast for me," you giggle.

Ignoring your protests, he keeps kissing you and even turns things up a notch by grabbing a fistful of your ass. You gasp. 

"Just relax. I won’t hurt you, gorgeous."

His weight presses against you, a sizzling cage of need you can’t escape. Tears prick at your eyes. 

"Connor, please…" you whimper.

Annoyance ripples in his tone as the grip on your rear gets firmer. 

"How you’re gonna be a fucking cocktease then give me blue balls, come on, gorgeous."

His tone is light but your chest is heavy. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You hoped Connor would be gentle and nice. 

This isn’t nice. 

And you’re starting to feel a little scared. As the taut bulge in his crotch rubs at your front, your stomach knots.

But things don’t get to wander any further.

In fact, they hit a sudden stop as Connor stills against you. Your brows knit. 

As he chokes on his own breath, blood gushes from his mouth, painting the front of your costume crimson. 

Your eyes widen as his head lolls before he slumps to the pavement with a heavy thud. 

Time stands still when your gaze lifts. 

Your heart slams against your ribcage.

A tall figure clad in black and donning a Ghostface mask is now standing before you.

The blood rushing in your veins makes your ears ring.

The stranger cocks his head, studying you for a few seconds before pouncing on Connor’s prone form like a starved hyena. 

Horror-struck, you gawk as the stranger rains vicious stab after vicious stab upon Connor's writhing body. Each strike draws a shudder from you, more violent than the last and causing scarlet rivers to flow from every part of Connor. 

The world becomes red. 

A scream bubbles in your throat but remains trapped in it, shock striking you mute. 

When Connor's body stops moving, the sickening squish of the blade twisting out of his mangled flesh reaches you. 

With the knife in his hand still dripping blood, its crimson hue catching the moonlight, the killer rises to his feet. 

His focus travels to you. Your insides coil, deadly anticipation gripping you as tight as a fist. 

A gravelly, distorted voice rises beneath the mask. 

"This is the part where you run, princess."

Right…

It’s what happens in those horror movies Mindy had you watch with her, you think. The characters run away, fighting whatever’s chasing them with all their might. 

It’s the sensible thing to do. 

And you want to move. You should move. But you can't. 

Even breathing is toilsome, stilted whimpers and gasps spilling from your chest instead. 

All you can do is peer into the pupil-less gaze of the mask as you crumble into a quivering, sobbing heap onto the pavement. 

The killer inches closer and it's as if your heart jumps out of your chest. 

His blade kisses the trembling flesh of your throat, right above your racing pulse. 

Languid tears roll down your face as he traces your jugular. 

Cool metal slices past your collarbone, to your rapidly heaving chest. 

The song of the night yields to the symphony of fear echoing in your ears. Every scattered heartbeat. Every uneven breath. Every desperate sob.

A sharp stinging blooms in your delicate flesh as he carves oblong patterns on your breast with his knife. 

His motions are slow and focused, as if your skin’s the canvas and his blade the brush. 

Paralyzed, you don’t move. His cloaked figure bends and blurs in your misty vision, more monster than man in the scarce light provided by the street lamps.

He slants his head when he’s done, admiring his handiwork. 

This must be it, you infer, the moment all of it ends. 

Your eyes quake shut as you wait for the inevitable blow. 

You wait… An eternity it seems. 

For the blood. For the agony. For the darkness. 

Yet nothing comes. 

When you open your eyes, Ghostface is gone, the only nightmarish vision before you being that of Connor's body lying unmoving on the pavement. 

You pay no attention to the chaos around you as you pull the thin blanket closer to your frame.

The lights of the ambulance twinkle in your hazy sight. 

Amidst the chatter of shocked students standing in the street behind the yellow tape, the whispers of reassurance of Mindy and Tara fade to white noise in your ears. 

Numb, you gawk as they drag Connor’s body away on a gurney.

For some silly reason, you keep expecting him to rise again, to not be dead.

Because this cannot be real.

This cannot have happened. 

The police ask you a barrage of questions and you give mechanical answers. None of them help and they grow frustrated with you, sparking a heated argument between your friends and the stubborn cop. 

"I’m just doing my job," he insists, raising his hands when Chad gets in his face.

If it weren’t for Detective Bailey vouching for you, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a patrol car right now. 

"Can’t you see the kid’s traumatized. She doesn’t know anything," he berates one his co-worker who seemed unwilling to accept your version of events. 

The one where you froze and Ghostface somehow let you live with only a strangely shaped scar on your chest as a souvenir. The one the medic commented looked a little like a heart. 

Absently, you pat the gauze covering the healing wound. 

It's weird…but it hurts your head to ponder why this occurred. The only emotion you can process is the crippling guilt consuming you. 

You’re alive while Connor's cold body is on its way to the morgue.

Your friends gather around you, their warmth chasing away the night’s chill. While Tara and Mindy sit next to you on the pavement, Chad stands protectively in front of you. 

"I-I didn’t do anything, Tara. I just let him…" Your voice cracks, withering into a sob. 

The arm around your shoulder gets tighter.

"Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault," she feverishly responds.

You open your mouth to argue but close it once it dawns on you that all the energy’s been drained from your body. There is none left in you.

Still, you can’t help but disagree. If it were Tara, her sister, or even Mindy, you bet they’d have fought tooth and nail instead of shrinking and crying like you did. 

You’re the weak link in your group. Not smart enough, or strong enough. 

The thought makes you sob harder. 

Mindy rubs circles on your back. 

You cast a quick glance around before your tearful gaze finds hers. 

"Where’s Anika?"

"She went home. She’s not great with blood. She sends her love though."

You nod at that. If you could, you’d be home too, hugging your stuffed bear and trying your best to forget this awful night ever happened. 

Chad’s irate tone startles you out of your fog. 

"Speaking of people not being here… where the hell is Ethan?" 

You blink up at him, confused as he and Mindy trade a pointed, heavy look.

You don’t get it. 

Sure, Ethan’s new to the group, and the twins are slow to give their trust. You know that. But Ethan? He’s entirely too sweet and kind to have anything to do with this…Right?

Ethan wouldn’t. You’re sure of it. 

~

#ethan landry #dark!ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x bimbo!reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #scream vi #scream

[colourstreakgryffin]

hi! Please ignore this request if you don't want to do it/your request are closed.

Do you think you could do a part 2 to hells angel? Or at least like more bonding moments between the two Im in love with father alastor sm 😭🙏

It’s not closed! It’s open, wide open and yes, I’ll happily write more for Papa Alastor! I’ll happily continue the little saga of Papa Alastor and his little fawn! Kinda short but I hope that’s okay!

Alastor- Shopping Trip

“Is this one something you’d like, Princess?” Alastor asks gently, his voice both menacing because of the radio effect and soothing because of the genuine love pouring out uncontrollably, as he draws down an adorable puffy old-fashioned but colourful little dress, long sharp fingers snapped on the small silky shoulder straps slightly. A outfit just the right size for a young girl

Specifically, his little girl. Leitora, a unique deer-featured soul born from pure powerful demonic magic. The one now forming his own soul and heart, he is so glad birthing the little devil darling was successful

His precious baby daughter, a seven year old with matching little deer ears and crimson red gradient in her pretty long hair. She has been waiting a long time to be able to spend time with her father and now, Alastor has taken the whole day off from duties at the Hazbin Hotel, to spend it exploring a wild wondering sinner-filled shopping institution with his babygirl

“Yes, Père! I love it!” You immediately pipe out soft yet eccentric back, excited and hopping right in front of the Radio Demon as he quickly hooks this little clothing present onto the size-appropriate hanger it was originally left on and hands it to you without another word. He currently has a few more shopping bags over his left forearm and an another much bigger shopping bag over his right shoulder as well as your needed travel supplies in a cute old fashioned pastel schoolbag over both of his shoulders

Your father doesn’t mind carrying everything nor does he mind overspending. After all

This is a father-daughter all-day shopping trip

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. A pretty clothing store, full of women’s to men’s to children’s fashion. The fifth store you’ve gone in with Alastor since the pair of you woke up early in the morning and headed over to the biggest mall in the Pride Ring, the mall both of you stand in at this very moment. He has been needing to get you some new clothing for a while now so being able to get your opinion on the cute dresses, tights, accessorises, pyjamas and much more he picks out for you is simply perfect

Alastor has truly missed being able to spend time with you, even if it includes milking his credit card. You’re worth far more than all the wealth he’s stolen and gathered

Taking your hand with a lean down, Alastor waits patiently for you to take his offer as you quickly readjust the clothing store hanger holding up your cute little present. Moving that hanger from both hands to your wrist, you reach up and immediately grab his much bigger hand. Two to three fingers are enough to hold your whole hand, the size difference is simply precious

“Père! Père! Look! Look!” Speaking with a adorable little French accent upon pointing out and chiming excitedly in fluent French, Alastor’s crimson red eyes sharply fling away from the cute rows of female children’s clothing to the single rack of children’s hair accessorises to jewellery. The reason you pointed it out, only seconds after taking your beloved father’s hand was because you noticed something really pretty you wanted your father to see

“What is it, Princess?” Alastor lets you drag him over to the colourful rack, his own eyes wondering around with tall fluffy deer-like ears flicking a bit as if an instinctive twitch. You still have the dress your father handed to you and you reach up as a sign for Alastor to help you. Following your little cute pale fingers, the Overlord picks out a set retro pearl tassel hairpins. Something he never thought you’d like but it may fit with your red hair

He isn’t sure if he wants the metal touching your skull however, so he holds the white cardboard support holding the hairpins still, just scanning over them a bit firmly and if not protective over you

Until your voice breaks him out of his intense thought. His ears shooting up in shock as your own ears draw back slightly, not necessarily concerned but wondering why just a pair of cute accessorises would possibly make him fall so deep into a thinking trance

“Père… What’s wrong?” You’re now the one asking your father to speak to you with big sparkly eyes looking up at him, he takes a few seconds of his head shaking in slight disorientation before he finally gets back to his senses and speaks out his opinion, uncertain but yet uncertain if he wants to reject you

Alastor is not good at saying no to you, he’s good at giving out needed discipline and can be rather strict about specific things but when it comes to mundane things like a pair of mere hairpins, he doesn’t like to say no

What can be said? Alastor is the type of father to spoil his daughter absolutely rotten

“Princess… are you sure you want this one specifically?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel radio demon #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel characters #vivziepop hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #platonic alastor #platonic alastor x reader #father alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #father alastor x reader #radio demon x reader #radio demon #hazbin hotel short story #hazbin short story #father-daughter moments #Al’s a decent daddy #father short story #parent au

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Kinktober Day 6: Cockbulge

Pairings: Inui x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Inui, sorcerer!Inui, size difference, teratophilia, overstimulation, mind-breaking, dacryphilia, blood from neck biting briefly

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This ended up being very different from my original concept (and also way longer than intended) but I hope you enjoy what it turned out to be! :D

Keep an eye out for this AU in a future kinktober installment 🤫

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Inui was well aware of the dangers that this particular ritual held. Sure, any summoning ritual could go awry and become trouble quickly, but this spell was especially fickle. One tiny mistake or missed detail and he could summon something unwanted, possibly some eldritch creature that would destroy every known universe, but to him, the risks were worth it

He had spent so much time meticulously studying the circle that he'd need to draw, which materials you needed to place around said circle, offerings you were supposed to make, and even studying another language to learn how to pronounce the incantation correctly. Everything should be fine, it would all go perfectly and he would get what he wanted with no problems...

...He said to himself, sweating profusely as his arms carrying the backpack full of spellcasting materials trembled... Nevertheless, he marched onwards, deeper into the dark forest where you were supposed to carry out the ritual

Inui found the spot that he needed, a small clearing in the woods where the grass was noticeably softer and the breeze seemed calmer, where the only red flowers grew within the entire forest. This was where he began prepping for the ritual, casting the intricate circle with dried herbs, flowers, and crystals. Fixing several candles around the pattern and lighting them before stepping away to pull out his book of incantations, reading over the lines and practicing in his head. He waited about an hour, just as the instructions mentioned, before standing up and facing the circle. Taking a deep breath, he began the chant, repeating it three times as he walked around the summoning circle

He then put his book away and returned to the circle, stripping off his robes before laying down in the center, announcing his offering to the demon, “In return for your arrival and services, I have brought an offering of... myself. My flesh, my mind, and my soul are yours to do with as you please. Now, come forth!”

Tonight, Inui was uncharacteristically impatient. Normally he had no problems waiting for summoned creatures to appear, or waiting for spells to take effect. Tonight's spell, however, was very special. The being that he was desperately attempting to summon was a demon of lust, not an incubus or succubus, mind you. This was supposed to be leagues above those kinds of demons. And He was rumored to only appear before men that He found exceptionally attractive, which is what made this ritual difficult to find. Most of the sorcerers that committed to this summoning had no results, the demon refusing to come forth for anyone within the last 300 years, give or take...

Many people regarded this spell as nothing more than a hoax, claiming that it had probably become lost in translation somewhere and that was the reason it never worked. Some of the world's most handsome and skilled sorcerers attempted the summoning with no luck, so the magical realms deemed the spell to be fraudulent, because who wouldn't find these men attractive? That's what they all said, anyways. But Inui was tempted by the promises that this spell makes. Promises of "pleasure unlike anything this Earth could ever provide." And, "A love that no other could provide." These were loose translations of course, but Inui was tempted nonetheless. Hoping that if he was the one to finally summon the demon after all of these years, the other sorcerers would have to acknowledge his work, no longer able to poke fun at him or disregard his magic

He had other motivations for this summoning as well. The prospect of demon sex was very tempting...and since it was this demon's specialty, why not dedicate an entire year to studying the ancient books to bring this fantasy to life?

-

Inui's mind wandered as he awaited the creature's arrival. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze glide through his hair and brush against his bare skin, his mind conjuring up scenes of what he imagined the demon would do to him. If it has claws, would it use those to scratch his delicate skin, drawing blood and licking it up with it's long tongue? If it has sharp teeth, surely it would sink them into Inui's tender flesh, marking him as it's human toy. And what about it's size, surely the demon would want to shove it's monster cock deep inside of him?

Inui began to squirm, his skin felt impossibly hot, as if he was on fire. His back arched as a single moan slipped out of him, rubbing his thighs together as his cock began hardening from the lewd thoughts. Suddenly, his hips burned, not in a painful way though, in a way that caused him to moan out once again

“My, aren't you an adorable little thing~ ” A low voice purred into Inui's ear, impossibly hot breath hitting his neck as a shiver crawled up his spine. His eyes snapped open to find a large creature hovering over his body, it's hands firmly gripping his hips and haunting yellow eyes boring into his, visibly glowing in the darkness of the forest

Inui wanted to say something, but the words died in the back of his throat, only able to gasp and pant as the demon loomed over his comparably small frame. “What's wrong, little one? Too stunned to speak?” A small noise escaped from Inui involuntarily, unable to process that this was actually happening. “Oh, darling, I hope you're not afraid of me now?”

Inui shook his head, not wanting the demon to leave him. “Good, good. ” It chuckled, brushing it's slender fingers against his cheek, trailing it's touch down the human's neck, smiling when Inui arched his back again, squeaking out some cute response and tilting his head up to expose his neck further

-

You slowly licked your lips, leaning down and grazing your sharp fangs against Inui's sensitive flesh, causing him to flinch and gasp. Gently kissing his neck, your hands traveling to his stomach and trailing your fingers downwards, stopping at the base of his dick. Inui whined in response, raising his hips up a bit to chase the addictive touch. Desperately wishing you would wrap those hands around his cock and–

“Already excited, are we?” Purring, you tapped his fully erect cock, eliciting a tiny noise from Inui. “Such a horny little thing, I haven't even touched it yet. Are you desperate for this kind of attention, sweet thing? Is that why you summoned me? ” You teased, baring your fangs and growling, just as hungry with lust as the sorcerer was. Depraved from worthy offerings for centuries now

“Take m-me...please...” Inui whispered. Spreading his thighs for you. You cocked an eyebrow at the request, the sorcerer's tone was meek, but you could sense the sincerity behind his words. Humming, you brushed a hand through Inui's hair, and he leaned into the touch, looking up at you through pretty blond lashes

“This is what you want, human? Once we start, I will not stop until you are marked with my seal. Are you certain that you can handle this? ”

Inui swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before his answer, “Yes. I want this, I want y-you...all of you. ” This greatly pleased you, a toothy smile spreading across your face as your slender tail swished from behind

“Very good~ Then let us begin, cutie~ ” You positioned yourself so that your face was hovering over Inui's cock, using your long, forked tongue to wet the member while your hands held the human's thighs apart. Inui moaned loudly when you swallowed his entire length at once, your mouth now flush with his pelvis. He instinctually grabbed your hair, tightening his fist as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on the tip harshly. Teeth grazing against the bottom of his cock and causing Inui to keen, throwing his head back against the ground and letting out a high-pitched moan

Precum hit the back of your throat, coating your tongue and drawing out a moan when you tasted the familiar salty flavour. You couldn't help but moan around Inui's thick cock, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch inside of your mouth. Which only egged you on more, now bobbing your head faster, wrapping your long tongue around his shaft. Inui was losing his mind, vision blurry as it felt like he was getting a handjob and a blowjob at the same time

He cried out your name, his back arching impossibly high off of the ground, “G-gonna– Aaahhh—!!! ” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the sorcerer's load poured down your throat, greedily swallowing every last drop. You slowly let his cock slide out of your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop sound, tongue lolling out and a bit of cum sticking to it

Already spent, Inui panted heavily. But you were far from finished with this new toy, licking your lips and immediately sticking your tongue into the human's hole, eliciting a scream from him. “Oh– Oooohh fffuuuck~ ”

You continued to lick and slurp Inui's ass, working your tongue deeper inside of him and shoving it against his prostate, making him shout out broken moans. Sobbing as his ass was stretched just from that thick tongue

Retracting your tongue, you quickly replaced the wet muscle with two fingers, pumping them in and out of Inui's wet hole. His head felt fuzzy again as his ass was stretched further, it already felt as if he was at his limit, his arm draped over his eyes and chest heaving. You wrapped your other hand around Inui's dick, giving it a few pumps before rubbing over his slit with your thumb. The poor human hissed, biting his lip and clawing at your arms, his dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm

This did not deter you, however. If anything it only made you move faster and push your fingers in deeper, once again hitting Inui's prostate and leaving your fingers pressed against it. Ripping yet another orgasm out of him as your hand milked more cum from his cock, the thick fluid leaking all down your fingers

Inui slumped against the ground, almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. With his strength rapidly leaving him, his hands fell onto the ground, releasing their grip on your large arms. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of Inui's chest, cooing sweet praises into your human's ear. “You're doing so well, sweetie. Releasing all of this lovely fluid just for me~” Inui could feel the rumbling in your chest as you spoke, voice low and gravelly. “But we're just getting started~ ”

Inui's eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that this would require way more stamina than usual, human sex. What he did not expect was how every single touch from your clawed, calloused hands seemed to drain that stamina immediately and light every last nerve on fire at the same time. It was as if your touch injected him with lust, keeping him constantly horny enough to keep going even if he could no longer hold himself up

The familiar sound of clothing hitting the ground brought his attention back to you, having just removed your trousers. Which allowed your cock to spring free of it's constraints. Inui's mind appeared to go blank at the sight, drool falling from the corners of his mouth as he stared at your fully erect length. Most humans would say something along the lines of, “No way in hell is that thing going to fit!” But Inui Seishu was not most humans. Inui was, to put it crudely, a cockslut and a size king. Always craving the things that would stretch him open enough to shut off his mind, only able to moan and take inch after inch deeper into his body

These thoughts were not unknown to you, as every last kink and preference became known as soon as they laid down in the enchanted circle. Which is exactly why you chose him. Inui would be capable of taking everything that you could give him; he craved an experience such as this one, and you were more than happy to give it to him

As if your body had its own gravitational force, Inui inches closer towards it, beckoning you to slide into his tight hole. So you grabbed his waist, impossibly tiny within your grasp, and lined your demonic dick up with his ass. He gulped, glassy eyes trained on your cock as the tip disappeared inside of him, the stretch already burning in the most delicious way

“Shh, breathe for me, lovely. There's still so much more that needs to go in.” Those soothing words echoed in Inui's mind as another inch slid past that ring of muscles. His eyes rolling into the back of his head and mouth falling open in a silent moan. You soothed the human as best as you could, sliding in further and further until your dick had disappeared entirely. “Ooohh fuuucckk yeeesss~ ” You hissed, panting as his tight walls convulsed around your cock, his hips jerking upwards as cum painted his chest white

A devilish grin spread across your face, slowly thrusting into Inui's twitching body. He came just from feeling you bottom out inside of him. Such a good little pet for you.

A familiar tightening in your core caused you to speed up, chasing your first release of the night while your human was already on his third. Yet, you could sense the passion inside of him, he craved more. And more is exactly what you would give him. Slamming your hips against his roughly, you growled praises against Inui's neck, nipping him with your fangs and flooding his insides with searing hot cum

Still partially recovering from his earlier orgasm, Inui arched his back high off of the ground, wailing as you fucked him and filled him. His body going completely limp in your hands, breathing erratically and making the cutest fucked out noises

You took a second to catch your breath and revel in the sight before you. There was a large bulge in Inui's stomach where he was stretched around your cock, his insides pushed aside to make room for the impossibly large intrusion. His blond hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his skin from the intensity of it all. Your hand brushed some of the wet hair away, nails scratching against his scalp and pulling a soft whine from him

You couldn't stop the smile growing on your features, it'd been far too long since you had felt this way towards a human. Especially one that intentionally offered himself unto you like this one did. Hungry lips met Inui's soft ones, moving together harmoniously as your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this moment before you gave him another orgasm

Inui moaned into the kiss when he felt your fingers brush against his nipples, playing with them so you could hear more pretty noises from your sweet human, humping into his wet hole as you did so. Inui gasped as your hips snapped into him harshly, pinching his nipples simultaneously. Your thrusts began to speed up again, causing him to throw his head back in total bliss, fucking him at just the right pace

The temptation to mark your cute pet up was far too strong, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his sensitive neck. Nibbling on the soft flesh as you fucked your previous load deep into his gut, thrusting faster and faster so that you could add more cum to the mess already within his walls, making the bulge in his stomach even larger. Inui whined loudly, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging at the roots, begging for you to cum in him again, “Please– Ah!! More...cum in me more... Fill me with your cock until I can't think of anything else– F-fuuck—!! ”

Cum flooded his insides once again, dick twitching as his gummy walls squeezed it all out of you, your hips surely hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise later on. Blood trickled down Inui's neck as your fangs pierced his delicate skin. Tears ran down his cheeks from the combined intensity of everything

Inui's dick became hard yet again, still glistening from his previous orgasms. “Sweet thing, will you cum with me this time? ” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his length. Slowly pumping it as you peered into his gorgeous green eyes. “Just give me one more, then you can rest. Can you do that, darling? ” Inui nodded languidly, his hips rolling into your fist on their own

You smiled at him in response, taking a deep breath before thrusting into him again. The reaction from him was immediate; his hips jerked forward, head turning to the side as a loud moan erupted from him, hands grasping at your wrist that was gliding up and down his member. But you continued on, cock reaching the deepest places inside of him, rearranging his guts completely as his body molded to your length

Inui clenched around your dick, his fourth climax just within reach, crying out your name while your thrusting became sloppy. One hand continued to jerk him off, twisting your wrist as you stroked upwards and eliciting high-pitched screams from him, while your other hand rubbed at the bulge in his stomach. Effectively jerking yourself off through his body, almost using him as a fleshlight

The way his mind just shut off was instantly noticeable. Inui's eyes became vacant, unable to look away from your lustful gaze. Little “Ah! Ah! Ah! ” noises escaping him with each rhythmic thrust, no longer capable of forming words as he becomes your dumb little doll. Arms and legs completely limp, the only thing really moving is his hips as they thrust into your hand, chasing yet another orgasm even though his mind is unresponsive to the overstimulation

“I really did fuck you stupid, didn't I, little one?” No response, unless you count the slightest change in the pitch of the human's moans as anything. “So good for me. Mm, cum with me now, let us complete this pact~ ”

With that, you fucked into Inui roughly, snapping your hips into his and vigorously pumping his cock. Biting your bottom lip as you grow closer to your release and finally cumming within Inui's tight ass as he squeezes you once more, his own release following only a second behind yours. His body twitched and writhed under your grasp as a glowing red seal was burned onto his stomach, the large mark spanning from just above his bellybutton to right above the base of his dick. The same mark as your summoning circle, a mark of ownership. Telling all manner of demons and other creatures that this one belongs to you

Caressing the newly etched seal, a wave of possessiveness washed over your features for a moment. Your darling human was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taking over after so much excitement. His soft features became illuminated by the moonlight and you couldn't help but smile fondly

You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, so as not to hurt him or rouse him from slumber. Soothing your hands over his body and kissing his pale cheek before lying down next to his side. You pulled him against your chest and spooned his small body, wrapping your tail around his leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you whispered a few more praises and loving words into Inui's ear before drifting off with him

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Tagging: @anxious-chick @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

#my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #inui seishu #sub inupi #sub inui #male reader #dom reader #top reader #inui x reader #terato #sorcerer au #oneshot

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

GoGo Dancer

Pairing- OPLA!Sanji x reader

Summary- After a hard day Sanji goes to see his favorite dancer.

Warnings- afab reader, oral (fem receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, orgasm denial (once), hints that this has happened before, hints that Sanji ignores reader 🙄 that should be it

a/n- if you hate it move on peace and love 🫰🏼

Sanji just couldn’t help himself, relishing in your beauty knowing the only reason you use it is to get money. Your hips moved along with the beat song as your body shined on stage demanding all eyes in you, no less.

Zeff had thrown him from the line for making an absolutely delectable dish that, in Zeefs own words; “A waste of good quality.” So after he was done bussing tables he came to his favorite bar to relieve some stress, to his favorite gogo dancer.

Your eyes scan the room, unable to miss Sanji’s predatory orbs starting you down as your threw your ass around hounds of men whistling up at you. After the song was over, and a minute past closing you left the stage. The men in the audience yell profanity after profanity and other drunken nonsense as you walk off stage. Once you were out of sight Sanji stood from his table quickly taking quick almost robotic steps to your dressing room.

He tightens his tie gripping the door knob and opens the door to find you waiting in front of the makeup vanity that illuminates your features. The ruby red lipstick enunciates your plum lips, mascara and eyeliner drawing attention to your gorgeous eyes, and a blush that adores your skin tone. Oh, how he couldn’t wait to ruin it.

He steps in completely, closing the door behind him. You stare at each other through the mirror. “So,” you begin. “What’d Zeff say this time?” You ask him, taking your styled hair down in the process. He ignores your passive aggression, “Same as always.” He replies toying with one of your golden nicknack probably gifted by a pirate or some such trying to seduce you with the promise of gold, love, pleasure. But Sanji knows the only thing you need for pleasure is right in the kitchen at Baratie.

He puts it down, sauntering over to you, grabbing hold to your neck, he makes you look up at him. You keep your face motionless. “Missed you.” He tipped his head to the side, blonde hair moving along with it. He pulled you a little by the throat, slouching a little as well. Your fingers lay nimbly on his hand making no attempt to move him though. Connecting your lips he kissed you passionately, lips dancing in wild motion, lipstick smearing on his and your mouth. He pulled away leaving you breathless.

The sides of your mouth tip up into a sly smile, “Sure ya’ did.” You reply, tapping your polished nails against his hand. “Want me to prove it to you?” His smirk is almost identical to yours, turning you around in your chair. He strokes your cheek moving a fly away from your face, he gets down on his knees, now at your level. He moves his finger down your skin, over the revealing outfit, across your hip and lap, hand massaging your inner thigh.

Subconsciously, you want to peel your thighs for him letting him do his magic. But, nonetheless he has to pay retribution. Being denied attention when he thinks he deserves it, a taste of his own medicine. “I know, I know.” He rubs your thigh, “I’ve been neglectful, I know it hurts your feelings, but let me prove it to you.” He repeats his earlier statement, truth be told Sanji did hold feelings for you, very strong feelings in fact.

You contemplate for a minute but it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had a really good orgasm, and Sanji makes you a weak woman with his looks and words of persuasion. Your legs spread for him, his smirk spreads into an appease smile. He grips one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder he pulls you by the hips closer to the edge of the chair.

You only had the small pearl white slacks that barely covered your bottom and panties to hide you from him. He slowly, excruciatingly slow that you could feel you arousal drip. He hooks two fingers between your underwear and leotard pulling them out of the way together. Once moved he stops eyeing your pretty pussy.

Your wetness glistened in the light, his mouth watered needing to taste you. Yanking you closer he looks you directly into the eyes as he suckles against your clit. Every never ending feeling electrical, licking strips up and down your aching cunt he could feel you mostien against his tongue.

Out of all the things Sanji has made or tried in his entire life he believes you are the most desirable, delicious, most succulent thing that this world has to offer.

He let go of one of the thighs he held down and he moved back to your clit mouth wrapping back around it. He brought two fingers to your awaiting hole, slipping both in and you suck him in greedily. He thrusted them in quickly and gently, his long fingers hitting every single sweet spot. The noises coming from you were unspeakable as his tongue moved gracefully against your flesh, your body felt like it could explode, your eyes scrunch closed, jaw tightening as you felt the coils of pleasure build, and build, and build. He knew you were close, so fucking close.

But, then he stopped.

Why’d he stop?

You open your eyes, frustration and annoyance painted all over it. Before you could say or complain he moves you from the chair, standing up straight kicking the chair out of the way. “What are you doin—“ you can’t even finish your sentence before he has pushed you harshly on the vanity, the few things decorating it falling to the floor. He held the side of your neck shutting you up with a rough kiss, he unbuttoned his slacks pushing them down along with his boxers.

Pushing you head against the mirror elongating the kiss, straining your lungs, he guides his cock to your begging cunt, sliding the tip over your pussy up and down, over and over again. Crying out for him to fuck you he finally slips his tip in. Teasingly he slides in at an antagonizing pace when you try to squirm or wiggle your hips he slams a strong hand down keeping you in place. Once he’s settled all the way in, tip kissing your cervix.

He pulls out almost all the way, his entire cock shining with your wet.

Thrusting back in swiftly he brings your hips down to meet him. A shocked but approving gasp comes from you as he continues to drill into you. Fucking up into you all while he makes your hips fuck him. Pleasure takes you in again, like overcoming waves in a black ocean. Pulling the thin fabric of the tight, white bra-like shirt from over your tits exposing your hardened nipples. Sanji grunts, cock twitching inside your pulsating walls that suck him in with every pull.

Pushing your legs apart farther his duck pushes deeper pulling a whole new sensation out of you. Legs wrapping around his waist bringing him closer, needing to feel his hot body in you. It felt as if you and Sanji held the same breath, the same heartbeat and you couldn't help but relish in it head tipping back as you tried to move your hips along with his merciless thrusts.

Your clit moved along his pelvis friction burning through you. He lets go of your lower body, cradling your face he pulls you into a passion filled kiss, thrust moving quicker, faster, tongues flicking togetherjn a ecstacy induced haze.

And just like that you explode.

Back arching into his chest. Gasping against his lips, thighs trying their best to stay open. Your lungs constrict, walls clamping down, it was nearly impossible for Sanji not to cum right then and there. Your nerves shake in pure, raw pleasure.

A few more sloppy thrust and Sanji couldn’t hold any longer letting go of his heavy load. His vision burned bright and his hold was surely bruising. He rode his climax down, he held you still for a moment, both of you catching your breath.

After you both had your clothes back on you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he headed out. It’s a repeat of both of you scared of rejection but too addicted to leave.

#sanji #opla sanji #op live action #opla x reader #opla #one piece #one piece live action #one piece sanji #sanji op #op sanji #sanji one piece #sanji x you #sanjionepiece #sanji x y/n #sanji smut #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji vinsmoke x you #vinsmoke sanji x y/n #op smut #opla smut

[chimaerakitten]

I’ve been thinking today about off ramps in long running stories, especially book series.

By that I mean like, places where a person could stop reading and have a satisfying ending even if they’re not yet at the actual ending. (Someone tell me if there’s an established Tvtropes name for this I’m missing.)

Now, a lot of book series will have an off ramp at the end of book 1, because many first books are written without promise of a sequel. Like sure, there might be a sequel hook, but the actual second book is still up to publisher whims in most cases. So you can read All Systems Red or The Thief or A Madness of Angels and have a perfectly satisfying ambiguous-end sci-fi story or middle grade fantasy romp or inverted murder mystery revenge quest without ever picking up book 2. This is definitely an off ramp but it’s not necessarily the interesting or revealing kind because again. Whims of the publisher.

There’s also stories that have an off ramp after every installment. Leverage is famous for this—they had a philosophy of having every season be a satisfying ending, which says a lot both about the writers and about the story they were trying to tell.

But I think the most interesting ramps are the ones where by design or by circumstance, there’s a single off-ramp somewhere in the middle. One spot where unless someone tells you there’s more, you’d never be unsatisfied with leaving halfway through.

Sometimes these will be signaled in some way, where there’s a big timeskip after the off-ramp, or the series changes names or has a spin-off, or the POV changes, or after book 3 the author publishes a short story collection before hopping back in to novels, or the series suddenly jumps from being only novellas to a chunky 120k novel. (The Raksura books, Percy Jackson/HoE, Matthew Swift/Magicals Anonymous, and Murderbot all do one or more of these)

But sometimes off ramps aren’t visible in series order or marketing. Sometimes they’re organic to where a story happens to leave off at the end of an installment.

The queen’s thief has one of these after King Of Attolia. I know this was a satisfying ending because for seven years I thought it was the end. My local library didn’t have A Conspiracy of Kings, so I thought it was a trilogy. And you really can leave it there! KoA ends with Gen back in his element and recognized as king, the main internal threat to Irene neutralized, and peace on the peninsula. The Mede aren’t yet the immediate threat they are in the back half of the series, since up through KoA they’re mainly represented by the magus’s vague warnings and Nahuseresh, whom Irene thinks circles around. There’s no real reason to assume the Mede are a threat within the scope of the series. Now I absolutely prefer getting the whole story, but KoA is a damn solid off-ramp for anyone who feels like exiting there.

And that’s one kind of off ramp where the end you get is pretty similar in tone (mostly happy) to the one you get if you go on to the rest of the series. I’ve also read books where you can off ramp successfully right at the lowest point in the series and get a tragedy out of a series that ultimately ends happy, or leave at a high point and get a happier end than the main one, or exit at an ambiguous point and continue on with ambiguity. The Giver sequels make it pretty clear what happened to Jonas and Gabe at the end of the book. but you don’t have to read them or have that question answered if you want to.

I don’t have a really solid conclusion to draw here except that I think the positioning of off ramps says a lot about authors and stories, and choosing whether or not to take an off ramp says a lot about readers.

#I know multiple people who refuse to recognize the giver sequels #which has always been odd to me because I quite liked them and never thought Jonas died in the first place #meta #the queen’s thief #tqt #Murderbot #the kitten rambles #murderbot’s off ramp is after exit strategy if that wasn’t clear #Raksura’s is after siren depths #this post partially brought to you by #the realization that one can stop reading Temeraire at the end of book four #and get a tragedy where the horrors of empire cannot be stopped #and will crush anyone trying to change things

[loveissupernatural]

···

**read chapter one here** - **read chapter two here**

Morpheus/Dream x fem!reader

In Your Dreams

Chapter 3

“A heart without dreams is like a bird without feathers.”

-Suzy Kassem

You didn’t sleep for the rest of that night. You couldn’t. How could you when a being like that was trapped beneath your feet?

You still weren’t sure if you were frightened by him, or by how much you wanted to be near him.

You rolled onto your side for the millionth time, leaning up to punch your pillow again. You slammed your head back into the normally-comfortable fluff that, for whatever reason, felt hot and scratchy tonight. That ethereal man’s eyes flashed through your brain like a sight you barely caught out of a speeding car window. The sketch of the hauntingly beautiful face flitted through your mind’s eye.

A thin sheen of sweat had broken out on the back of your neck.

You climbed out of bed with a frustrated huff and took a warm shower, trying to wash the night’s events out of your head and off of your skin. By the time you shuffled out of your bathroom the light of dawn was beginning to peek through the foggy grounds. A bird began to chirp outside your bedroom windows.

You tried to doctor the dark circles forming beneath your eyes with a cool eye mask and some concealer, but they were there to stay. You hoped that your obvious exhaustion wouldn’t raise any suspicion with Alex or Paul—after all, how long could jetlag be a viable excuse?

To avoid Paul or Alex getting a good look at your tired eyes that morning, after you prepared their tea you volunteered to give the mansion a good, thorough cleaning. They seemed quite happy that you mentioned it, in fact.

“You’re a godsend, you are,” Paul whispered to you, putting both his and Alex’s teacups in the sink. “If I mistake another dust bunny for a mouse I think I may have a coronary.”

You chuckled as you opened the door to the closet adjacent to the kitchen that contained the cleaning supplies. “Just doing my job.”

While the house actually was in desperate need of another one of your cleaning sprees, you really just wanted an opportunity to go into every room and snoop—especially the library and its adjoining study. There had to be some forgotten book or neglected journal hiding in the crannies of this house that told you more about the man in that basement.

A physical therapist would be coming later in the morning to see to Mr. Burgess, and you knew that Paul was always present for those appointments. That would be the best time for you to look around in their bedroom, something you hadn’t yet had the opportunity to do.

You started in the library just in case you’d missed something in your previous excursions, but you came up emptyhanded. You organized the papers that were strewn across the burned desktop, keeping your eyes on the doorway to the study and your ears peeled for any approaching footsteps.

After giving every wooden corner a thorough rub with your dust rag, you gently pulled open the drawer that you knew housed the only thing of importance you had found. You gave the doorway another glance and pulled out the aging scroll. You spread it across the desk. As it always did, the sketch of the man’s face pulled your gaze. You gingerly stroked the drawing’s cheek with your finger, your chest tightening.

The parchment was covered in faded words, phrases, and chicken scratch that you were still unable to decipher. The crude sigils held no meaning for you. But your eyes settled on the word you first noticed when you originally found the paper.

Dream.

Did the powerful being encased in a prison of glass and magic below your feet have something to do with this word? After a moment, you returned the scroll to its home and ran upstairs to your room. You pulled out your laptop, plopped onto your bed, and waited for your home screen to come to life. When it came to the Burgess house, Google had always been your friend. It was time to see what you could find.

You pulled up the familiar search engine and typed in that fateful word.

Meaningless articles about the purpose of dreams and scientific studies on the subject were all you could find at first, so you searched for the phrase “dream man” instead. Artistic renderings of handsome men lined the top of the page, followed by dating site advertisements for finding the man of your dreams. You rolled your eyes.

You chewed your bottom lip.

Then, slowly, you typed “Roderick Burgess dream man” into your search bar.

Blogs on Roderick Burgess and Aleister Crowley appeared one by one, but you spotted a post that you weren’t familiar with. You clicked on it. The screen went black before pictures and blood red text began to emerge. The blog post was called “Roderick Burgess: Dream or Nightmare?”

The beginning of the post was filled with background information about the Burgesses and their mansion that you already knew and read a thousand times before. A few quotes followed from some of Roderick Burgess’s followers, claiming that they’d seen something unnatural in the home of their beloved leader but were unwilling to divulge more detail. The writer theorized what kinds of creatures Burgess could have trapped to cipher away their powers, including the devil. You groaned, having seen all of this before.

But then, the writer began a new thread.

            I come to you all with newly-acquired information from a former employee of Roderick Burgess’s only surviving son, Alex Burgess. This man claims to be a security guard that was hired to watch over the “entity” that resides within the dark bowels of the Burgess mansion. When I asked why he was sharing this information with me, he divulged that he’d been sacked for getting sleepy on the job.

“So you’re a disgruntled ex-employee, then?” I asked him.

“No, that’s not it,” he told me, shaking his head. “I don’t care that I was sacked. I had a new job lined up with me uncle already.”

“What, then?”

“If your boss gets mad at ya for gettin’ tired on the job, it’s ‘cause they’re pissed you ain’t doin’ your work, right?” he asked me. I nodded. “It was bein’ sleepy that was the problem. They didn’t give two shites about me doin’ anythin’ important while I was there. They didn’t know that my wife just had a little one and we weren’t gettin’ much sleep between the two of us.”

I told him that I still failed to see his point.

“It’s the SLEEPIN’,” he told me again, insistent. “Alex Burgess caught me startin’ to nod off and threw me outta there screamin’ “You can’t sleep around ‘im!””

Your eyes narrowed. No one was allowed to sleep in the being’s presence? Why? What did that mean?

You thought back to the parchment. Dream.

“Not skiving off, are you?”

You jumped. Alex Burgess had rolled into your open bedroom doorway.

“What? N-no, no,” you said quickly, your heart doing its best to rip its way out of your chest. You slammed the lid of your laptop. The old man’s eyes looked at your closed computer then back to you.

“Relax, Y/N, it’s all in jest,” Alex smiled, rolling a foot further into your room. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything. The door was open.”

“Oh,” you faltered, forcing a laugh. “Yeah, right. Sorry. I was just… emailing my, uh, mom.”

“I’m sure you miss her.”

“I do.”

A beat.

“I never really knew my mum.”

You smiled sadly, slipping the locked computer behind you and out of Alex’s field of vision. You weren’t sure what to say.

“I’ll just, um, get back at it,” you grinned awkwardly, grabbing the dust rag and cleaning spray from your nightstand. Alex nodded and backed out of your doorway, giving you room to exit.

“Think you could make me another cuppa before you do?” he asked you.

“Of course.”

_______________________________________

That night was colder.

The pajamas you brought didn’t cover enough skin to keep you warm, so you grabbed a knitted cover off the back of the sitting room couch to wrap around your shoulders before hiding behind the grandfather clock to wait. The guards’ shift change was approaching.

As they always did, Hattie and Randy emerged from the basement at exactly ten o’clock. While Hattie was pulling on her thick coat, Randy groaned.

“What?” she asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Randy hissed, shaking the cell phone that he had just pulled from his pocket. “I just got a text from Edwin. He ain’t comin’.”

“At all?!”

“No, he quits.”

“Bugger,” Hattie spat, planting her hands on her wide hips. “Well, what the hell are we supposed to do? I’m not workin’ a double that I’m not gettin’ paid for!”

“They don’t pay us enough to deal with this shite,” Randy agreed, pulling on his coat anyway. He lowered his voice. “It don’t sound like Mr. Burgess is wise. Let’s just pop off and we’ll tell him in the morning.”

“We shouldn’t tell ‘im now?” Hattie asked.

“That old codger’s asleep by now. Anyway, he’d ask us to stay. I don’t wanna give ‘im the opportunity.”

Hattie hesitated, looking at the closed basement door with disdain, then to the front door longingly. She sighed.

“What Mr. Burgess don’t know won’t hurt us, right?” she conceded hopefully. Randy chuckled and followed her to the front door.

You couldn’t believe your luck. Edwin wasn’t coming. You had nearly eight hours before the next shift.

Joy was a new spring flower blossoming in your chest. Could this be the night you helped the man escape? Every moral fiber in your body told you that it had to be done. However, the possibility of sentencing yourself and your employers to almost certain death was holding you back. You certainly weren’t ready to die.

But you knew that if it wasn’t tonight, when would it be? Alex and Paul would know by morning that they needed to hire a new night guard, and there was no guarantee that whoever they hired would run late enough to give you your valuable time window.

Then a horrible thought occurred to you. What if Mr. Burgess changed the security combination every time an employee left? It had taken you weeks to get that code, and you didn’t know when or if you would ever have an opportunity to return to the basement if that happened.

You chose not to think about that now, not yet.

The familiar hum of the mystery man in the bowel of the basement began to strum through your bones, making you sigh. In a strange way, at this distance, it was almost a soothing sensation.

You pressed the carving of the amulet on the nearby wall and the keypad appeared.

Four.

Zero.

Seven.

Three.

Seven.

Four.

As it did the night before, the intensity of the entity’s presence knocked the breath out of you as soon as you opened the basement door. You knew to expect it this time, though. A wall of freezing air hit you as you reached the bottom of the steps, soaking through your thin blanket. Winter had seeped into the ground.

Undeterred, you gently pushed open the glass doors and stepped forward with more confidence than you had the previous night. The vibrations in your chest seemed to hum in approval as your eyes settled on the unnaturally striking man that was curled inside the translucent orb. He was sitting in the middle of it now, upright, chiseled face as stoic as ever.

His gaze was hooded and pierced through yours. Your memories did not do those fathomless eyes justice.

In steps, you were centimeters from the edge of the intricate summoning circle. The pale light of the basement cast his cheekbones in sharp relief. Your nerve endings felt like they were on fire and his relentless stare was making them sear. Goosebumps erupted in a tickle over your skin, but whether it was the cold or his smoldering stare you didn’t know.

“I told you I’d come back,” you breathed, voice barely above a whisper. It hit you just how much you’d been longing to be in this exact spot all day long.

He rested his forearms on his knees, ankles tactically crossed to cover his manhood. He barely cocked his head, studying you. You again had the suspicion that he was carding through your every thought. You sincerely hoped that he didn’t have the ability to do that, or you were going to be incredibly embarrassed.

Despite the chill, you could feel your cheeks beginning to heat.

“So,” you offered lamely, clutching the thin blanket around your shoulders, “I realized that it wasn’t very fair of me to ask you for your name without telling you mine.”

His chin lifted ever so slightly, looking down at you through his thick curtain of lashes. You took that as a signal that he was listening. You licked your lips.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, offering a gentle smile.

His intrusive gaze raked from your face to your feet, and back up again. You tightened the blanket around you even more. You felt very exposed, which was ironic, considering that the only naked one here was him. The heat had spread from your nerve endings to your cheeks now. You knew he was noticing.

“I—I still don’t know your name,” you said, doing your best to gulp down your blush, “but I don’t expect you to tell me. I get the feeling you’re not much of a talker.”

At that, the corner of his full lips twitched. It was almost imperceptible but you got a rush from his brief moment of amusement nevertheless.

“I get why you don’t talk,” you continued. “You don’t owe them anything. Especially with… all of this.” You jutted your chin toward the glass orb in question. “But if all you had to do was make a promise to get out of there, I have to admit I’m a little confused as to why you won’t just do it.”

His lips pursed at that. His steely eyes were hard.

“Unless… you know that when you do get out, you’ll hurt them. You want to hurt them.”

It wasn’t a question. The flash of anger across his face confirmed it for you. He was waiting to take his revenge, but was holding onto his honor enough not to lie in order to get it. Fear trickled down your spine when he glowered like that with so much barely-contained rage, even if the fury was for Alex Burgess and not for you.

He’s dangerous, you reminded yourself. You need to remember that.

Even though your logical mind knew this, your heart ached for him nonetheless. You weren’t the one responsible for his imprisonment, but you had the power to end it. If you just stood around and did nothing that made you no better than Roderick Burgess, in your opinion. This being was not meant to be here. Whatever ancient power he possessed was meant to be out in the world, not in the dead Demon King’s basement.

“I may not know who you are, but I think I’m starting to figure it out,” you said, desperate to change the subject and get that furious gleam out of his eyes. You watched the placement of your feet as you began to pace around the golden circle of sigils. His head turned to follow you.

You stopped to watch him.

“I found this old scroll rolled up in Roderick Burgess’s study. I think it’s about you,” you told him. You licked your lips again, always feeling your mouth turn to cotton when you held eye contact with him for too long. “I couldn’t figure out much, but I could still make out one word: Dream.”

His head lifted fully now and his pale body turned to face you. You were on the right track, then.

“Is… is that what you do?” you asked measuredly, beginning to pace again. His unrelenting attention trailed you as you walked. You returned to the front of the circle. “Do you have something to do with dreams?”

His countenance was as stony as ever, like unyielding white marble, but he leaned toward you the same way he had the night before. His face was an inch from the glass. You wished so desperately that you could touch it, that you could get even closer. You wanted to caress his cheek like you had his drawing many times before.

You searched his endless eyes for answers. It seemed like he wanted to give you something but he was waging an internal battle with himself. You leaned toward him, matching his motion, but your toes stayed in place. You hoped that he could see—feel—from you that you were worthy of his trust.

For the first time since you first laid eyes on him, he blinked. There was emotion there. His forehead gently touched the glass with his imploring orbs searching yours. His lips barely twitched open, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. You could see every dark lash that surrounded his beautiful eyes now.

“You… you control dreams?” you asked, your voice a wisp of its former self. The sheer feeling in those eyes directed at you stoked the searing flames in your gut. That pulsating hum was so very strong now.

His eyes were shining. Pale forehead still against the glass, he nodded. Your connection to him in that moment felt inexplicably intimate.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. His unworldly beauty made sense now. You remember thinking that you could only dream up someone like him. It was fitting.

Your eyelids fluttered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill at the intense emotions that were congealing in your throat. His imprisonment was the greatest tragedy you could imagine. Dreams were such an important thing. Dreams made humanity what it was, made people strive to be better.

“How could they do this?” you whispered, a profound hate boiling in your blood for Roderick Burgess. “How could they do this to you?”

Your empathy still seemed to confuse him, but his expression had softened. It occurred to you that very few, if any, people that he saw every day for countless years ever showed him any kindness or care. Alex Burgess, Paul McGuire, the guards… they all regarded him with nothing but contempt, entitlement, or fear. You had eavesdropped on enough conversations to know that.

You doubted that this man wanted your pity, but you felt betrayed by Roderick Burgess. You were betrayed on behalf of humanity for depriving you of him, of this ethereal being—this man of dreams.

Ever since your childhood, you’d had the most vivid of dreams. You always remembered them, but more importantly, they were almost always lucid. You knew that you were dreaming while you were still in the dream, giving you the ability to change things, people, places. You were the master of your own universe.

You slept often and for long periods of time because your dreams were always so much better than your reality. If you’d had it your way, you would have stayed in bed for the rest of your life just to continue your fantastical imaginings. It sparked your curiosity for all things unexplainable. However, when you overheard your parents one day discussing sending you to a sleep specialist, you knew that you had to come back to the real world.

Your most recent dreams had been of this house, of you finding your way to it and walking through dark, candlelit hallways with hooded figures darting in and out of sight. You thought that it was just your obsession for the paranormal history of Roderick Burgess and his ancestral home swimming through your subconscious, but maybe it was something more. The sorcerer and his infamous magic wasn’t why you always felt drawn here, that was clear to you now.

It was him. Maybe you were meant to find him.

Once you made that realization, something inside of you slid together like a puzzle piece. The Burgesses had made their bed, and even though you never wanted harm to come to anyone, your purpose was clear.

“I’m getting you out,” you choked.

The emotion on the dream man’s face was unfathomable, his limitless blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. He breathed a disbelieving sob that made the aching lump in your throat clench. His pale hands pressed desperately against the glass on both sides of his head. A rogue tear slid down his sallow cheek.

You gulped down an empathetic cry that was threatening to tear through your throat and threw the blanket off of your shoulders. You ignored the intense chill that encased your under-clothed body.

“First things first, I have to break this circle,” you murmured. You positioned yourself at the very front center of the golden sigil and pressed your socked foot onto the most outward line. You looked up. The man was standing now with his forehead and hands still glued to the glass. His taut chest was heaving up and down, his tongue darting between his pink lips. His eyes were stirring with an emotion in their depths that you couldn’t name, but whatever it was pulled the fiery blush back to your cheeks.

Slowly, deliberately, you put pressure on your toes and slid your foot backward. The most outward line was broken.

You could tell instantly that the air had changed. The effervescent power that until that point had only thrummed inside your body was overtaking the entire basement. It was like a trembling bass that had been pulsing in your earphones alone was suddenly reverberating through a massive amplifier.

You didn’t stop there. You knelt and rubbed your outstretched hand over the remaining lines and sigils that you could reach.

The summoning circle was broken.

You closed the distance that you’d been longing to close and pressed your hands against the invisible barrier. The dream man dropped to his knees, head thrown back toward the ceiling and arms outstretched. It was like he was a ravenous traveler that had been stranded without water for years, and he was finally getting a drink. His chiseled chest was heaving faster now, his nostrils flaring.

Abruptly, he dropped his head and pressed his face against the glass again, right in front of yours. It was the closest you’d been to him yet and your body was singing. His ghostly palms went as far as they could, thudding against where yours rested on the other side.

You had to tell yourself to breathe.

“Can you break it?” you asked him desperately. He shook his head once, but tilted his chin toward the corner of the basement closest to the door. There was a small guard’s desk there covered in computer screens.

You bolted toward it, sweating palms searching for anything you could use to hammer against the glass. There were papers, two keyboards, and trash leftover from someone’s dinner, but nothing you saw that could be used to break a thick glass prison.

“Fuck it!” you exclaimed. You grabbed one of the wooden chairs and dragged it toward the orb unceremoniously. “You might wanna stand back.”

He didn’t listen to you.

He was unmovable with hands pasted to the barrier and eyes on fire. You lifted the chair, and with all your strength, threw it against the glass. You weren’t surprised when it didn’t break but you tried again. You hurled the chair a third time, but it didn’t even leave the faintest of cracks. You wanted to scream. You were so close!

You took a step back, your chest now heaving as well. Your eyes darted all around the glass prison, looking for a weak point, looking for anything.

“Wait,” you grinned. Your smile was alight with the promise of a new idea. You didn’t know why you hadn’t already thought of it. “I know where they keep their guns.”

For the first time, a true smile tugged at the unearthly man’s lips. You tore yourself away from the addicting sight and ran toward the glass doors. With a speed that surprised you, you were up the stairs and out of the basement door in seconds.

With light but hurried feet, you ran down the dark hallway and toward the study, heart hammering against your ribcage. You stopped underneath a hideously eerie stuffed deer head and swung open the doors of a large wooden cabinet. There, the Burgess family’s old hunting rifles sat behind glass. You didn’t have the key and you had no idea where it was, but this glass looked much thinner than whatever was incasing the being downstairs.

You prayed a quick prayer to whatever god was listening that you wouldn’t wake up the sleeping elderly couple and seized a nearby fire poker in your hands. With one strong swing, you shattered the glass. You dropped the metal tool at your feet and grasped the first rifle you could reach.

You sped toward the basement door, not even bothering to look upstairs to see if you’d woken anyone. There was no time.

Your quick feet trampled down the flight of stairs. Within seconds, you were blowing through the glass doors and toward the last barrier between you and the otherworldly man that overtook your senses.

You hoped against hope that the gun was loaded.

With a deep breath to steel your courage and a whispered prayer, you lifted the gun to your shoulder and slid off the safety. You cocked it, and with relief, you heard the click of a round sliding into the chamber.

“I won’t hurt you, will I?” you asked abruptly, dropping the barrel toward the ground.

The man showed no sign that he heard you. He was bracing against that glass, every muscle tensed, jaw clenched and eyes ablaze with something primal and barely-contained.

You raised the gun back to your shoulder, aimed, braced yourself, and pulled the trigger.

BOOM!

The moment the bullet hit the glass, the entity inside jumped with something that was akin to pleasure. His forceful eyes were dark and zoned in on you, commanding you to do it again. With a fire that licked your innermost soul, you pulled the trigger a second time.

His muscles contracted, his mouth falling open in a way that was sinful as a crack began to snake its way in front of his face. His scorching glare was black with furious expectation, imposing his will upon you once more. Again.

···

BOOM!

You heard it before you saw it.

The glass was shattered.

Tags: @meanlilbean @daddyjackfrostt @luula @songbirdcannabe @true-queen-of-mischief @nerds4life246 @shitpostingiris @herpes-free-since-05 @hipnopanda22 @mandiiellen

@rubidium055 @carrietrekkie @18041105 @lokigirlszendaya @windchaser1986 @pinkybee926 @thecurioussimmeruk @missnightingale1971 @clermonts @kasaikawa @kakashibabe02 @pogpixelz @musicconversedance @katnighttime @icui-4-cu @ghostwire--22 @that-yn-girl @megumimind @blooo0ooop

@milleca @cc13723things @just-a-dreamy-thought @ac-procrastinator-13 @faithm120601 @ravenwayghwitch @thetwelveshadowedgalleries @bonesfordead @jesllianaquilesrolon @the-avengers-ate-my-tongue @katymrty @arctvcmnk @magic-begins-here @slytherincursebreaker @bucky-thorin-winchester

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@harmonygrant @masterobiwan279 @ollyoxenfrees @lexivalentin3 @theylettheirwingsdown

**read chapter 4 here

#the sandman x reader #the sandman #the sandman netflix #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus/dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless #the endless #the dreaming #dream #morpheus #tom sturridge #neil gaiman #slow burn #romance #dream x y/n #morpheus x y/n #reader insert #in your dreams #dream x you #morpheus x you #dream the endless

[fear-is-truth]

 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧

you find him lying face down on the floor, unmoving.

“tate..?”

his eyes are red-rimmed and slightly watery when he rolls over to face you.

you put a hand to his forehead, which was burning hot.

"oh god, you're hot!”

“i know, it’s one of my finest attributes.” he mumbles.

“tate i was talking about your temperature-"

you ask him if there’s anything you can get for him to make him feel better

he looks at you with puppy eyes and tells you that you’re all that he need.

and those cherry-flavored cough drops (he can finish the entire box if you’re not watch)

loves to snuggle against you in bed. extra clingy.

your soft coos, the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he falls asleep.

he just loves it when you baby him.

𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

he comes home from work one night, and you could hear him sneezing in the hallway.

when you go over and greet him, kit wraps his arms around you and after a bit of hesitation, pecks your cheek instead of the usual passionate kiss on the lips.

“sorry, suga. but i think i’ve caught a cold, don’t wanna risk you gettin’ sick.”

tired as hell but insists that he’s fine and you should tuck the kids in bed first. asks you to give thomas and julia a kiss on the forehead for him.

after the kids are in bed, you do everything to make your hardworking and sweet husband feel better. treat him like the king he is.

you draw him a relaxing, warm bath with salts, and sit at the edge of the tub, massaging his shoulders.

“what did i ever do to deserve an angel like you, hm?”

before you could reply, he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you into the tub.

needless to say, he felt a lot better after that. to him, you’re the best medicine in the world.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡

he carries on with his duties as a hotel owner / serial killer like every other day.

although he does a good job of hiding it, you can just tell something’s up.

the way he keeps using his handkerchief to wipe the beads of sweat on his forehead.

not to mention him attempting to stifle his coughs by pretending to clear his throat.

when you ask if he's feeling a bit 'under the weather,' he dismisses it by saying, “nonsense. i’m dead, dear. ailments no longer affect me."

james is a busy man– there are hotel guests to greet and people to murder. and for whatever reason, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s sick.

so there’s one more option to “lure” him into taking it a small break.

you simply express your wish to spend some quality time, and james immediately focuses all his attention on you.

james is a busy man, but spending time with his queen is always his top priority.

you both unwind by engaging in relaxing activities together, such as playing cards, reading, or discussing plans for the upcoming devil's night over hot tea.

𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

deny, deny, deny.

stomps around the house aggressively doing everything to prove that he’s not sick at all.

very hostile and snappy to anyone who bear witness to his sick, weakened state.

complains about everything.

“why is it so fucking cold here? did the heater break down again?”

kai also refuses to take medicine that you or winter try to give him.

you have to leave a box of NyQuil and a glass of water somewhere obvious, where he would find.

he pretends not to notice them.

but when you check on it a couple of hours later, you find a few pills missing from the blister pack.

the glass of water remains untouched, though. he swallows his pills dry. (typical kai behavior)

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞

kyle doesn’t really mind being sick all that much.

but he hates the cough syrup and refuses to take it.

(but who can blame him? that stuff is nasty)

you try to trick him into taking the “magic syrup” but he didn’t fall for that.

after fifteen minutes of failed attempts, you resort to to bribery:

promises of chocolate chip cookies, with lots of hugs and kisses finally made him take the spoonful of syrup.

(him scrunching up his nose and making weird faces all the time)

you build a cozy nest made out of blankets, pillows and stuffed animals.

then you watch videos in his ipad, sharing a box of cookies. (crumbs all over your bed but who cares?)

and lots of cuddling, kisses and affection.

you probably end up sick too.

but hey, it’s your sweet boy kyle. definitely worth it :)

consider this a sequel to “what they would do if you are sick”

✧. a/n ─ pls excuse the cringe writing, i wrote this while i was literally sick in bed :,) if you wanna be on my taglist just lemme know <3

#american horror story #ahs #evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #kai anderson #james patrick march #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #tate langdon x y/n #Tate Langdon x reader #kit walker x reader #the evans headcanons #jpm x reader #Kyle spencer #franken kyle #kyle spencer #ahs cult #kit walker x y/n #jimmy darling

[noirsfantasy]

On the sixth day of Christmas...

𝔐𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔬𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Gregory Eddie x Black!Fem Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔥 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛968

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ It’s Christmas time, but you felt that there was something missing. It was festive enough. You wanted to do something that would blow your boyfriend’s mind away. So you hid mistletoe in every corner you could reach, and even in some you couldn’t. This is definitely gonna spice some things up.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Y’all, let me tell you. Gregory Eddie? He’s so fine and I don’t know what it is about awkward men, but it’s so fun to mess with them. I feel like when I was writing this, some might think y/n is modeled after Janine. But I assure you, that is not the case. Honestly, I feel like, if he were in the real world, his girlfriend would be something like this. It really would be so cute. But yeah, just keep in mind that y/n is a bit on the shorter side. It’s up to you how short😌 Enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

The festive spirit fills the air as I scurry around our home, determined to turn it into a winter wonderland. I've put up lights and every decoration I could find. But my true masterpiece is the rows upon rows of mistletoe. There isn't a single spot without mistletoe somewhere near it. And, despite my short stature, I even managed to get them in the high spots. Of course, as a finishing touch, I placed the final sprig right on top of my head. Brilliant!

One might wonder, why do I need this much mistletoe? But I've got a plan in place. As I stand back to admire my handiwork, I can't help but grin with anticipation. Gregory Eddie, my lovable and slightly clueless boyfriend, is about to walk into the ultimate Christmas surprise. And I'll finally be able to get what I've been longing for. Endless kisses.

I hear the front door creak open and I can barely contain my excitement. I'm currently in the kitchen, having just put some cookies in the oven, but I wait to hear Greg's reaction.

"Um, Y/N?" He calls, setting his bag down by the door as he takes in the appearance of our apartment. "Why does it look like Christmas threw up in here?" I giggle and make my way over to the door, attacking him with a hug.

"Oh, you know, just spreading some holiday cheer! And, uh, just hoping for some mistletoe magic." I say with a mischievous smile as I point to the mistletoe on top of my head. He looks at me with confusion.

"Mistletoe magic?" I nod, deciding it's time to reveal my secret weapon, needing to step up my game to get him to realize. I pull out another hidden mistletoe from behind my back and hold it above my head.

"Ta-da! Now, according to my brilliant plan, you have to give me a kiss." I say, matter of factly. Greg stares at me for a moment, before bursting out laughing at my plan. However, he can't resist my charm either, so he leans down and gives me a sweet kiss. I smile into the kiss, doing a small victory dance when he pulls away.

"So, is this going to happen every time we walk under mistletoe?" He chuckles as I nod enthusiastically. "You and your mistletoe antics, Y/N. You're something else." He leans down for another kiss, this one deeper than before, "I love you, crazy."

"I love you, too!" I reply with a bright look in my eyes. Greg lifts me up into his arms and carries me to the couch, sitting down and pulling me into his lap.

Surrounded by the glow of Christmas lights, Greg eyes the strategically placed mistletoe with a bemused smile. "So, how many of these did you put up?" He asks me. I shrug my shoulders, counting on my fingers and pretending to ponder.

"Well, let's see... I lost count after twenty. But I just figured that more mistletoe equals more kisses."

"You know you don't need to set traps like this to get me to kiss you right?" He tells me, his thumbs drawing circles on my hips.

"I knowww, but at least, this way, it's more festive!" I give him a cute smile as I explain my reasoning. Greg can't help but grin at my adorable face. He pulls me close, pecking my lips.

"Maybe next time, instead of hanging mistletoe, you could wrap yourself in tinsel and wait in a present box for me." He suggests jokingly. I smirk and raise an eyebrow.

"Don't tempt me now." Greg chuckles, kissing me on the cheek.

"You're such a mischievous little monster, you know that? Even when I think I have you all figured out, you always come up with some new devious plan to make me fall in love with you even more."

"What can I say? I am a woman of many talents." I say with a casual shrug. Greg grins back at me.

“That you are… That you are. Do you think you’ll still be pranking me when we’re old and gray?” He raises an eyebrow and sighs, “Who am I kidding… Of course you will be.” I laugh loudly at that.

"I mean, come on, it's obvious this is only the beginning." I give him a playful nudge as I lean forward and wrap my arms around his neck. Greg laughs along with me, pulling me closer.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you, Y/N, with your pranks and your silliness and your mistletoe and everything about you." I kiss him longingly, enjoying the soft feeling of his lips against mine, even if I've felt it a million times.

"I love you too, Greg... even when you're a little slow to figure out my pranks." I tease causing Greg to laugh again. I pull him in for an exaggerated kiss. It's playful at first, but then it transforms into a deep passionate kiss that causes me to blush. Just when things are getting good, I hear the ding of the oven, signaling that my baking is finished. We break the kiss and I sigh heavily, sliding off of Greg's lap and standing up.

"I need to go get those before they burn," I announce and he stands up, a cheeky grin on his face.

"It's okay, babe, you go get those, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Then we can get back to the program." He wiggles his eyebrows and I laugh as I nod, heading into the kitchen. As I remove the cookies from the oven and turn it off, I hear Greg from the bathroom.

"REALLY, Y/N?? IN THE DAMN TOILET?!" He shouts, causing me to burst out into laughter. I forgot I left that there.

#fluff #tyler james williams #gregory eddie #abbott elementary #gregory eddie x reader #12 days of christmas #christmas #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader #black!y/n #noirsfantasy #black men #black tumblr #black actors #black romance

[scaryspears]

Earth 42 Miles x Telekinetic Autistic (Black) Reader

Notes: The Reader was inspired by Carrie. Why? I wanted to do a black reader with super powers, but I didn't want to write her like other black readers have been written with 42 Miles. I just can't relate with how they speak or the situations. This isn't to say she will be a sweet, precious thing, just odd.

You had a bunch of issues. First, you were a target for harassment, verbal most of the time. Vandalism was rare, but it did often happen. Your locker would be painted with unkind words, and a pencil would be missing from your pencil case and you could never point out who took it but you always had a suspicion. It wasn't too bad, depending on who you compared yourself to, but it still hurt. It was still bothersome.

You had to wonder what made you such a great and easy target in the first place. Your habit of wearing the same clothes everyday, sleeping in class, and taking things too literal. Even worse, you were too gullible. A genius would've just said these were your autistic traits, but too bad you didn't know that at the time. The many times you attempted to be different didn't work out, always setting a standard. So you gave up, counting the days until graduation. Hoping that it would come sooner than expected.

There was only one worthwhile thing in school and that was art class. Not too many people present. You weren't amazing with drawing or art in general, fairly decent, but it was the only class with any peace in it. The least judgemental lesson. In every art class you sat behind Miles Morales, and you would find yourself staring at his back. At his pretty braids.

You always liked boys with long hair, and Miles was no different. This day was no different, quiet as always and slow. It would be most preferable if you didn't make your crush obvious.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you gonna look away?" You heard him speak. He didn't even have to look over his shoulder.

You blinked hard, "Hmm?"

"You're staring. Stop." he didn't sound angry from what you could hear, but his tone wasn't pleasant either.

You immediately did as he asked. You tried to focus on your sketches, drawing pictures of magical girls from your favourite childhood cartoons, then drawings of more serious things. The Prowler had been on the news again, reporters painting him in good and bad light. He saved two teenagers from a burning building, others say he caused the fire. But teenagers always did stupid things, and you would know from being one. Just thinking about it made the windows crack a little.

"Look at the windows!" one of the boys spoke, pointing.

Everyone else, except Miles, either got up to have a closer look or sat in wonderment from their seat. You feigned surprise as best as you could, you've long since learned that you weren't good at faking expressions. The teacher ordered everyone to start packing up, safety being the number one priority. There was no reason for the windows to break by themselves, and you contemplated if you should stop.

As you stared at the window you slowly started packing your equipment, watching the cracks reach the corners and edge until every single one of them smashed entirely. It was like lifting an eyebrow, some could do it naturally and others couldn't.

"Alright, everyone out!" the teacher called.

Your classmates were already rushing out of the room, but only Miles remained sitting while you stood looking at the broken glass on the ground.

"[LN], Morales! Time to go!" the teacher called.

You left the room, but halfway through the door you heard Miles say behind you, "Serena had a party last night."

You started fiddling with your top, dreading what he would say. "Okay."

"What were you doing that night?" he asked coolly.

That party. That damned party.

"I got invited, and then I left." that was the truth.

"So you weren't there, when Jordan..." he grabbed your arm, "Threw his drink at you."

That's not all that happened. They threw food at you, and your clothes became stained. You dressed special for that day, hopeful, unfortunately expectant.

"I..." you tried to pull your arm away.

"How did that fire happen?" he turned you to face him. You averted your eyes. Miles' eyes were beautiful but the way they bore into your soul was most unkind.

You had heard that artists were weird. They either did weird things or had something weird about them. Maybe this was another occasion. You tried to forget about these powers. Even though you have embraced that there was something wrong strange about you.... you couldn't help the need to be decently normal deep down. Now these powers just had to bite at your behind.

"What fire?"

"Don't play stupid, you've seen the news. Serena and Jordan are now in the hospital, the others might still be in a coma."

"How is that my problem?" you asked, your cruel side demanding attention.

Miles was mildly impressed with your response, the grip on your arm loosening. "It isn't," he admitted, "I just know the fire wasn't natural."

"I don't know what happened to them."

He let go of your arm, "Fine."

You walked away.

If you ever wanted to grab the attention of Miles Morales, you didn't want to grab it like this. You weren't sure if your classmate suspecting you of arson should be something to worry about.

"I can't blame her if she did do it, I mean I don't think I should go around killing my classmates, but can you believe they decided to live stream it?" Miles removed the screwdriver from his claw.

Miles' uncle, Aaron, sighed, "Kids as old as you run wild, boys most of all. Girls are different, they go out of their way to plan stuff. I don't know what to tell you."

"I worry about her, tio. She really didn't do anything to... warrant that behaviour."

This, Aaron knew what to say to. "Sometimes people don't need a reason to do something, they'll just do it. That hazing thing was a classic example of that." he tossed a drill to Miles, "Was there a chance she got any clue what they were planning?"

Miles shook his head aggressively, "I don't think she understands basic human interactions even if she tried, I've seen how she is. All they did was smile in her face when they invited her. Smiles are a good thing, and it takes her a while to pick up on the fact that she's getting made fun of."

"Look out for her, then. If she really has something to do with that fire like you suspect, then this could turn bad. Women can be crazy, Miles."

"Okay. I will, tio."

Some days passed since the minor interrogation with Miles, and though he seemed to pretend you no longer existed, you could feel his eyes on you. You tried to be on your best behaviour, and you've had better control of your powers ever since he brought up the incident. You didn't want to be suspected of a single crime.

Upon this suspect-tion came sleepless night, which led to sleeping in class.

"[Name]." sounded faint, like the screams that only felt regret from fear and not guilt.

"[Name]." it was louder this time. A warning for your attention. You search through the heat for where it was coming from.

"[Name.]" This time there was no mistaking it, this voice was not from the dream.

Wherever you were, there was no escaping that fire. Although you had gotten so used to the dreams, you couldn't help your eyes tearing up. You made sure to turn your face away from whoever had shook your shoulder.

You weren't sad or scared, but you couldn't help it. Something about being unable to regulate your emotions.

"[Name.]" the person hadn't left, and now that you were no longer as sleepy you recognised whose voice it was.

"Hey, Miles."

"Hey." he greeted.

He hadn't moved back to his seat, so you looked up to his face, waiting for him to potentially say more, this time not averting your eyes.

He did have more to say, "You're a Tokyo Mew Mew fan." he looked down at your sketchbook, which was still open.

You quickly covered it with your arms, glaring at him. Daring him to say something about your long lasting interest.

"I'm going comic con this Saturday. Do you wanna come?"

His face, and his eyes, were kind. But you couldn't help suspiciously being on edge.

"I don't know." left your lips quicker than it usually did.

He didn't appear disappointed, judging by the lack of expression on his face. He glanced to the side, "Class finished five minutes ago, by the way."

So that's why it was so quiet.

"Can I walk you to lunch?"

Yes. No. What was the correct answer?

"I don't know." you couldn't come up with a better response.

For whatever reason he smiled, or smirked(?). For better or for worse.

"Come on, I'll make sure you get there safely."

888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888

Feeling cute, might do a part 2.

#uncle aaron #aaron davis #42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #black reader #autistic reader #miles morales x black reader #42 miles morales x black reader #telekinesis

[mayandjuly1811]

WHY HUNTLOW IS A FORCED AND UNREALISTIC  SHIP.

1. First impressions:

Raeda has the most amicable meeting. About Lumity, Amity shook Luz's collar and almost got Principal Bump dissect her. It stems from misunderstanding, because Amity doesn't know Luz is human but a strange non-Abomination that Willow used to cheat. About Huntlow, Willow seems to be violent for no reasons at all. Hunter disguises as a Hexside student so to Willow, he's just a student that she doesn't know. He's not a threat at all. Yet she summons the vines to wrap him tightly and drags him down the ground so hard that the asphalt gets damaged. Treating strangers like this is not fine and out of character for Willow.

Also, when Hunter is about to leave again, Willow drags him down the ground and takes him to the field without asking his permission. This crosses boundaries a lot. In comparison, even though Amity sees Hunter as an enemy in Eclipse Lake, she just simply uses Abomination magic to capture him, not dragging him down violently like Willow.

2. Understanding:

Raine and Eda have a genuine common interest in music, magic (Eda is interested in wild magic and Raine supports her). Luz and Amity are both interested in Azura, the idea of being not enough for anyone, the idea of being accepted and loved for who they really are. Amity is also interested in Luz's glyph magic and she learns to draw it many times. 

About Huntlow, I don't see any common between them besides flyer derby. The whole “Half a Witch” is forced. Half a witch means a witch who is not powerful enough. Willow is a powerful Plant witch, her fathers just didn't realize her real magic talent and put her into Abomination track, which isn't her forte. If you're only good at Maths, but not Chemistry, does it make you unintelligent overall? Of course not. 

About Hunter, first off, he is not even a witch. He's a Grimwalker with no bile sack, his pointed ears were adjusted to look like witches’. Also, he's skillful at using magic staffs so no one sees him as powerless. He's the elite Golden Guard, one of the most powerful figures under Belos. No one dares to call him half a witch, even if they do think he's weak. And how he quickly recognizes the illusion of Willow in S2ep18 is unrealistic. How come Gus, Willow's long-term friend can't figure out before Hunter? The fact that Willow seems to be scared of Hunter is understandable. Last time, he literally locked her and her friends up, then kidnapped them, he also worked for Belos. Who knows if he's gonna do the same?

Hunter and Willow know little about each other. It's one sided. Hunter knows Willow is a strong and independent person, a caring and selfless girl. But Willow knows too little about Hunter compared with Luz, Gus and Amity. They never have a serious talk about Hunter's trauma caused by Belos, only a short scene of Willow cutting his hair. In Thanks to Them, Hunter has a deeper conversation with Luz and Gus than with Willow. With Willow, he just blushes even though nothing happens. Gus and Hunter's bond makes more sense than Huntlow to be honest. They both like Flyer Derby, they both like Cosmic Frontier, Gus knew about Hunter's being Grimwalker and his conflict with Belos, Hunter comforted Gus when he felt sad in Labyrinth Runner and when he missed his Dad. Hunter's screentime with Gus is even more than with Willow. Their platonic bond is stronger than Huntlow's forced romantic one.

Feeling development.

The way Willow and Hunter like each other is too rushed and unexpected. Starting with Hunter, he met Willow only one time in ASIAS and started to have a crush on her? He only met her once directly and already blushed? And Willow, she treats Hunter the same way she treats everyone. Only until Hunter has power and saves her does she fall for him. It's so rushed all of the sudden. Some people say they live together in Luz's house for months so they have feelings for each other. But there are no bonding moments between them besides the cutting hair scene. Even though the show is cut short, from Willow's scrapbook, she and Hunter don't have any bonding moments between the two of them.

Comforting.

It's one sided again. Hunter is understanding and sympathetic towards Willow. Meanwhile, how Willow tries to comfort him is questionable. He just lost Flapjack and Willow isn't understanding at all. She gives him the Flapjack picture, causing him to feel grieving again. He's been struggling to hold back his grief to focus on helping others. This backfires really back. She should have waited until Hunter brought things up about Flapjack first, just like Gus. He knows Hunter is a Grimwalker since the Day of Unity, but he doesn't bring anything up first and waits until Hunter says it first. He thinks about Hunter's emotions after being traumatized by Belos 

Also, when Hunter looks upset, Willow should have stayed to continue to comfort him?! Instead, she acts like she's the one who is hurting and leaves. Imagine you're feeling sad, someone tries to comfort you. You haven't felt better since you need time, they feel sad and leave you. Now you feel guilty because you can't be happy to make them happy. This is making things worse. Hunter can't even make himself feel calmer after Flapjack's death, yet now he'll feel guilty because his own sadness and grief makes Willow feel sad! Also, when Hunter calls out, she keeps walking and ignoring him. 

In conclusion, Willow and Hunter are better off as friends. They don't have any romantic chemistry or deep understanding. The ship is so forced and rushed.

#toh #toh critical #ship hate #anti huntlow

[nataliawrites]

Labor of Love // Max Verstappen

You were regretting all of your life choices. The pain was intense, the situation was less than ideal, and, worst of all, Max had been proven right.

You were 39 weeks pregnant and, despite missing Max’s last few races due to the travel restrictions your doctor placed on you, decided to attend the Monaco Grand Prix considering you lived here.

Max had spent the last few days trying to convince you not to go. But you showed him that while he had Dutch stubbornness, it was nothing compared to the will power of a heavily pregnant woman who put her mind to something.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly when you arrived at the track with Max by your side on a beautiful Sunday morning. You both went through your typical race day routines and, with the exception of some intermittent back pain (which you were rarely without at this point in your pregnancy), you felt great.

“Stay safe for us. We love you so much,” you hugged your husband as he was about to head to his the car.

“I will, schatje. I love you both,” he promised as he kissed you and then bent down to press his lips against your bump.

He made one last detour, making his team principal promise to keep an eye on you, before finally getting into his car and fully immersing himself in the race.

And that’s how you ended up watching the Monaco Grand Prix from right next to Christian Horner of all people on a surprisingly comfortable chair the team magically acquired for you.

Everything was going smoothly and Max managed to maintain the lead as the laps went by until your back pain got too extreme to ignore and you quietly gasped, trying to play it off with a nod as Christian looked at you concerned.

But the pains continued to come and go, growing more and more intense, until you felt the tell-tale wetness against the front of your maternity dress.

No. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not here.

There were five laps left and you refused to be the reason that Max missed out on topping the podium. As discretely as possible, trying not to draw attention to something being wrong, you started the breathing exercises your doctor taught you.

The laps seemed to go by in slow motion.

In. Contraction. Out. Four laps. In. Contraction. Out. Three laps. In. Contraction. Out. Two laps. In. Contraction. Out. One lap. In. Contraction. Out. The checkered flag! He did it.

You dimly heard Christian congratulating Max on P1 over the radio before the contraction died down enough for you to get understandable words out.

“Christian,” you groaned, “tell Max that he needs to go straight here. Right now. I’m in labor.”

You’ve never seen the infamous Red Bull team principal as shell shocked as in that moment. He went pale before stammering your message to your husband and turning to call for someone to bring down his wife and track down the medical car.

Unusually gentle, he then asked you how you are doing.

“I don’t think -“

Breath.

“I’m going to-“

Breath.

“Make it to-“

Breath.

“The hospital.”

You almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was as he tried to keep you calm, “Max, Geri, and a doctor are on the way.”

You almost cried tears of relief when your husband came rushing towards you, haphazardly handing off his helmet to the first person he saw.

He kneeled by your side, “I’m here, schatje. Tell me what you need.”

“It’s happening really fast-“

Breath.

“Won’t make it to the hospital-“

Breath.

“Driver’s room.”

Breath.

He quickly rose and helped you up from the chair as carefully as possible, “okay. Let’s go. Whatever you want.”

You make slow work, eventually realizing that even with Max helping you, between your contractions and pained waddle you won’t make it to the motorhome in time.

You reached the back of the garage when you give in and slide down the wall, setting off Max’s alarm bells.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We won’t make it,” you explain. “It’s happening here.”

Max freaks out even more, “What do you need? Do you want a chair? Do you want to lay down? Do you want to go to the nearest office?”

“I’m not walking anywhere else,” you emphasize between pained breathes.

Between your groans and Max’s random mutterings, you could hear Christian swearing somewhere down the hall and the sound of multiple shoes running towards you.

The sight of Geri Halliwell and a race physician approaching calmed you down slightly.

Max delicately adjusted you to position himself on the ground behind your body, his chest supporting your back.

The new arrivals froze at the sight of you two before another screech left your mouth and they both jumped into action. Geri knelt down, letting you grab onto her hand while petting your hair with her free one.

The doctor rapidly checked you over before confirming that your labor was progressing rapidly and you would have to deliver the baby as you were.

You hated yourself for not noticing the signs sooner. You hated yourself for not just listening to Max when he begged you to stay home. And you hated that you’d have to bring your child into the world on the floor of the Red Bull garage without any pain relief.

Max realized your next contraction was particularly bad as you tensed and leaned into him before arching away as you screamed. You drew comfort from his solid form supporting you and the tender woman at your side. The cycle of pain continued, Max’s attempts at praise and encouragement largely ignored as you were lost in the pain.

“Great job,” the doctor reassured, “I can see them crowning. The head’s almost out. Just keep pushing.”

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

“One more push, Y/N. You’re almost there.”

And then a brief second of silence before the most beautiful cries you’ve ever heard reached your ears.

“Congrats mom and dad, you have a little girl.”

You collapsed against Max, exhausted. When you looked up, the awe and tears on his face mirrored your own.

“Max, you should take off your race suit and top. Y/N, you should lower your dress. Some skin-to-skin contact is important,” the doctor advised and you both quickly did so.

The doctor handed you a tiny little bundle wrapped in a team branded towel and you stared at the perfect mix between you and your husband, completely in love with the baby resting against your chest.

You shifted, letting Max take your daughter against his own bare chest as you watched, engraining the moment in your memory.

“Emilia.”

“Hmmm?” Max sounds.

You clarify, “I want to name her Emilia.”

Max’s head snaps up, “After me?”

“You’re already the best husband and father.”

Both of your tears started up again, the intense love you felt for your daughter and each other overwhelming you.

“Emilia Y/N Verstappen,” Max decides, “A little bit of you and little bit of me.”

You almost forget about Geri until you hear the familiar click of a phone camera and look to your side to see her taking photos of your young family.

“Thank you, Geri. For being here for us and for capturing this memory.”

She’s also teary eyed, caught up in the sheer emotion of the moment, “She’s absolutely beautiful, you guys.”

Soon enough, paramedics come rushing down the hall to load you and Emilia onto a stretcher and take you to the hospital for proper checks.

As they rolled you out, Max’s hand never leaving your own, you passed by the front of the garage full of anxious team members and drivers from around the grid.

You motioned for the paramedics to pause for just a moment and turned to face the room of people who you considered family, “May I introduce you all to Emilia Y/N Verstappen. Like her papa, she raced into the world.”

The muted congratulations, so as not to scare the baby, reminded you that Emilia will have dozens of aunts and uncles to dote on her.

It may not have been how you anticipated welcoming your baby, but it was perfect nonetheless.

#f1 #f1 blurb #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1blr #f1 x reader #f1 x you #red bull f1 #mv1 #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen fic #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #formula one #formula 1 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader

[sakurapika]

What are your all-time favorite outfits from Twisted Wonderland?

Hello @letterstoear, thank you for ask! I've had a lot of fun making this post, and I'm so sorry that it took forever to answer!

Every time I was certain I had my list narrowed down, I remembered another outfit I really liked. (Also, I'm a little bit biased, as you will see...haha). This time, I focused on event outfits to make it easier for myself. Maybe in the future I'll post my "reviews" on dorm uniforms or Halloween costumes.

I am always blown away by the the little details that Yana Toboso and the rest of the design team have added to each of characters' outfits, because they give some interesting insight to their personalities and backgrounds.

Without further ado, let's discuss some outfits! (Please note that there are spoilers for upcoming events from the JP server, as well as some groovy arts!)

My Favorite Twisted Wonderland Outfits

10. Floyd's Outdoor Wear (Vargas Camp)

Most of the outfits on my list are on the extravagant side. I recently bought a volume of Black Butler, where there was a note about how Yana Toboso loves to draw clothing, and it truly shows.

But in contrast to seeing our beloved characters in over-the-top costumes, it's refreshing to see them wearing casual outfits once in a while as well and see their individual, everyday styles.

I'll admit that I haven't played any of the Vargas Camp events, and have a grand total of zero (0) cards from this series. I'm not sure why; I always miss the event's runtime for some reason.

Still, I've always loved Floyd's little sling bag with the eel keychain, as well as the teal visor. The bright colors stand out and are appealing.

The whole outfit looks like something you could get from a store like Uniqlo, and sometimes it is nice to have that sort of realism in a magical game. He looks like an ordinary teenager I could find on the street. Except...if I did find Floyd on the street, I'd be running in the other direction. But that's not the main idea here.

9. Azul's Glorious Masquerade Outfit

At first, I sort of forgot that this SSR existed. When the PV for Glorious Masquerade came out, I was more focused on Malleus.

However, eventually, many people began to cosplay as GloMas Azul, and they all looked so amazing. I began to appreciate the outfit more after seeing people pose and dance in it. Azul also tends to have some of the best fanart, and fans have spared no expense when drawing him wearing this.

My favorite part of the outfit is his coat. I like the silhouette it creates with a high-waist belt, and the long coattails that resemble tentacles. The ruffles on his trousers are cute, too. I would buy a pair if I could. Unfortunately, it's hard to see these details on his in-game sprite.

As for his accessories, the pearls are so dramatic (and so very Azul). His round glasses are also cute, I hope he wears them again!

8. Idia's Suitor Suit

One look at Idia's Ghost Marriage outfit, and you can really tell that it was designed by Yana Toboso. His gloves, coat, and cravat make him look like he's in the Victorian Era. Also, doesn't he look sort of like Grelle from Black Butler?

Speaking of Grelle, Idia's outfit is meant to look more like funeral attire, between the long, black coat and the lilies pinned to his shoulder. There are also skulls hidden throughout his outfit, such as on his jacket chain and cufflinks. I was still new to TWST at the time, so I just thought that Idia liked gothic clothing. I didn't realize he was (at least in his mind) attending his own funeral!

Let's not forget his new hairstyle! This is one of Idia's first SSRs if I remember correctly, so it was exciting to see him with a ponytail.

My love for this outfit also comes from my love for the story associated with it. Fans have pointed out that Idia's "arranged marriage" with Eliza parallels the myth of Hades and Persephone. The design team and Yana were so clever for this.

I don't have this card, either, but I hope to pick him up one day!

7. Ortho's Fairy Gear

The Shroud brothers are luckyーthey are probably two of the characters with the most SSRs in the game.

That being said, we all have to agree that Ortho's fairy gear is one of the most unique and avant-garde cards in the game.

I really enjoy the white and gold color scheme in this event. His color-changing wings are stunning, and the piece covering his eyes makes him look very mysterious.

I thought this card was cool when I first saw it, but then I learned that Ortho's outfit and hair can turn pink, which is even better.

Every time I see his "pointe shoes," it makes me imagine Ortho and Idia trying to learn how to dance together in Idia's room, and Idia obsessively studying ballet costumes for his younger brother.

Yet again, I don't have this card, but my best friend does! At least I can admire him from her phone...

6. Silver's Rabbit Wear

There is no way that this outfit is just an R card! When this card was first advertised in one of the JR rail train stations, the pictures showed this card with Deuce's hometown in the background instead of the standard Diasomnia R background, so I thought that this card would at least be an SR. (Although I can't complain so much, because that means it's free!)

Silver is so princely. I am convinced that he can look good in anything. I am fond of pastel colors, and the pink/blue color scheme suits him, as the TWST version of Aurora. The bows may be silly, but I find them adorable.

Compared to the other boys in this event, Silver's outfit looks a little more like a soldier's (albeit a toy soldier's or a nutcracker's), which is a cool touch.

5. Deuce's Rabbit Wear

Deuce's hometown event was truly one of my favorite events that came out in the JP sever last year. Not only were some of my most favorite characters there, but they were dressed up in the most whimsical outfits possible. (And we got to meet Deuce's motherーshe's the coolest!)

Since Deuce is the main character of this event, his outfit bears the most resemblance to the white rabbit's in most classic illustrations, complete with a bow tie, top hat, and, of course, his pocket watch. His outfit has a blue color scheme. Like Azul in GloMas, Deuce also wears round glasses in his groovy art. Overall, it looks like the sweet ouji style, although I'm not very familiar with this sub-fashion. If anyone who is reading this has studied/worn this style of fashion, please let me know!

I used to play Love Nikki and Shining Nikki (two fashion-themed gacha games), which also featured lolita dresses inspired by Alice in Wonderland characters. For this reason, Deuce's outfit in particular feels very nostalgic to me.

4. Lilia's Right General Armor

Here's another departure from the cute pastel outfits...

Sleeping Beauty was one of my favorite Disney movies as a child. I always remembered Maleficent's "goons" as short, silly little creatures wearing simple green tunics.

So how on earth did we get to Right General Lilia Vanrouge?!

Seriously, I'm just stunned by how the artists looked at the source material and created something so radically, yet wonderfully, different.

I'm curious about the green stones (jades?) on his outfit--around his waist, there are several pieces attached to tassels, and he has two strapped to his right leg. The material matches the stone used for his weapon. Maybe it represents his status in Briar Valley. If you check his (unposed) sprite, you can also see that he is wearing something around his waist that looks like folded bat wings.

Like everyone else, I'm obsessed with his long hairーit makes him look so formidable, especially with that hood. My friends and I like to joke that his ponytail makes him look like a character in a Chinese martial arts drama.

Again, the story associated with this card made me love it even more. Few books have made me cry as much as Book 7 of TWST.

3. Malleus' Glorious Masquerade Outfit

While Sleeping Beauty was my favorite movie as a young child, when I got older, I began to love The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was only natural for this outfit to be among my favorites for this reason.

There are so many details here. The feathered hat. The sheer sleeves. The golden embroidery. The split cape. It's honestly overwhelming to take in at once.

I can say that my favorite detail is his green earrings. They really bring out his eye color, and the PV made them so sparkly.

In addition, everyone I've ever seen who has cosplayed as GloMas Malleus or has drawn fanart of him has increased my appreciation of this outfit.

[Now for some very spoiler-y stuff] The fact that this event came just before the release of Chapter 7 is worth noting. Doesn't it feel a bit tragic that just before Malleus' overblot, we have a chance to see him wearing an outfit that makes him look especially like his mother, having fun and being the star at the masquerade? And what about the feathers on his shouldersーdo they hint at another side of his family? There's so much foreshadowing and mystery going on, and nothing is more suitable for the occasion than masquerade attire.

2. Kalim's New Year Attire

I've already rambled about how sentimental this outfit is to me in a previous post, but in summary: New Year is my favorite holiday, and the New Year's Sale event was the first event I "seriously" participated in. Kalim looks excessively cute and festive in his kimono, and every time I see this card, I feel nostalgic and in the holiday mood.

1. (Tied) Epel's Applepom Outfit and Riddle's Beach Outfit

I'm really sorry, Epel and Riddle are my favorite characters, and in the end, I refuse to chose between them. They're like my younger brothers! I try to collect all of their cards, so I pay attention to their outfits the most, and picking only one outfit for each character was a challenge in itself.

My favorite part of Epel's Applepom outfit is his cloak. It looks so fluffy and warm. When you set him as your home screen character, you also have the option to "swap looks" and see his outfit without the cloak--the apple embroidery on the rest of his outfit is very detailed. Many fans have mentioned that the outfits people wear in Harveston resemble traditional Scandinavian clothing, which is really cool!

The little apple slices on his cap are everything.

And I'm always happy to see characters in different hairstyles, such as Epel's little ponytail.

One of my headcanons is that you're allowed to call Epel cute, but only when he wears this specific outfit, because he takes it as a complement to his culture.

As for Riddle, we're all so used to seeing him wearing formal suits. It's so nice to see him loosening up for once. He looks so happy, now that he has the chance to see the ocean for the first time!

I also happened to be on vacation at the beach around the time this event came out, so it felt like a gift.

I have to laugh a little, because there are so many flowers on his outfit. Even Jack pointed it out in the story. But he looks so cute!

I suppose we have to discuss the elephant in the room. My friend saw it before me, so she spammed me with messages along the lines of "RIDDLE IS WEARING A CROP TOP!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!" and I naturally thought she was pranking me. But lo and behold, it's the truth. I like to headcanon that among the rest of the cast in this event, everyone has made an unspoken mutual agreement not to mention it. This Victorian child has already been through enough, and not a word must reach Mrs. Rosehearts.

Thank you once again for the ask! For anyone who read all of this, what do you think about these outfits, and which ones in the game are your favorite?

#The words “short” and “brief” are not in my vocabulary apparently #But it's alright #I just really love the work and details that the artists have put into the game #As well as the fan content! I'm so happy I joined the TWST fandom at this time #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #ortho shroud #twst silver #silver vanrouge #deuce spade #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #kalim al asim #epel felmier #riddle rosehearts

[howlingday]

everyone has jaune as a paladin or a fighter, lets see jaune as a barb everyone is terrified of this tall tattooed wild man and they think he's kidnapped ruby... they were just talking about their hobbies why's everyone so mean to ruby's new friend? of course also give us an obligatory jaune rage moment

"There he is."

Weiss and Yang peered from their hiding place to match their view with Blake. Ahead, their abducted leader sat across the fire, trapped by the hulking beast with his eyes on her. She looked like she was about to cry. Yang-

"Wait." Blake held her hand against Yang's chest. "We can't just rush in. Ruby could get hurt."

"Not if I hurt him first." Yang growled.

"Yang, he was able to take Ruby on his own." Blake reasoned. "And with Ruby already taken hostage, we can't risk any harm coming to her."

"Or any further harm." Weiss added.

Yang was angry, but she couldn't just rush in and vent them out on the guy right in front of her. She hated it, but she didn't have a choice. So she sat and waited, watching as her sister wept in front of her.

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

"That's so sad." Ruby sniffled. "And you couldn't do anything to stop her?"

"Pyrrha was always the better fighter." Jaune sighed. "Even if I wanted to, she would've found a way to stop me from taking her place." He traced his fingers down his arm, his digits kissing the spear and shield tattoos decorating his fallen friend and lover. They seemed to glow at his tough.

"Are they... magical?" Ruby asked.

"In a way." He gently smiled. "It helps me connect with her spirit." He chuckled. "Even now, she's ready to protect me."

"Can... Can I touch them?" He nodded, and she carefully approached him. He may have seemed gentle and kind now, but his earlier abduction of her made their friendship a little tenuous. He held out his arm, and she drew close, tracing her delicate fingers as he did. There was a magic in these arms, and the catalyst for their power were these tattoos. "Why did you abduct me?"

"Because I know you were there." Jaune answered. "And I didn't want a friend of Pyrrha to meet the same fate as she did."

"What do you- Whoa!" Ruby fell backwards, slipping in the mud. Jaune caught her arm, and she winced. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry," Jaune said as he reached a hand out to steady her, "are you oka-"

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER!" Ruby fell on her back as a familiar voice signaled an explosion in front of her. Yang threw a bomb at Jaune's face, likely hoping it would ony slightly injure her and fatally wound Jaune for some protective reason.

"Yang, don't-!"

The blonde bombshell rushed into the taller blond, swinging a hard fist into his face for good measure. Enraged, her eyes glowed red as she continued to strike her foe, unarmed save for the gauntlets covering her fists. There was a thundering crack, signaling that bone was broken.

"Ruby, are you okay?" Blake asked as she kneeled next to her leader.

"I'm fine," Ruby stood up, "but you guys need to stop attacking! Jaune's not our enemy!"

"Who's Jaune?" Weiss asked.

A scream pierced the air, drawing attention back to the mentioned barbarian. Holding Yang in place by a broken arm, what rage she felt died as she was made helpless by him. She couldn't pull away, the pain unbearable at every attenmpt to free herself.

"Yang!" Blake ran in, swing her ribboned blade in a wide circle before launching it at the assailant. As the blade neared, it harmlessly bounced off with a deafening gong. Where it struck, the barbarian's shield tattoo gave an ethereal glow. "How did..?"

"Blake, get back!" Weiss ran past, closing the distance between her teammate and their opponent.

She thrust forward, narrowly missing as Yang was released. Rather than retreat, however, the mountain of a man instead took hold of his longblade, readying it to engage Weiss' rapier. Again, his tattoos glowed.

"STOP!" Weiss and the barbarian lowered their weapons and took notice of Ruby. "Just... let me explain!"

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

"Geez! You could've told me that you were just looking out for her!"

"I couldn't," Jaune said as he healed Yang's arm with his aura, "you broke my jaw."

"Yeah, well, don't be so scary next time. Or kidnap people's little sisters. How would you feel?"

"I would probably do the same thing." Jaune nodded, wrapping a bandage over her arm. "Of course, I wouldn't punch them in the face."

"Guess I'm more of a risk-taker than you." Yang stuck her tongue out.

"Not to interrupt your stupidity, but why exactly did you... carry Ruby away?"

"I needed to get her alone." Jaune said, raising many eyebrows. "Uh, to get her away from anyone who might be listening to you guys. That's why I grabbed her and not her stuff."

"What did you want to tell us?" Blake asked.

Jaune opened his mouth to argue, but there was no point now. They really were a team. He held back tears as memories of JNPR came to mind. Swallowing his pride, he spoke his truth.

"Do not trust Ozpin."

#rwby #dnd #rwby dnd #barbarian jaune #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna

[depressed-fanperson]

Ok so here is my theories for Good Omens season 3

☑️More Angel Crowley flashbacks (possibly his status/name as an angel unveiled[and here are my theories on that])

☑️ “Love of My Life” by Queen as Crowley proceeds to, as Castiel put it, “I found a liquor shop. I drank it.”

☑️ Aziraphale fumbling around kinda in heaven. Like he’s just kinda really awkward up there and doesn’t really know how to do things or he just changes things to have like a couch or something idk

☑️ Muriel in the bookshop (not really a theory so much as a hope) Also Muriel finally changes her clothes (I will cry if she’s still in that all white uniform even I have limits)

☑️ Crowley going to Nina and saying “Give me Death”

☑️ The Bentley acting sad/this AMAZING post

☑️ Another kiss? Maybe? Hopefully?

☑️ a happy ending

☑️ 1941 (and possibly even more apology dances) Edit: ok so I saw this post that made me realize that 1941 was the Nazi scene and that’s probably why Aziraphale did the apology dance after the whole zombie thing but I still believe that Aziraphale is gonna do an apology dance in season 3 I feel it in my rib cage

☑️ ARCHANGEL AZIRAPHALE WITH BEARD???

☑️ this post by @ineffable-cliffhangers

☑️ I really wanna know what Neil Gaiman was talking about in this post

☑️ I am desperately hoping for this post by @feathered-serpents to happen

☑️ scenes with Aziraphale in Heaven that make you cringe with second hand embarrassment(not in a negative way more in a ‘you’re amazing and I treasure you but please don’t do that’ way)

☑️ ok but you know how Aziraphale does a super accurate drawing of Gabriel? What if he does a bunch of drawings of Crowley in heaven because he misses him so much

☑️ In season 1 we see a lot of Earth (obviously) and In season 2 we see plenty of Hell, but only a sneak peak of Heaven, so we’re definitely going to see more of Heaven, especially with Aziraphale being supreme Archangel there’s finally a reason to.

☑️what happened in Edinburgh when Crowley went to Hell?

☑️Aziraphale claims to have fooled Nefertiti, and mentions several times all the magic classes he’s been to, so maybe more history of Aziraphale and magic?

☑️ Aziraphale actually TELLING or Crowley somehow finding out that Aziraphale loves his eyes.

☑️14th Century???

☑Another reference to that 'lovely Chinese fellow' who ended up 6 feet under. I feel it in my bones.

☑️In the Shakespeare scene Crowley mentions that they’ve done the Arrangement “dozens of times before.”, so probably something in between then.

☑️God is gonna come back for narration God will come back I know she will because in s2 they were figuratively leaving the Garden and now that Azi is going back (😢) we will see more of her.

☑️CROWLEY STOPPING HIMSELF FROM CALLING AZI ANGEL

☑️Roof top scene, I swear to god there better be a roof top scene

☑️The big plane, with Jesus, and the security agents/angels; the 2nd coming. This is basically confirmed lol but I have a strong feeling that one of the Christian Big 3 will be there. (God, Jesus, Satan)

☑️In the scene where they're talking about guns and Aziraphale said that they "lends weight to a moral argument; I think.", and then Crowley snickers. He's laughing when Aziraphale says 'moral argument' and mutters it under his breath and starts walking away and Aziraphale is slightly annoyed/embarrassed and I'm sry I've started reading into everything I feel like it might have some sort of connection.

I’m going to save this and maybe add to it as time goes on then come back and fill in any checks that were right. If I’m basing any of these theories on incorrect facts or you’re confused on some of them please tell me and I’d be happy to make the corrections and further explain:).

#imma fucking die #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens season two #good omens 3 #neil gaiman #good omens headcannon #season 3 theories