#i’ve had this planned for a while now and i’ve been thinking of a royal concept since sb came out

[rinisdrawing]

the golden princess & the sorcerer prince

#fnaf #fnaf fanart #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #ruin dlc #fnaf sb #five nights at freddy's #cassie fnaf #fnaf cassie #gregory fnaf #fnaf gregory #fnaf sb royal au #aaaand here they are! the sb kiddos in my royal au concept thingy! #trying new stuff out with my style and decided to go for a painter-y look!! it was a bit of a challenge but still very fun nonetheless #i’ve had this planned for a while now and i’ve been thinking of a royal concept since sb came out #but for some reason i never really posted or talked about it… #i think it’s mostly because i thought people wouldn’t be interested but the reception on the wip for this has been incredible!! #i’ll probably post more about this concept bc i really love developing it :) #rin’s artchive #artists on tumblr

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes

Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 

Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx

Masterlist

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 

Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 

Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 

A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.

“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.

“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.

“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.

“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.

“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.

“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.

“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”

“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.

“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.

“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”

“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.

The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.

“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.

“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.

“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.

“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”

“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.

“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.

Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.

“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 

You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.

You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 

Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.

“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.

Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.

“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.

“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.

“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”

“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”

“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 

“No he’s not, why would you say that?”

“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 

You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.

You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.

He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.

“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.

“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.

“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.

“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 

The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.

Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.

“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”

When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.

“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.

“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.

“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.

“You what? You move fast, man.”

“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”

“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”

The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 

Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.

“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”

“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.

“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.

“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”

“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 

You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.

“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.

“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 

“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.

“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.

“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.

“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”

“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.

You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 

Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.

“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.

“Why would they do that?”

“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.

“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.

“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”

“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.

You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.

Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 

“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.

“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.

Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.

You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 

Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.

There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.

Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.

Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.

“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.

“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”

“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.

“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.

Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.

Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 

Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 

He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.

“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.

“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.

“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.

“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.

“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.

“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.

You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 

Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.

“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.

“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.

“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.

The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey imagine #vancouver canucks fic #vancouver canucks #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #elias pettersson

[comradekatara]

I just read your rant about zukka and it made me think what if zuko’s obsession with sokka has to do with the fact that sokka in some ways encompasses some of the traits that have been forced on Zuko since he was young like the whole killing without mercy or remorse and the need for control and the strategic thinking. But Sokka uses these skills no to try and rule the world but to help aang stop Ozai. I haven’t watched atla in a while but your analyses help me realize a lot of details that I missed about it was he characters

yeah i’ve talked before about how sokka and azula being so similar must be kind of a mindfuck for zuko because sokka has “a killer instinct that’s just so fire nation” but also he’s literally friends with the bald baby pacifist monk avatar who says shit like “do you think we could’ve been friends too?” and so zuko clearly has no idea what to think. like he and azula were both indoctrinated into this world that valued certain traits and dogmas over others (ie, sokka’s over aang’s) and so azula sees sokka as more of a threat.

it’s funny because obviously sokka and zuko’s first encounter is sokka getting his ass handed to him by a guy who doesn’t even care that he’s in his way, but also that scheme is pretty immediately disrupted by sokka’s boomerang. and then the next time they meet, sokka has actually spent time training under someone (instead of fumbling around in the dark by himself) and can now hold his own far better. and every single encounter after that sees sokka not only rising to zuko’s level, but surpassing him, fighting him, foiling his plans, advocating to leave him for dead, ignoring him, dismissing him.

even at the western air temple, sokka is the liaison who welcomes him into the group (the designated “leadership” role comes with more responsibilities than simply assassinating assassins), but he also makes it pretty clear that he doesn’t care for or trust zuko throughout “the firebending masters,” even if his manner of bullying is far less overtly malicious than katara’s. and yet, zuko cannot discount him. zuko saw him kill combustion man. zuko understands his value to the group. zuko recognizes that quality he and azula share. zuko may have had an advantage over him the first time they met, but it sure didn’t last long. if azula and zuko have anything in common, it’s a mutual respect for sokka.

like, sokka is the only member of the gaang’s name azula actually says (aang is “the avatar,” katara is “peasant,” toph is [insert blind joke here], and suki is “my favorite prisoner”) and on the day of black sun, she elects to distract sokka first and foremost knowing that he’s their “leader.” and she does clearly respect him more than most people do because she can see herself in him (at least to some extent, i don’t think either of them are actually insightful enough to realize how deep that connection truly goes) and thus can recognize his worth as someone who is in a similar position, albeit on the opposite side.

zuko does say and aang and katara’s names (and appa’s), but sokka’s name is the first he says, and it’s really the only name he uses as a mode of address. and the matter of naming is clearly important to royal heirs, who are defined by their names and titles. we see that especially when zuko confuses ursa’s “remember who you are” with “remember your ancestry,” declaring who he is not as internal identity, but as title. to afford someone the respect of addressing them by name is to implicitly demonstrate respect for them.

this is further demonstrated by the fact that unlike “you just had to pick up the glowing egg” zuko of just an episode prior, zuko really does follow sokka’s leadership and places his complete faith in his abilities. there’s no complaining or backseat driving or undermining of his intentions, which is genuinely anomalous for zuko, who generally refuses to listen to anyone about anything (unless he’s being actively scared into submission, and even then he’s stood up to ozai multiple times). he’s not outspoken in these episodes, however. he is downright docile. and it’s because he genuinely believes sokka to be his superior. which isn’t to say that sokka isn’t better than he is, but like. aang is too and he doesn’t take his knowledge into account! because aang doesn’t represent the values that zuko strove to embody his entire life.

what’s more, i would imagine there’s something kind of satisfying, if not downright intriguing, about knowing someone who basically is what you aspire to be, who you were told you must be your entire life, and seeing that he is just. absolutely fucking miserable. like azula is also miserable, but zuko doesn’t know that (yet), because she hides it better. but sokka is genuinely suicidal (especially in these episodes). meeting this idealized standard of perfection you have always failed to reach and realizing that whatever standards you once (recently) held yourself to are actually deeply unfulfilling. that sokka isn’t “perfect,” that he actually considers himself a failure. and the fact that when he does fail, he considers it the end of the world because he never built up the resilience one gets from being a normal person who doesn’t always succeed on their first try. and zuko’s like “finally, something i have that he doesn’t: intimate knowledge of what it’s like to constantly fail and underperform and disappoint people!”

zuko is really perfectly equipped to support sokka in this situation, because he idolizes him enough to provide him with the unconditional support sokka feels fundamentally undeserving of, and also understands sokka’s misery enough to give him actually meaningful advice when it matters. what’s interesting about how zuko feels about sokka is that it’s not just about uncritically putting him on a pedestal for being Nice Azula or whatever, it’s also about zuko’s genuine desire to help sokka and protect him.

yue inhabits the martyr role that sokka has always envisioned himself in, suki establishes herself as someone who is equally capable of protecting him and he can her, and zuko risks his life to support sokka on his crazy suicide mission, when sokka was so intent on going it alone because he wasn’t thinking clearly didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. sokka doesn’t need someone who treats him like an irreproachable god. in fact, i think sokka would hate nothing more than having a sycophant. he needs someone who understands that he is fallible and vulnerable and needs help like any human being does, and respects and trusts and admires him anyway.

zuko doesn’t have the capacity to recognize azula’s insecurities and shortcomings, or the desire to help her, but he does for sokka. because he never felt like he was in a position where he had to compete for something against him. he’s not trying to usurp sokka’s role as “leader” (except for whatever was going on in “sozin’s comet,” but that’s for another post) and is happy to simply follow him, in a way that is genuinely uncharacteristic for him.

and you can say that it’s because zuko is gay and stupid (which wouldn’t be wrong, per se), but it’s also because sokka embodies everything zuko ever thought he had to be. and it’s because sokka doesn’t even care. it’s the recognition that one person’s idealized model of behavior is another’s burden. that if zuko had been “perfect” like sokka, he never would’ve gained the wisdom to accept defeat and not let it deter him. perfect like azula, who, like sokka, shatters in the face of failure.

zuko says as much in “the siege of the north,” and again in “the western air temple.” the fact that he isn’t a prodigy, the fact that he “had to struggle and fight” to achieve what little he has, is “what made me who i am.” so he’ll respect sokka, of course, because sokka is who he wished for so long that he could be. but he’ll also support sokka, because he has just enough distance from the situation to recognize that he’s not an island (even if sokka himself is convinced that he must be). so it’s not obsession, per se, nor is it simply uncritical admiration that confuses excellence for infallibility. it’s unconditional support born of understanding, a sort of empathy. it’s devotion.

#xxzavier42 #asks #sokka #zuko #azula #sokkaxzuko #azula&sokka #azula&zuko #analysis #at some point i gotta stop saying ‘whoops i wrote way more than i thought i would!!! teehee’ #and recognize that this is simply my modus operandi #i love to ramble …. lol #also when i call sokka the ‘leader’ its with the caveat that I think the designation of leadership is kind of flawed #but that’s definitely how azula and zuko see it #and in the most traditional sense that’s what he is #but not always. #i need to finish and post my essay on katara and sokka gifted kidism…. #anyway. zucchini good 👍🏼

[zinya]

Obey me MC have an existential crisis

Hi, sorry I have lots of exams at the moment so writing is not an absolute priority. I've been thinking about this one for a while but I don't know if we can call it Headcanons, maybe more of a little Scenario. I can't find a good title apart from an MC who was originally a scientist, I myself am a future geneticist and I must admit that if I were to fall into devildom with magic it would make me ask a lot of questions .I am not an expert in religion so I apologize in advance for any confusion or inconsistencies I find, the goal being not to insult or offend anyone.

Mc at the table with all the boys :

Mammon- "Yo human you could respond when the Great Mammon speaks to you! What's going on for you to be in the moon like that?"

Mc- “Well when I was in the human world I planned to become a scientist later, But now I think it's falling through "

Satan "Why? I can always find you books on this theme if you want to continue studying it."

Asmo “That’s true, no matter where you are, you have to do what you like.”

Mc "That's not the problem, I brought back lots of my manuals the last time we went to the human world with Barbatos but it's just that if I stay here what I know best to do will be not of much use...."

Lucifer: “What do you mean by that?”

Mc-"Well, is the theory of evolution really correct? Or is it God who created us? There really was Noé ( Sorry I only know the name in French ) and an ark who saved an male and a female from each species because in this case the genetic diversity should have made all the species die "

“And then I thought, but if we get married, darling, my father-in-law is God? And if we have children, is God their grandpa? "

"Then I don't see any useful profession, if we want to know the origin of life I'm practically certain that Barbatos will find me the book at the royal library in the blink of an eye, I can't even do chemistry because yours is done with magic formulas. Even beauty products are made like that "

"I couldn't be a doctor, demons don't heal like we do and not as often.

All this to say that what I learned during more than 2/5 of my life should be thrown in the trash here."

Levi- "I've had existential crises before, but one like this...."

Lucifer “It’s true that I’ve never taken the trouble to think about that, I wouldn’t do it at Diavolo to see if it can be done, it would be a real waste to throw away so much knowledge I'm sure Diavolo and Barbatos could ask you to write down what you know when the exchange program will gain momentum we should be able to take care of humans ”

Satan "If you want, I would like you to teach me more about your classes, if you can talk about it with someone, that will always be the case and I might be able to answer your questions."

Mammon "Don't worry about that, you're great, funny, intelli- Finally what I mean is that it's normal for humans to be more useless but don't worry, The Great Mammon will help ya "

Asmo - "Honey, don't worry, your knowledge is very useful, the cosmetics of the human world have nothing to envy of our world, they are sometimes even better... too bad I can't have more.... "

Belphie "Maybe Solomon can help you better than us after all even if it's hard to see he's human "

Levi - “Then in science you also sometimes do a little computer science and programming for video games,You rarely get lost and always offer me a good solutions when I can't fix the WiFi."

Mc- "Thank you boys, that's nice, don't worry, it was just a thought like any other, and learning magic is pretty fun too "

Beel * Nod and eat *

I don't know who the drawing comes from if you have your name/account don't hesitate to tell me , As always sorry for the spelling mistakes I don't speak this language originally.

Really sorry for Beel but I really imagine him eating and nodding when the brothers try to find solutions and Belphi who watches him so he doesn't eat the others' and MC's plates when she speaks 😭

Passer une bonne journée 💙💛💜💚🩷💜🧡

#obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me shall we date #obeyme beelzebub #obeyme mammon #obey me #obey me belphie #obeyme belphegor #obey me solomon #obey barbatos #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me memes #obey me mc #obeyme headcanons

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

A Companion (Otto Hightower x Reader) - Prologue

I've finally jumped on the Peepaw Hightower writing train, instead of just enjoying the fics of others! What can I say, I love that old man.

So this is gonna be like a mini-series, I think? I don't really have a definite plan, but there's definitely a decent plot planned out.

Without further ado, here's the summary and a little prologue!

Summary: At the suggestion of Princess Rhaenyra, King Viserys Targaryen had commanded that his Hand, Otto Hightower, find a new bride. Preferably at the King's own wedding to Otto's daughter Alicent. While the Princess intended the suggestion as a form of revenge for Otto's machinations which led to the royal engagement, he intends to make the best of it. While he has always known that his late wife, Madelyn, is the great love of his life, he welcomes the idea of finding a tolerable companion. What he doesn't expect is you, a lady widowed far too young, who begins to spark feelings within him he thought long extinguished.

Prologue under the cut!

Prologue

The sight of Princess Rhaenyra in the Small Council chamber came as quite a surprise to Otto Hightower. In the weeks since her father announced his pending marriage, her attendance as the King’s Cupbearer had become sporadic at best. While her presence was surprising, it was nothing unusual enough to prompt any concern.

However, the twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she took the seat across from him began a knot of worry in Otto’s chest.

“Will Lord Strong and the other members of the Small Council not be joining us this afternoon, my King?” he asked as he took his seat.

Viserys smiled, a similar note of mischief in his eyes that Otto had not seen in decades – since they were both young men. “Not today, old friend. I’ve not called you here on any official business.”

“This is a personal matter,” Rhaenyra chimed in, her voice light and airy with glee. Any resemblance between her and her father was long gone. Now, she was undoubtedly Prince Daemon’s niece, much to Otto’s eternal unease and frustration.

Had Alicent also been present, it would have been easy to assume he was called to discuss some detail of the marriage contract. But she was not, and this was starting to feel decidedly like an ambush.

“It has been nearly two years now since Madelyn left us,” Viserys began. “And you have not remarried.”

“Your Grace, that is because I have no reason to remarry,” Otto replied, keeping his voice soft and diplomatic even as he began to feel a wave of anger rising within him. The suggestion in the king’s words was clear. “I have an heir in Gwayne, though what he will inherit is small. And I have no desire for a new wife.”

It was more than true. At Madelyn’s funeral, he had said farewell to the great love of his life. She had been a gift from the gods, a blessing he could never understand why he deserved. Surely to seek to replace her would be an affront to that blessing.

“But you are the Hand of the King,” Rhaenyra looked downright impish now. “For you to remain a widower after so long, when you are still relatively young, projects weakness, does it not? A strategic marriage could strengthen the realm.”

Damn the girl, even if it was treason to think it. Were she not so impulsive and stubborn, he would have no doubts about her one day becoming Queen. But this…? This was childish and petty, to throw his own words back at him. Where had she even heard them?

“And since your duties do not allow you to travel the realm to find a bride,” Rhaenyra continued, “the royal wedding will be the perfect opportunity for you to find a suitable young lady. Don’t you agree, my Lord Hand?”

This was revenge, then, Otto realized, for Alicent. Well, at least she was taking her anger out on him rather than his daughter.

He turned back to Viserys. “What is your opinion on the matter, my King?”

The king, at least, looked at him with enough fondness to quell his rising anger. “Aemma was the love of my life, Otto. But I am fond of Alicent and know she will make me happy. I would wish the same for you.” He looked to Rhaenyra, who was grinning with unabashed triumph, then back again. “I know your children would not wish to see you alone for the rest of your life.”

Otto’s greatest weakness was his affection for his children and king. And Rhaenyra had manipulated it perfectly. He could not deny Viserys this request – not after having guided his hand when it came to Alicent.

And though the thought of replacing Madelyn was abhorrent, when he truly considered it, he could not deny that he had missed the pleasure of… companionship. With Gwayne so often in Oldtown or elsewhere for tourneys and Alicent soon to be busy with her duties as Queen, Otto would be quite alone.

Though he often wished for solitude when his duties threatened to overwhelm him, the thought of being alone, with no one to greet him at the end of the day or to share his meals… was decidedly unpleasant.

So, Otto turned back to Rhaenyra, holding her gaze with the confidence of his determination to not allow this to be revenge but, hopefully, another blessing. At the very least, he would find someone with whom he could have a pleasant life.

“Then, Princess, I believe it is a wonderful idea, and I thank you for its suggestion.”

#otto hightower #otto hightower fanfiction #otto hightower fanfic #otto hightower x reader #otto hightower x you #house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fic #rhys ifans #hotd otto #house of the dragon otto #A Companion

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Cold Winter Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 凛冬之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Translation under the cut]

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

[anika’s notes]: I do very very very highly recommend to watch the video for full immersion + absolute god-level voice acting + the gorgeous music pieces!!! ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

—

【Prologue】

I behold  My homeland disappear in the daylight, and emerge in the night.  I behold  The everlasting power engrain within the vast blood of my people.  I behold  A snow-white rose bloom in the winter,   And I behold as it withers in the winter – each petal sailing across the ocean,  To a kingdom no one can reach. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 1】

As the night gradually deepens, the heavy curtains in front of the window are drawn by the attendants, veiling the silvery, meandering moonlight. 

I take a deep breath and push open the doors to the royal bedchamber engraved with a luxurious imperial coat of arms. 

Inside the bedchamber, my newly wedded husband, King Victor, is fast asleep. 

Not long ago, at the behest of my father, Duke William, I was betrothed to Victor.  

Regrettably, before the ceremony could be held, my parents died of ailing health. 

However, the wedding was not delayed due to the unexpected tragedy, and the ceremony proceeded as scheduled, with the Church as witness. 

After all, to those people, what mattered the most was not the protagonists of the wedding, but the wedding ceremony itself. 

–– That’s right, it’s not just me; even the king, Victor, is not held with significance in their eyes. 

After all, it’s known to everyone in the capital that the royal family’s influence is eroding with each passing year. And since Victor succeeded to the throne, he remains in a coma all year round and is merely a puppet in the hands of the Church and nothing more. 

The elusive fragrance of beeswax pervades the air in the room. I step on the soft woolen carpet and draw closer to the bedside. [1] 

Lately, the capital has been shrouded in a haze of doubts and suspicion regarding the disappearance cases, and it was not the appropriate time for grandeur. Therefore, after the hasty wedding, I was ushered into the imperial palace. 

And tonight marks the third night I’m spending alongside His Majesty, the King, who’s been in a state of perennial coma. 

Victor is still in a deep slumber. 

The light from a few candles illuminates one side of his profound features, while the lingering shadows dance across his face as if with fondness. 

Throughout the generations, the kings have always been in robust health. But during Victor’s reign, his health has been continuously plagued with illness. 

It seems even the gods cannot bear to be too cruel to him. His illness has only brought a touch of frailty but has not marred his looks. 

I inhale softly and sit on the edge of the bed, propping my chin up as I gaze at Victor in his slumber. 

MC: ...why are you still sleeping? 

I’ve already started to grow accustomed to this— the bedchamber echoing only my own whispered monologues. 

MC: I thought the Church was so wary of you because you had some secrets that were unknown to the outsiders.

MC: Now it seems your biggest secret is that you were born this good-looking. 

I crack a joke to myself, which also lightens my mood considerably. 

MC: When I think about it this way, being married to you is far better than being forced by the Church to marry one of those evil, rotten old men. 

In addition, within the palace, at least, there are no hypocritical relatives and those ever-watchful eyes— 

I have enough space to contemplate my plan for revenge. 

MC: Revenge... revenge...  MC: But how can I go about taking revenge on the Church... 

Clutching a corner of Victor’s blanket, I cover my face with it in anguish. 

The Church conspired to murder my parents. 

Because my father was a leader of the reformist faction, they extended their malicious hands targeting my family. 

And this marriage, which was arranged by my parents, is now being wielded as a means to threaten my life. 

As I ponder on this, the resentment in my heart swells. I heave a sigh, deciding to change my mood and say something interesting. 

I sporadically recount some happy and entertaining anecdotes from the past, treating Victor as a well-behaved “sleeping beauty doll.”

MC: ...in autumn, you know, there wasn’t much to do. Winter, in comparison, was way more fun.  MC: When I was young, what I loved doing the most was building little snowmen in the courtyard of the duke’s mansion after it snowed. Look, I could make them this big— 

Of course, Victor can’t see any of this, and there’s no hope for a response either. After mustering the spirit to prattle on for a while, all I am left with is endless emptiness. 

I tug at the corners of my lips, forcing a smile, and as if driven by some strange impulse, I reach out and poke Victor’s face, wishing to get him to have the same expression as me. 

MC: Sigh, it’s no fun. I won’t say anything more.  ??(Victor): Why won’t you say anything more? 

An icy voice suddenly sounds in my ears, carrying with it the raspiness of just being awakened. 

I turn my head and nearly let out a scream. 

MC: Y-Your Majesty... when did you...! [2] 

I’m not sure when, but Victor has regained consciousness at some point. Leaning on a soft pillow, he rubs his temple with one hand.

Victor: I’m conscious, not revived back to life. 

MC: ... I’ll sincerely obey Your Majesty’s command! 

In a low voice, I respectfully offer him a curtsy. Victor seems to find my behavior amusing, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Victor: The term of address was “you” even just a moment ago. A certain someone changed her tune rather quickly. [3]    MC: I’m not “a certain someone,” I am...    Victor: I know, Duke William’s only daughter.    MC: [surprised] Eh...? 

Victor: At the age of seven, you received a scolding for building a snowman with the servants. When you were nine, you had a quarrel with a parrot and suffered a crushing defeat–– 

MC: Wait a minute, you... you heard all of that? 

Victor: You’re too noisy. It’d be hard not to hear, [breaks into a coughing fit] cough, cough... 

His words are cut off by a cough. I hastily pour a cup of water and offer it to him under his scrutinizing gaze, keeping silent. 

I can’t help but break into a cold sweat. 

Could it be that... all the past events I casually mentioned, all those self-deprecating remarks, and even... did he really listen to everything? 

But, two days ago, when I plucked up the courage to poke his face, he didn’t react at all... So, when did he actually become conscious? 

A vague, looming sense of oppression involuntarily makes me shrink my neck, and I tentatively open my mouth. 

MC: ...you know about everything regarding me? 

He tilts his jaw slightly upwards, studying my features. His eyes are submerged in the shadows cast by the candlelight, reminiscent of a predator in the dark night. 

A good while passes before he eventually accepts the cup, speaking in a tone that is neither amiable nor impassive. 

Victor: I do. 

I nod and, after a rapid mental calculation, make up my mind. I take a step forward, wearing a small smile on my face as I speak. 

MC: Including the fact that I was sent as a spy by the Church? 

Victor: [seemingly chokes on water] … 

Victor: Are you aware of what you’re saying?

MC: Yes, I’m aware. 

I wish to work together with the king to bring down the Church. 

And when working with a person like Victor, being transparent and honest is the first principle.

I crouch down at the edge of the bed, looking up at Victor from below. 

MC: Your Majesty, I don’t want to hide anything from you. 

MC: Prior to our nuptials, my parents were brutally attacked by the Church due to their advocacy for the reformation of the Church. 

MC: The Church, to exploit my worth, spared my life and assigned me to spy on you. 

Victor arches an eyebrow, clearly still assessing the credibility of my words. 

Victor: Continue. 

I press my lips together and lower my head, trying to convey my utmost sincerity. 

MC: ... I’m unsure of to what extent you know about me, but I’ve never once considered surrendering to the enemies who murdered my parents. 

MC: Now, in terms of both sentiment and reason, we are a family, and I cannot betray my husband. 

MC: So... Your Majesty, will you take me under your wings? 

I blink my eyes at him with a pitiful look, not knowing whether Victor would buy into it. 

Victor: … 

As if in need of a moment to compose himself, Victor seems to momentarily avert his eyes before he turns them back to me again. 

Victor: Family... you seem to have accepted your new identity quite readily. 

MC: Besides you, what else do I have to rely on? 

MC: On the contrary, even after hearing my confession, if you’re unwilling to help me, I don’t have anything to lose. 

I flutter my eyes at Victor. 

MC: Your Majesty, I’ve already got nothing left to lose. 

Victor holds a straight gaze on me. In his eyes, while there is finally a hint of recognition, it’s more as if he is peering into the past through me. 

Victor: ...I will help you. 

His well-defined hand sweeps my loose hair strands back for me. But before I can breathe a sigh of relief, the next second, my chin is cupped and pivoted to face him. 

Victor: The prerequisite is that you can offer sufficient value to me. 

His grip is surprisingly strong for someone who has just regained consciousness. As our eyes interlock, his penetrating gaze intently scrutinizes my innermost thoughts. 

Victor: In your eyes, your husband, whom you’d never met before, is nothing more than a puppet who remains in coma year-round, isn’t that right? 

Victor unfolds his hand to me, revealing a gem as vividly red as the human heart in his pallid palm, and then he encloses his hand— 

In the blink of an eye, the signs of illness are shed off his face, and a rosy hue colors his cheeks, and he seems to be bathed in a divine light. 

MC: This is... do you know witchcraft?! 

Victor places the gem back in its case, then casts a brief look in my direction, apparently turning a deaf ear to what I’ve said. 

Victor: This doesn’t concern you. 

He slowly curls his lips, and his pupils, akin to the deep sea in the darkness, are as profound and enigmatic. 

Victor: There’s a set of clothing on the bedside table. If you want to prove that you’re not just a noble canary— 

Victor: Tomorrow morning, change into it and accompany me out of the palace. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[1] Beeswax is often considered a symbol of “eternal love” in Eastern cultures. 

[2+3] During her monologues in the 1st quarter of the date, MC was addressing Victor by “你” (informal ver. of ‘you’) pronoun. But the moment he butts in, i.e., gains consciousness, MC immediately switches to “您” (courteous/ respectful ver. of ‘you’) and the respectful address “Your Majesty,” which he teases her about here, haha. 

Point to be noted: MC doesn’t switch back to the informal terms of addresses until the 3rd chapter of the date, when they’re already in love and inseparable for the time being. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

While I’m still struggling with myself, Victor has already closed his eyes again. 

Victor: You can sleep anywhere you want; just don’t make any noise. 

MC: ...Yes, Your Majesty! 

The idea of having this mysterious and aloof king sleeping next to my pillow feels more chilling to me than freezing in the cold itself. 

I don’t hesitate at all. I swiftly grab a pillow from the bed and get prepared to spend the night on the sofa. 

But it turns out I actually overestimated my ability to withstand the cold. Before the clock hands have even moved a few notches, I quietly tiptoe back to the bed, hugging the pillow. 

MC: [to herself] It’s just that the weather is too cold. I just want to feel a bit nice and warm— 

With a huff, I murmur in a soft voice and gently lift the coverlet to slip inside. 

Once I’ve got my body settled comfortably, I cautiously look towards the person on the pillow next to me. 

Victor isn’t awakened by my movements. Even in the darkness of the night, his skin is luminously white, his features handsome— he is reminiscent of a sculpture crafted from snow. 

Considering this person’s track record of feigning sleep, I simply watch him quietly without making any more rash moves. 

As I continue watching like this, my mind inexplicably begins to wander. 

Although just moments ago, I kept addressing him as “my husband” repeatedly, when I look at Victor’s cold and handsome demeanor, I always find it difficult to connect him with that identity. 

In my impression, the image of a husband and wife is like that of my parents. So, in the future, will Victor and I also be joined at the hip and inseparable like that? 

Thinking about that reserved and unsmiling face, I can’t help but get chills. 

In his eyes, I seem to be nothing more than a “useful person.” But what value can I provide for him? 

The more I ponder, the more my head throbs, and it’s not until the horizon starts to turn slightly pale that I eventually drift into sleep. 

────────── 

With the break of dawn, I promptly get out of bed and change my attire. Victor has woken up as well. 

Seemingly noticing the dark circles under my eyes, he arches an eyebrow, lifts his hand, and tosses a cloak over to me. 

Victor: It seems like while your courage is not at all small, your confidence sure is lacking. 

MC: I just don’t wish to unnecessarily show off in front of you. 

I fasten the cloak tightly and purposely straighten my neck. 

MC: Your Majesty, please lead the way. 

We exit the palace through a small gate, cross through the commoner’s district, and Victor leads me straight into a small house. 

────────── 

Going from the small house into the cellar, and after navigating through a labyrinth of winding pathways, the cramped field of view suddenly opens up to a wide panorama. 

Everyone: Your Majesties. 

I never anticipated that the entire hall would actually be filled with guards, all standing in a perfectly ordered formation. 

— To pull together an assembly of so many armed personnel, Victor must have spent a substantial amount of time, hasn’t he? 

I’m hardly able to restrain my inner shock as I think back to the frequent news in recent years of nobles associated with the close-knit sects being removed from power or inexplicably meeting tragic ends. Now, it seems... 

Every single person, myself included, severely underestimated this “dying” king standing before me. 

At this moment, Victor picks something up from the long table, and it’s only now do I notice that there are all kinds of torture equipment laid out on the table. 

The appearance of these torture instruments is menacing, and at their tips, dried blood remnants are still visible. 

Practically, the moment I get a good look at them, the reeking of blood and rust assaults my nostrils. I subconsciously cover my nose and mouth, tightly gripping the cuff of my sleeve. 

Subordinate: Reporting to Your Majesty, these are the “refining” equipment we found at the scene. 

Subordinate: But those people are as cautious as rats at dusk; we’ve only found these pieces of material evidence so far. The remains of the blood sacrifice are still being sought. 

Victor nods calmly, and once the arrangements are made, the guards depart in an orderly manner through various secret passageways. 

Victor and I are the only ones remaining in the large hall. I make a conscious effort to restrain myself from looking at those torture instruments, regulating the rhythm of my breathing. 

MC: Your Majesty, did you bring me here to witness something so horrifying to disclose some kind of truth to me? 

Victor: Face has turned pale, but still got some courage. 

A smile tinged with what appears to be praise appears on his face, as he takes out from his bosom the gem that resembles a human heart from last night. 

The crimson light radiating from the gem spreads across his cheeks, eerie yet bewitching. 

Victor: The purpose of all these blood sacrifices is to provide energy for this “Blood King Crystal.” 

My eyes widen in incredulity as I stare at the pulsating vivid red in his hand, sensing a faint inkling of what it might signify. 

MC: When you hold this Blood King Crystal, your complexion appear rosier, and you don’t cough as much... 

MC: Could it be that the Church officials want to extract energy from commoners to enhance their physical strength? 

Victor: Not the Church; it’s the Royal Family. 

Victor doesn’t shy away from nodding his head. He stares fixedly at the red gem that provides him with strength, but in his eyes, there is only icy coldness. 

Victor: The vitality and longevity of successive kings across the dynasties were all due to their possession of the “Blood King Crystals” that were assembled from the lives of countless ordinary people. 

Victor: The Church refines it, and the Royal Family uses it, thus resulting in the Royal Family being controlled by the Church from then on. 

Victor: And anyone who uncovers this secret will die. 

My thoughts go back to my parents, as well as the reformist cabinet ministers— could it be that they all had...? 

My heart immediately falls into a valley. 

I close my eyes for a moment, then fix my gaze firmly on the unwavering king before me, a king who has endured extreme hardships and made sacrifices to stand where he is now. [4] 

MC: Your Majesty, currently, there is a significant following of the Church among the populace. We must find the evidence of the blood sacrifices and bring it to light for everyone to see. 

MC: I will carry on my parents’ legacy and work alongside you to find evidence of the Church’s blood sacrifices. 

In those forever serene eyes of Victor’s, I see the glint of a smile. 

Victor: [assuredly with obvious happiness] It appears you’ve perfectly inherited the chivalry and wisdom of Duke William. 

MC: Well... it’s not entirely that. Whether in public or private matters, it’s only right that I stand by your side. 

I wink at him, half-jokingly breaking the somewhat somber atmosphere. 

MC: After all, I’m not only the daughter of Duke William. I am your wife and, more importantly, the queen of this country. 

Victor: Is that right? It doesn’t seem to me that a certain someone possesses the temperament of a queen. 

MC: Regarding that... I will work hard, so you can’t keep teasing me all the time. 

Victor laughs in spite of himself and reaches out his hand, gesturing for me to take his arm. 

Victor: [laughs helplessly] Very well. My Queen, we should return now. 

────────── 

After coming out of the subterranean passageway, we follow the same path back. We were in a hurry when we came here. It’s only now do I take notice of the surroundings. 

In the nearby roadside, peddlers are selling fresh produce, while in the distant square, a group of less fortunate are circled around a fire, warming themselves and singing songs. 

The streets in the commoner’s district are intersected, narrow, poverty-stricken yet bustling with life, in stark contrast to the overwhelming dead silence of the royal palace. 

I hardly ever left the mansion, so I find myself unable to resist taking in the surroundings repeatedly. 

Victor: Does the Duke’s daughter find these things interesting? 

MC: ...no, no, I’m just looking around in passing, that’s all! 

Victor’s hand offhandedly adjusts a corner of my cloak. He takes a long stride, veering from the route back to the palace and heading in a different direction. 

Victor: That path is too narrow. Let’s stroll this way and get some fresh air. 

We slowly stroll along, taking in the surroundings as we walk. Not far ahead, there is a dilapidated small tavern. Victor gestures for me to take a look. 

Victor: I just suddenly recalled that you mentioned being curious when you were little and licking the snow with a fork. 

Victor: During winter, the iron cups in the tavern also have an element of sweetness. You should try it some other time. 

My scattered thoughts, fluttering around like wild and untamed grass, suddenly drop to the ground, and I can’t help but choke. 

MC: ...Your Majesty, are you teasing me? 

There is a slight curve at the tip of Victor’s brow as he gently curls the corners of his lips into a smile. 

Victor: [laughs softly] Perhaps I am, or perhaps, it is a sincere recommendation. 

MC: Could it be that you’ve drawn that conclusion after experiencing it firsthand? 

Victor: You could say that. 

Seeing him take the bait, a massive smile spreads across my face. 

MC: So, speaking of, does that mean that you’ve also stuck your tongue to an iron cup in the past? 

Victor seems to choke on his words for a moment. He shoots me a wordless look and walks forward, paying no mind to me. 

MC: [teasingly continues] So, did that really happen? Did it happen or not... 

We’ve almost circled the area surrounding the palace. Victor is tall and has long legs, but from the beginning, he has maintained a matching pace with me, making it so that I can always touch his shoulder by simply turning sideways. 

The weather is very cold today; my hands and feet are freezing, yet I deeply breathe in the bitingly chilly but liberating air. 

Even though I cannot purchase any dubious items to bring back to the palace, and even though I know the end of this path leads to the imperial palace that holds me captive— 

But perhaps because I have someone walking alongside me, I feel surprisingly at ease. 

In my sight, obscured by the chilling breeze, I see Victor squatting down and petting a skinny kitten at the corner of the alley. 

The cat stretches its body and lays down lazily under Victor’s hand, meowing. Victor smiles, and both of them then look at me together. 

Victor: [extremely softly] The winters in the future won’t be as chilling anymore. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[4] The idiom used here is “越王勾践,” which came to life from the true story of King Goujian. I’d encourage you guys to just even google and see the small wiki on him if you can. This idiom in and of itself is the essence of the date in terms of Victor’s perseverance, and how he imposes suffering on himself for the constant reminder of what it is he’s fighting for by refusing to use the “Blood King Crystal.” 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Victor soon announces the news of him regaining consciousness to the masses, sending waves of shock to everyone across the country. 

Amidst the reigning turmoil among the Church and the nobles, he proposes visiting the prominent noble households. 

In my capacity as the queen, I rightfully visit every noble residence with him, where we find numerous correspondences implicating the collusion between the nobles and the Church. 

The nobles kept the letters for the purpose of blackmailing the Church, both sides engaging in mutual exploitation, but they never once considered that there could be one day when they’d have to face the consequences. 

Using the letters as a starting point, a series of pivotal evidence regarding the Church’s blood sacrifice is unearthed through Victor’s thunderous methods. 

I, on the other hand, use my identity as an orphan of the reformers to help him win over the newly elevated nobles. More and more people begin to rally to our side... 

When a former subordinate of my father hands me a letter, as if in tacit agreement, both Victor and I simultaneously realize that the final piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. 

It’s about time for the verdict to be pronounced. 

────────── 

Tomorrow, Victor will convene a National Convention to expose the crimes of the Church to the masses. 

I can’t fall asleep, so I rise from the bed and pace around the bed chamber in my nightgown. 

Victor: [laughs helplessly] If memory serves me right, the person set to address tomorrow is not the queen; it’s the king. 

He is lying in bed with drowsy eyes. Turning towards me, he speaks in a low, raspy voice, infused with a teasing tone. 

MC: ...I didn’t realize I’d wake you up despite the carpet being so thick. I guess I’ll just go outside and sleep elsewhere. 

As I drape on my outer garment and am about to head outside the chamber, my wrist is suddenly gripped from behind, pulling me back onto the bed. 

Victor: [in an overwhelmingly sensual tone] You’re the queen. Where do you plan on sleeping when you look like this? 

Tangled up in my thoughts, I have tousled my hair, causing it to become disheveled. Victor sighs, who then picks up a comb and sits behind me. 

Victor: [switches to an overwhelmingly tender tone] Dummy. What is there to be nervous about? 

The moderate pressure on my hair pacifies my restless heart. I rub my ears, which have heated up, trying to shift the topic of conversation to conceal my shyness. 

MC: In the past, when my father would go to visit the king, my mother would become anxious like this and often wouldn’t even be able to eat anything. 

Victor: So, what would happen next? I’m afraid the duke probably wouldn’t let his duchess remain in a constant state of worry. 

MC: Mm-hmm. Whenever this kind of situation arose, my father would always hold my mother’s hand... 

As I speak, I immediately begin to regret it a little. It feels like I’m sending a rather awkward hint. 

Without waiting for me to dwell on more embarrassing thoughts, Victor’s hand has already enveloped mine, and the warmth from his palm flows to my icy fingertips. 

His temperature is reminiscent of dandelions in a garden, floating gently, landing on my face and neck. 

We are the puppet king and queen, husband and wife in name only. Even though we reside together in the same bedchamber, we’ve never been this intimate. 

I feel a sensation as if a feather quill is caressing my throat, making it impossible for me to conceal the true feelings harbored in my heart. 

Reflexively, I tighten my grip on Victor’s hand and turn to face him. 

MC: Victor, to be honest, even though I never mentioned it before, I used to think you were quite unfeeling. 

Victor: There was no need to say it; it was written all over your face. 

Victor: Also, not addressing me as “Your Majesty” anymore? 

MC: In any case, you are not going to hold it against me now, will you? 

MC: During this period of time that I’ve spent with you, running here and there together, I’ve come to realize in every passing moment that I hardly knew anything about you before. 

MC: For instance, in the case of those Church henchmen, according to the old laws, their families should have been exterminated, but you chose to exercise your discretion and grant amnesty to those who were unaware. 

MC: And regarding the commoners who have fallen victim to the blood sacrifice, you’ve been supporting their families with long-term financial aid. 

MC: You always project an image of keeping people at a thousand-mile distance, but in reality, there is also a tender side to you. 

A flicker of astonishment crosses Victor’s eyes, but he simply tightens his grip on my hand. 

Victor: [with a very evident hesitation in his tone] It sounds like... getting to know me is something that brings you joy? 

MC: Yes, it does. I wish to know you even better— the past you, the present you, and the future you. 

I gaze deeply into his eyes. 

MC: But you’re so encumbered by everything. I can only utilize the little time you set aside for me each day to learn about you amidst the calls of the people. 

Victor: ...MC. 

Victor’s eyes tighten, and a heartfelt and regretful emotion swirls within them. 

MC: I don’t wish to rob you of your time because of my selfish desires. 

MC: So, after the National Convention concludes, and when you’re no longer so busy... 

I draw in a breath, low and slow. And like that, just like the first time I met him, I lay bare all my yearnings and affections before him. 

MC: Reserve some time for me, will you? Not in your role as the king, but as my husband. Share your stories with me. 

MC: Will you, Victor? 

All my thoughts translate into clumsy words, pouring out like the way winter grass eagerly awaits spring rain, confessing everything I have in me. 

Victor continues gazing at me like this, until that gaze of his becomes infused with almost sorrow and a reluctance to part. 

Before I can decipher those cryptic code words, he has already cast his eyes downward, veiling the emotions within. 

Is this a silent rejection? I exert myself to force a smile, intending to crack a joke to ease the situation, but then he speaks first. 

Victor: [if a person’s voice alone could shatter one’s heart, I swear this would be it] There’s no need to wait till later. Let’s do it now. 

In astonishment and jubilation, I look up, locking eyes with his sincere gaze. 

On the night before the pivotal moment in destiny, I finally witness Victor’s wordless confession. 

────────── 

The following day, the National Convention proceeds as scheduled. 

Attired in royal robes, Victor stands at the forefront. Below the platform, countless eyes, some treacherous and others devout, are all converged on him. 

Victor: In my capacity as the king, I stand here only to declare one thing. 

Victor: The mysterious disappearances in the capital over the years have all been caused by the Church. 

The earth-shattering statement stirs up a commotion among the people, and the followers of the Church appear visibly unsettled. 

Victor: The Church extracts energy for the “Blood King Crystal” through the massacre of civilians in blood sacrifice rituals. 

Victor: As for the particulars, I will leave it to the Knight Commander to elucidate. 

The attendants toss numerous sheets of paper into the crowd off the platform, each containing records of clear and unmistakable evidence. 

In a matter of moments, the crowd transitions from initial silence to restlessness, ultimately erupting into an agitated uproar. 

It turns out that the matter of the true culprit behind the disappearance cases has been an enduring emotional anchor for the people, completely overturning everyone’s cognition. 

Some hurling curses, some wailing, and some even charging to express their scorn at the Church... 

Amidst the chaos, only Victor’s voice, his calm and powerful words, continues forward with a steady resolve. 

Crowd: Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! 

As the chants and shouts cease and amid the furious uproar of the crowd, the Pope, who is ringed, calmly casts a glance in Victor’s direction. 

The Pope: Silence. Dear Compatriots. 

The elderly Pope walks slowly to the center of the platform, an inscrutable and chilling smile playing on the layers of wrinkles on his face. 

The Pope: His Majesty speaks the truth. The Church does indeed extract energy for the “Blood King Crystal,” and the blood sacrifice of civilians has truly occurred. 

The Pope: However, all these casualties and deaths stemmed from the demands of the royal family! 

The Pope: Throughout history, every king has relied on the “Blood King Crystal” to survive, and even our righteous and dignified king, His Majesty, is using it at this very moment! 

The Pope: The very purpose of the “Blood King Crystal’s” existence is to secure the longevity of the king. Without a king, who will lead the country? How can the kingdom have a future? 

The Pope raises the scepter high, directing it towards Victor. 

The Pope: Your Majesty, the Church has been faithful and devoted to the Crown for all these years. As you pronounce judgment on the Church’s sins today, do you not feel a sense of guilt? 

The wrath of the masses below the platform has no outlet after his manipulative and distorted speech, and their eyes shift to Victor. 

Silent inquiries and judgments flood the eyes of the crowd, prepared to tear everything to shreds at any second. 

The noble king, however, has maintained his impassive demeanor from the beginning. He lapses into a moment of silence, gazing into my eyes. 

Amid the scrutiny of the spectators below, I lock my eyes with him, and in that gaze, I see the very same expression of unwillingness to part that I wasn’t able to discern last night. 

But at this moment, I seem to understand its meaning. 

Holding back the bitterness in my eyes, I take a step forward and speak in a loud voice. 

MC: What the Pope said is true. The kings of the previous dynasties colluded with the Church for their personal gains, resulting in the slaughtering of civilians. 

MC: However, the Blood King Crystal has never been a precious treasure, but rather a curse. 

MC: As each king became more reliant on it, the health of the royal descendants suffered increasing repercussions, which led to an even deeper dependence on the Church. 

MC: His Majesty has been working tirelessly to put an end to these nefarious activities, solely for the sake of the future of this country. 

MC: As for the Blood King Crystal... 

I close my eyes, my eloquent speech coming to an abrupt halt. This elicits puzzled murmurs from the crowd off the platform.  

At this time, Victor walks to the forefront of the stage. 

He retrieves the vivid red gem from his bosom, and the blinding luster falls on his chest, projecting an image as if blood were coursing through. 

Victor: Behold, the Blood King Crystal. 

Before anyone can comprehend, Victor swiftly exerts a slight force with his fingertips, and the Blood King Crystal instantly disintegrates into fine fragments in his hand. 

Pope: You...!! 

Countless crimson red powder, reminiscent of blood, streams out from between his fingers, and his complexion has already turned a shade of pallor. 

The elixir of immortality, amassed from the sacrifice of countless human lives across generations of kings, the venomous sac upon which the Church depends for survival, has been completely eradicated before the eyes of everyone. 

Victor: Those deserving of being brought to reckoning, not a single person will be spared. 

Victor: That includes the Church, as well as the Royal family. 

He unfurls the hand that holds the Blood King Crystal. His palm now only holds a thin layer of gemstone powder, and he allows it to be carried away by the northern breeze. 

Victor: Henceforth, dust will return to the earth, and blood will be bestowed upon the people. 

Victor: I shall personally redeem the filth that has accumulated for far too long. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

In the wake of the National Convention, Victor instigates a series of reform policies to root out corruption, setting off a massive surge across the country. 

He works tirelessly day and night, paying no heed to my attempts to dissuade him. There is an urgency in him that I don’t want to understand, a rush that drives him to get everything in order. 

Throughout this time, I’ve been seeking out renowned physicians from everywhere, but all I’ve received are negative answers filled with a mix of dread and despair. 

Until one day, he slips back into a coma again, and even the duration of his coma seems to be stretching longer and longer as the days elapse. 

And all I can do, or more accurately, want to do, is simply to remain by his side. 

With his eyelashes hanging low, a gentle shadow falls upon that beautiful yet pallid face, and it seems even his breathing has become very light. 

As I gaze at Victor’s side profile in deep slumber, I can no longer find the same relaxed and carefree state of mind I had when I first stepped into the royal bedchamber. 

He is no longer someone who could have confined me, the husband I had never met before, but rather my beloved with whom I have been through thick and thin together. 

My only wish is for him to open his eyes and look at me, share some dry jokes, and then walk with me through the streets and alleys again and observe how people are living nowadays... 

Victor’s life began wither away the instant the Blood King Crystal was shattered. All he can do now is expend every ounce of the remaining warmth. 

He knew the consequences better than anyone else, yet he still orchestrated his own ending with his own two hands. 

I remain by the bedside, tightly holding onto his hand. I can’t tell whether I’m trying to comfort him or myself. 

MC: [sobbing] Victor... 

Tears well up and stream down my eyes. A hand reaches up to caress my cheek, gently wiping away those tears. 

Victor: Why are you crying? 

Victor has woken up at some point without my notice and is now frowning as he looks at me. 

Quickly, I wipe away the tears in a haphazard manner, the corners of my eyes stinging from the abrasion of my forceful fingertips. 

MC: I’m alright. Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? 

Victor doesn’t answer. Instead, his gaze passes over my shoulder and settles on the view outside the window. 

Victor: It’s snowing. 

It’s only now do I take notice that the imperial palace courtyard has already been blanketed in snow, transforming into an expanse of pristine white. 

Victor: Weren’t you most fond of building snowmen when you were a child? Why not give it a try now? 

MC: But your health... 

Victor: [in an even tender and heart-wrenchingly weaker tone] It’s just building a snowman. 

I press my lips together. The truth is, I have long grown to despise winter, and I don’t like building snowmen anymore. 

After the death of my parents, the attendants who had been my companions from childhood to adulthood were all substituted with the informants from the Church, and the duke’s mansion became eerily cold and desolate. 

The winter season I once loved became increasingly colder as time went on, and I no longer had the desire to go out. Warmer seasons began to become more likable to me. 

But none of these are worth mentioning to Victor. Because this winter— it is marked by the moment I met him. 

I nod. 

MC: Of course. 

MC: In that case, I must show you the snowmen-building skills I’ve honed since childhood! 

I force a smile and step outside with Victor after donning our outer garments. He tucks my hand into his cloak. 

Victor: A certain someone was shivering in the cold during the last outing, and she still forgot to bring her gloves this time. 

MC: I did it intentionally. Otherwise, how could I get Your Majesty to help warm my hands? 

With this said, I slip my chin into my cloak, and the smile at the corner of my mouth instantly fades away. 

Victor’s hand is much colder than mine. Taking a deep breath, I grip his hand even tighter, and together, we step into this pure white world. 

────────── 

The chilly breeze howls as Victor and I tread through the snow, neither of us uttering a word. [5] 

Reminiscent of a wanderer losing its way, the mist hangs over the frigid ground and eventually dissipates into the pale grayish expanse above. 

Victor suddenly loosens his hold on my hand. 

Victor: Didn’t you want to showcase your skills to me? Why aren’t you going yet? 

I cast a brief glance at the mounds of snow under the trees, nod in silence, and reluctantly let go of his hand despite my heart breaking. [6] 

MC: Well, Your Majesty, please wait for just a short while. 

I tighten Victor’s cloak for him, then dash to the snowdrifts and begin building a snowman. 

My hands move at a blazing pace. There is only a single thought circling in my mind right now, and that is to swiftly end this time-wasting game and return to his side as fast as possible. 

To add to my woes, the newly fallen snow proves challenging to shape, much like bleached wool. Despite my vigorous efforts to press the snow together time and again, the snowballs continue to fall apart, each and every time. 

A mix of vexation and restlessness churns in my heart. I have nearly exhausted all the strength left in my body to mold the snowballs, and both my hands are now aching from the cold. 

Victor: [with endless helplessness] Dummy, no one is competing with you for first place. There’s no need to be in such a rush. 

Subconsciously, I pause in my movements, turn my head, and find him gazing at me with a serene expression. 

The urgency and anxiety in my heart seem to find equilibrium, and my hands unconsciously settle into a steadier motion. 

Regrettably, the snowman I end up crafting doesn’t even qualify to be described as “adorable.” Even so, Victor earnestly lowers his head, observing it with the bearing of a connoisseur appreciating a gem. 

Victor: To create this shape without it falling apart is indeed a testament to skill. 

His teasing remark elicits a chuckle from me. I pick up a twig and walk over to him. 

MC: There’s still one last step, but it requires Your Majesty and me to complete it together. 

Placing the twig in his hand, I then hold onto his hand, and together, we draw eyes and a mouth on the snowman’s face. 

Victor chuckles softly, and conversely, he grasps my hand, guiding it to make strokes. 

Victor: You’re holding so tightly; its eyes are all crooked now. 

Looking at the snowman with its enlarged eyes due to our modifications, I’m just about to crack a few jokes when I notice a touch of weariness on Victor’s face. 

MC: We’ve almost completed the snowman. Would you like to rest for a while? 

Victor: I know a tavern. Come with me. 

We’ve arrived at the alley where we met that kitten before. It has undergone a complete transformation, and the newly opened tavern is bustling with patrons. 

It’s a snowy day, and the tavern is filled to capacity. I initially thought that there would be no seats available. However, the owner leads us straight into a room. 

MC: Huh? Did you reserve the room with the owner in advance? But you weren’t... 

Victor brushes away the snowflakes off my head, seeing through my puzzlement. 

Victor: I arranged it in advance, yes. 

Victor: Since I didn’t know when I would be awake, I told the owner beforehand that I would have this room reserved for as long as it snows. 

The fire in the hearth produces a crackling sound. Victor’s facial features are enveloped in the cloud of heat, his eyes gentle. 

Victor: I just thought that one day, I would take you out to see the snow. 

We sit on the terrace, sipping the warm wine. Amidst the aroma of wine wafting in the air, he speaks in a soft tone. 

Victor: I did stick my tongue to a cup in the past. It happened when I was five years old and had a taste of my father, the king’s red wine in secret. My mother, the queen, had gotten quite the shock. 

MC: Eh? What are you talking about... 

Victor: Dummy, aren’t you always clamoring about wanting to hear my stories? 

He says it as if it were the most natural thing, as if this were merely an ordinary winter day, as if we were an ordinary married couple offhandedly conversing about our everyday life while enjoying a drink and keeping ourselves warm by the fire. 

The north breeze makes my eyes sting, but I still force myself to smile as I look at him. 

MC: So, it turns out that His Majesty was a dummy, too, when he was five years old. How about when you were six? What was it like? 

Victor: When I was six... 

In the back-and-forth questions and answers, more than twenty years of Victor’s life have become etched in my mind. 

I dare not listen. I can’t help but feel as if once I’ve heard everything, he will leave me. And yet, I listen carefully to every single word. 

I listen to the way he speaks each word— the way his teeth collide, the way his two lips meet, the way the nuances of his trailing notes alter between closing and releasing. 

Victor: Next, it’s the day when I got married to a certain someone. 

MC: ...there’s no need to tell the next part of the story. After all, the stories related to me have only begun. 

Victor pauses, but doesn’t follow up my words with a playful remark.

MC: ...Victor? 

Victor: What’s wrong? 

I shake my head, and when I open my mouth again, the name that has been lingering on the edge of my lips and weighing on my heart spills out involuntarily. 

MC: Victor.  

Victor: Mm, I’m here. 

He tacitly acquiesces to my almost naïvely foolish behavior, responding to my call of his name over and over again. It feels as though, if only I can keep confirming like this, the hole in my heart would be filled. 

MC: ...Victor. 

This time, he doesn’t speak. The silence forces me to stop. 

MC: [sobbing] I just want to know... what can I do to make you stay... [7] 

Victor sighs softly and beckons to me. 

I lean over and nestle in his frigid arms. 

As if he can no longer support the weight of his long, ink-black eyelashes, he casts his gaze downward. His nearly translucent skin appears as if it’s about to blend with the sunlight. 

Victor reaches out and touches my cheek, his finger pads caressing the contours of my face with utmost gentleness, as if sketching my features. 

His fingertips carry with them the chill of death, making me shiver involuntarily. 

Slowly and stiffly, I weave my words together, but the sentences that come out of my mouth are still shakily out of tune. 

MC: [teary-eyed x1] Victor, do you find it a little chilly? Maybe your cloak is too thin? 

MC: [x2] The fire is obviously burning so strongly, and the mead is also very warm... [8] 

MC: [x3] Look, there’s a kitten on the eaves over there. Isn’t it the one we met that day? 

MC: [x4] It looks so lively today. Seems like its frame of mind is as cheerful as ours. 

When I utter the last sentence, I hear his gentle sigh. 

At the same time, the laughter of playful children chasing each other, the chatter of young people, and the sighs of emotions of the elderly can be heard amidst the wind and snow. 

Victor: Hear that, the sounds outside. 

The sunlight seeps through the terrace, haloing and enveloping the surroundings with a layer of warm and bright haze. 

Bathed in that glow, my body’s consciousness returns little by little. I tightly clutch his hand, no longer shaking. 

MC: [x5] I can hear it. It’s almost New Year, and the streets are bustling and serene. 

Victor: The snowfall this year is promising. So, the harvest will be abundant next year. 

MC: [x6] Yes, people will become more affluent and happier. 

Victor: You will be a part of it all, too, and that’s really good. 

I bury myself in his chest, silently listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, one beat after another. 

The heartbeat in my ears, following its rapid pace, begins to grow increasingly feeble. A realization dawns on me, and I force myself to lift my head and look at him. 

He is akin to a wan rose, wilting before my desperate eyes that seek to make him stay, withering within my outstretched arms as I reach out to hold on. 

From limbs to blood, to the light in his eyes— bit by bit, the luster fades. 

My king entrusts the future of this country to me, and then he steps out of time, heading toward eternal peace. 

I gently incline my body, kissing his peacefully closed eyes. 

MC: ...good night. 

This time, I don’t receive any response from him, but the snowstorm suddenly ceases. 

The curtain of the evening has already descended, and the vermillion sun sinks below the horizon. The final ray of the splendid afterglow thaws the ice and snow of the land. 

MC: Victor, I will take you to witness the tomorrow of this kingdom. 

────────── 

[Notes]:

[5] The exact phrase here actually was “冷风呜呜作响,” which literally means “the chilly breeze is producing a mournful sound”-- the “呜呜” used here is the onomatopoetic word for “sobbing/ wailing.” wanted to include this note as an example to gush about the brilliant atmospheric descriptions LZY writers use, e.g., the picture painted here echoes that even the nature is mourning at this slow, rather unfair, transition, mirroring the heroine’s and LZY’s pain of parting. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ 

[6] The expression used here is “依依不舍,” one of my favorite phrases and hated ones to translate LOL. You’d usually see this phrase being translated as “reluctant/unwilling,” but it doesn’t even come close to expressing the depth of its meaning. The phrase means “reluctance to part with sb you love/ being broken-hearted at having to leave,” with an underlying tone of “wanting to be with that person regardless,” -- and I tried to retain the OG meaning without being too wordy haha~ 

[7] Not sure how much of the sentiment I could make it come across in the translation—the term (留住) MC uses here literally means “ask sb to stay/ keep sb for the night/ ask them to wait.” the beauty of it lies in the fact that it expresses such a multitude of emotions— desperately wanting to keep sb in your life despite knowing it’s not up to either of you so you want to know if they can wait for you even though you know it’s not possible~ ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ   

[8] Mead (蜂蜜酒), also known as honey wine, is a type of alcoholic beverage made by fermenting honey mixed with water and other fruits. You can google it to know about it in detail if you want LOL.

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── 

#you guys probably already know how I’ve been screaming about this date since release haha. #it actually sits very high in my most favorite date list hahaha. and naturally as much as i wish to go on a screaming parade #- i just don't have the time right now. I'll get back to it later and do a thread on twitter B/C I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO TALK ABOUT~ #MESSIAH ARCHETYPE AT ITS FINEST. GOD FALLING IN LOVE WITH HUMAN TROPE AT ITS FINEST. YOUR NAME IS A SPELL TROPE AT ITS BEST #this date is everything EVERYTHING literally EVERYTHING— JUST UHHH #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

[mochi-marmalade]

Rose & Scar

ONE: The Rose

♡ series masterlist ♡

a/n: HERE WE GO royal guard!König x princess!reader 3.2k words chapter summary: you are assigned a personal guard, who you take a liking to. suddenly your days seem brighter warnings: language, slightly suggestive (?) 18+ MDNI

Exactly one week ago today, your father gifted you a personal guard. He had been handpicked by your father for your safety- after all you are a woman now. Father does little to conceal his distaste for your refusal to marry, but how can you marry when every suitor is so incredibly boring? They had no real interest in you anyway, many were pushed by their own royal parents or had come in hopes that you’d be a beautiful, complacent prospect. They were wrong. You turned down every single one of them. However… you cannot deny your liking for your new guard. He is quiet, but exudes an energy that demands respect. You know it is quite unbecoming for a princess to be in a situation like this, but nothing will come of it. You are sure that someday you’ll find a proper prince who actually wants to get to know you and court you. You hope. For now, you sit at your desk, head in hand, and look out the window at the scenery below. You are prone to getting lost in your thoughts and daydreaming, which you suppose you are doing right now. Instead you think you’ll ask for some tea. The door opens and you peek out into the long hallway. As usual, your guard is standing by your door. You call your handmaiden and return to your room while you wait for her to arrive. “You’re up early today, Your Highness.” She chimes as she walks in. 

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“I’ve brought your breakfast along with some tea. Which dress will it be today?”

You say the first color that comes to mind, “A green one.” She dresses you in a soft sage green dress that flows to the ground. She slips shoes on your feet and powders your face lightly. “His Majesty expects to see you at lunch today. Have a wonderful day, Your Highness.” With that, she slips out the door. You eat your breakfast and drink your tea rather quickly. “Another boring day.” You sigh to yourself. Although you are certainly very lucky and grateful to live the life you have, it still comes with its downsides. Every day is the same, and you are nearly crushed with rigid rules and expectations. You manage, though. Closing the door behind you with a click, you tell your guard, “Come along.” As you two make the short walk to the library, you tell him about your plans to take drawing supplies and books. You’d like to flip through several romance novels and sketch different scenes, maybe it would give you something to do besides study. He follows along in silence. You push open the doors to the library and revel in your grand collection. You think there are probably thousands of books in here, and you’re glad to have access to them. You peruse the selection of books and pick out a few sappy romance novels, also taking a few sheets of blank paper and a sealed well of ink. “Is there anything you’d like?” You ask him. He doesn’t reply, but his icy blue eyes flicker to you. You wonder why he wears a mask. Maybe you’ll ask him someday. Slowly, your guard shakes his head, muttering, “Thank you, Your Highness.” You stare at him, merely processing the sound of his voice. You’re actually not sure you’ve ever heard it before, but it lingers in your mind and you wonder what accent he has. German, maybe. You’re at a loss for words so you nod at him in response, and walk back to your room. You sit at your desk for a while and draw scenes from books: lovers seated on the grass, holding hands and looking at each other. You sigh, wishing you could have this kind of relationship. Really, you have very few relationships at all, including your father and servants. Father. You check the clock, finding that it is five minutes before noon and exhale a sigh of relief. You exit your room to go to the dining hall, your guard close behind. You take a seat opposite your father and brush a strand of hair out of your face. “Hello, father.”

“Good afternoon, daughter. I’d like to discuss a few things.”

“Such as?”

“I have arranged a ball for you to find a suitor! In one month’s time, nobles and civilians of higher standing will be gathered to celebrate your belated birthday and offer their sons. Is it not wonderful?”

“Yes… Wonderful.” You exchange small talk for the rest of your meal, then you are excused. You do not want to attend a ball. In fact, you do not like the idea at all. An event like that will attract all the wrong people, but you pray that you’ll be shown otherwise. You are guided through your studies by teachers for the next few hours, until you are released for dinner. After eating alone, you return to your room. What a dreadfully boring day. You’ve established a habit of undressing yourself, and as you unlace your corset, you spy the stars through the window. Once changed into your nightgown, you inspect the night sky. You’ve always loved stars. Finally, you crawl into bed and drift off into a peaceful sleep. 

Stretching, you awaken to your handmaiden setting down your breakfast. “Thank you.” You yawn. 

“Shall I draw you a bath?” 

“Yes, I think I would like that.”

She scurries off to do that, and you dress into a robe. She returns and escorts you to the bath, followed by your guard. You’re painfully aware of his presence outside the bathroom door, but bathe in peace anyway. When you’re done, you put on your robe again and call your handmaiden. She escorts you back to your room and dresses you in a sky blue dress. “You look lovely, princess.” 

“Thank you, Sara.” 

“You’re quite welcome.”

She leaves, and your attention is turned to your desk. There lays a bright red rose, which you’re sure wasn’t there before. You pick it up and notice all the thorns have been clipped off. Who could have left this? Then you realize it’s probably a gift from another suitor. Although you appreciate the simplicity, you scoff at the thought. Perhaps, though… it wouldn’t hurt to put it in a vase. It seemed too cruel to throw it away. You unceremoniously toss your fake flowers out of a shimmery pink vase and take your vase to the bathroom to fill it with water. As your guard follows, his eyes never leave you. “Just, um, getting water for a flower. Probably from another stupid suitor.” His eyes flicker to the side. “What’s your name by the way?” You ask.

“König.” 

“That’s German, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak German then?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, your hands are wet and you notice the vase is overflowing. “Oh, shit.” You say to yourself. He huffs in amusement, to which you raise an eyebrow. König quickly straightens himself, “Apologies, Your Highness. I just… Didn’t expect someone of your standing to use such language.” Before you know it, you’re grinning at him, not expecting this answer. His eyes scan you and he asks, “Did I offend you, Your Highness? My deepest apologies, I didn’t-“

“No, no! It’s just funny.”

König’s eyes crinkle in what you think is a smile. You stare at him and find yourself absolutely unable to form any words. You turn on your heel and quickly return to your room, forgetting to close the door behind you. You place the rose in the vase, and see König peeking at you out of the corner of your eye. “It’s the flower I mentioned earlier.” He visibly stiffens, and asks, “From the suitor?”

“Yes, I often have suitors ask for my hand in marriage. It’s nauseating. None of them even want to get to know me, they just want to own me.”

He hums, and you look down at the pretty rose. “Would you like to go somewhere with me?” You ask. “I don’t have much of a choice, princess.” What an ass. You walk with him down to the garden, which may be your favorite part of the castle. You sit on a white stone bench and motion for him to do the same. He sits slowly and carefully. “Princess, I’m not sure if I’m allowed to do this.”

“Oh, hush, it’s not a crime to sit.”

He looks away. You sit in silence for a bit, treasuring the sunshine and sounds of chirping birds. Finally, you tell him, “I love the gardens. Have you been here before?” 

“Yes, princess.”

A part of you feels dejected, as if you wanted to be the one to show him the gardens. “I used to hide here when I didn’t want to bathe.” What are you even saying? “The servants hated it.” Why are you still talking? Finally, you manage to shut up, but instead of repulsed König almost looks amused. You feel your cheeks heating up, and look at the hydrangeas to your right. It must be hot out today. Leaning over, you pick a small flower and smell it. A smile is brought to your face by the soft, nostalgic scent. You hold it out to König, telling him, “It’s lily of the valley. My favorite flower.” He takes it and nods. He really isn’t much for words, is he? “I’m sorry,” You blurt out. “I feel as if I'm bothering you with all my questions and conversation.” Shaking his head, he replies, “Don’t be. It’s my job.” Your heart sinks like an anchor in your body. Right. It’s just his job, why would you think there would be any semblance of a friendship? He notices you looking down at your hands for far too long and places his own gloved hand on your shoulder. “Princess, are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m quite fine, thank you.” 

He can’t help but feel as if he’s said something wrong. You look up at him with tear-glazed eyes and it damn near breaks his heart. “Are you really only talking to me ‘cause it’s your job?” You manage.

“No.”

You relax and sniff once more, not sure whether you should trust him or not. You barely know him, after all. You smile at him anyway, and he gives you some sort of look you can’t discern. “Shall we walk, princess?” His question surprises you. “Yes, I suppose we shall.” You hold the crook of his elbow, and his muscles seem to become rigid under your touch. It seems almost as if you can feel his sheer strength from the size of his biceps alone. Now that you think about it, he’s huge in general. You wonder what it’s like to be trapped under him, utterly powerless against his- You pat your face with your free hand and decide that’s quite enough. “Er- Princess, forgive my forwardness, but that’s quite inappropriate, is it not?” You turn to him and your eyes widen before you realize he’s talking about the fact you’re holding his arm. 

“Ah. Well, I am quite clumsy. Besides, is it not a form of chivalry? Do you mean that you have no respect for the princess, König?”

“Certainly not, Your Highness! I simply meant… Is it not a sign that we would be courting?” 

He says the last word in a low voice, almost a whisper. The way he says it is as if he could never think of the possibility of courting you, and it almost hurts you. Then you remember that it is, in fact, not a possibility. You are a princess and he is your guard, and it is nothing more. So why do you keep thinking of him this way? As if you could sit on the plush grass together, holding hands and reading poetry. As if you could press chaste kisses to his knuckles and lay his head in your lap, weaving your hands through his hair. You wonder what his hair even looks like. He always wears a helm carefully designed by you, along with a cloth mask that covers most of his face. Your handmaiden, Sara, had asked for you to sketch a new design for the royal guards’ armor, although it had actually only been used for your special, personal guard. You wonder if he ever felt as silly as he looked- a large, hulking man with dainty decals on his helm and a large sword strapped to his waist. “Princess?”

“Oh. Well, I don’t see it that way and you don’t either, so it doesn’t matter.”

“But you must keep up appearances, Your Highness.”

“And who would dare to argue with the crown princess?”

König falls silent, and begins to walk along with you. The two of you meander through the lush gardens, watching birds flitter by and bees buzz among the flowers. You pause for a second to pick a purple cosmos and place it between the strap of his baldric and his breastplate. Surprisingly, it stays. “Ah… Princess.” He mumbles. You laugh absentmindedly. If he didn’t look silly before, he certainly does now. “It suits you well, König.”

“Princess, I am aware that I am your personal guard, although I’d advise you to distance yourself from me. You’re hardly fit to be friends with a soldier.”

“According to whom? I do think I have a say in who I become friends with.”

“Of course, Your Highness. However, I think… If you knew what kinds of things I’d done…”

“And who says that it would matter, König? Who says that what you’d done in the past determines your happiness now?”

The two of you are locked in a stare, and the air feels electric. His eyes move, from your eyes to your cheeks to your lips. You can hardly keep your feelings inside, butterflies threatening to explode from your stomach at any moment. Finally, he looks away. “Let’s return to the castle, I feel a bit hungry.” You’re such a liar, but you can’t stand the tension. He nods and follows you back into the castle. You call Sara and ask her to bring you a snack, perhaps finger sandwiches and tea. She leaves to do so, and you begin to reflect on what just happened. Step by step, you walk yourself through the past hour. You and König walked through the garden, and you took his arm and told him he deserves happiness. With you. God, you’re an idiot. He definitely thinks you’re weird and maybe even knows that you have feelings. Today, you’ve done irreparable damage to your reputation and relationship with König. You should have kept your mouth shut, you should have never even invited him to sit with you. “Your Highness, I’ve returned with your tea.” 

“Thank you, Sara.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness. Is… everything okay?”

“Yes. That will be all.”

“Then pardon my intrusion. Have a wonderful day.”

You nod to her, although you’re looking through the window with your head in your hand. The closest thing you’ve ever had to a friendship is already destroyed. Feeling nauseated, you wonder if you’ve ever had a friend. You scoff to yourself for even wondering, immediately knowing the answer is no. How will you ever fix this? Maybe you’ll apologize or tell him you were joking- no, you’ll ask for a new guard. This is truly a fine predicament. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll take a short nap and sleep this disgusting feeling off. 

When you awaken, you lift your head off of your crossed arms to find the sky completely dark. Your dress feels incredibly uncomfortable and you walk to your closet to change. Then you’re interrupted by your stomach growling. Perhaps you’ll just grab a quick snack, but how? The kitchens must be closed at this hour, and you don’t know where else to go. You’d also rather not wake Sara. Groaning, you think there’s only one reasonable option, and you’re not even sure it’s all that reasonable. You peek your head out the door and whisper, “König?” He’s very much awake and alert, and looks surprised that you’re awake too. “Princess, what are you doing up right now?”

“I’m hungry.” 

He stuffs his hand into a pouch strapped to his leg, and after fishing for a moment he pulls out a wrapped bar of some sort. He looks away nervously, and offers it to you. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness, this is all I have. I don’t think the kitchens are open, unless you want to wake your servants, I’m sure they’d be willing to-”

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

You take the bar from him and retreat to your bedroom. You eat it absentmindedly and change into your nightgown. It tastes pretty good, actually, like it has peanuts and some kind of dried berry. You’re fortunate enough to be the kind of person who can sleep anywhere, anytime, so you turn the lights off and climb into bed. You let your mind wander for a bit, but you’re eventually lulled to sleep by the soft light of the moon. 

The next week is dreadfully dull and you don’t have anything notable happen. However, you continue to have friendly conversations with König. You’d like to get to know more about him, but you wonder how much he’d actually tell you. He doesn’t seem to be the very trusting type, nor does he seem eager to tell anyone about his past. You go about daily life for who knows how long, but somehow everything is different. Things seem more fun, and you actually look forward to certain activities. You’d like to learn another language, but don’t want to go through the trouble of asking your father for another teacher. Besides, he carefully picks each of your studies and you doubt he’d let you give up a current subject for language. You sigh, picking at the plate of chicken in front of you. Maybe falconry would be interesting? You’re sure you could find a book about it in the library. A servant from the kitchen comes to check on you. He frowns when asking, “Is the chicken not to your liking, Your Highness?”

“Oh, no. It’s wonderful, I just don’t have much of an appetite.”

He nods and takes the plate, and you leave the massive, empty dining hall. As you’re walking through the long hallway, you wonder how long it’s been since your lunch with your father. You freeze, realizing it’s probably been a few weeks. Weeks. Which means the ball is drawing near. The feeling sets as a pit in your already upset stomach, and you sigh louder than you mean to. “Is there something wrong, princess?” Of course König has to ask.

“Ah, yeah. There’s just this thing tomorrow.”

“Yes, of course, the thing I’m obviously supposed to know about.” His voice drips with sarcasm, and you shoot him a glare. “It’s the ball, you fool.”

“Yeah, and I was supposed to know that. Isn’t that a good thing, though?”

“Well, it should be, but my father expects me to find a husband. Tomorrow. Within a few hours.”

“I see. Well, I wish you luck.”

“Thanks.” You scoff. Tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.

#könig #könig x reader #x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #thank you for reading this far #:')

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 11

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp (wow, there’s a lot of you)

Warnings: argument? short chapter... so sorry you guys!!!

ao3 link  next chapter>>

“Charles, I know what I’m asking is a lot, but this needs to be done. Right now, I’m not asking as your brother, but as your king.” Lorenzo looked tired, and Charles felt sorry for him, but what he was telling him to do was crossing a line.

“Lorenzo, I am not spending weeks in a potentially hostile environment with my wife,” Charles insisted. They had been arguing for over an hour now, ever since Lorenzo proposed his idea. Since the coronation, Lorenzo had been doing everything in his power to gain support for his reign. He had used Charles and Arthur as placeholders in meetings while he went to villages and markets around Enza, drumming up supporters and fondness. But as of now, Lorenzo was worried about foreign affairs. 

You had relayed to Charles what Prince Verstappen had hinted at during Lorenzo’s coronation. Charles had, in turn, told Lorenzo, who spiralled into worrying that a war would break out during his first year as King. Once Queen Pascale calmed her eldest down, the brothers and their advisors had convened a meeting to discuss what the next steps should be. Charles had gently suggested that you avoid the meeting. He didn’t want you to overhear his shouts.

“You don’t even have to go to Redull,” Lorenzo compromised. “Just to their allies or neighbours. If you can coax information out of them, it would be incredibly helpful and necessary for the future of Enza.”

“Lorenzo, must I repeat myself? I am not travelling across the continent with my newlywed wife to adversarial kingdoms!” Charles found the title of ‘husband and wife’ sliding much more easily on this tongue.

“I am your King, ordering you on this assignment, and don’t think I won’t exile you for disrespecting your superiors!” Lorenzo’s roars reverberated through the room, and surely out into the hallway. Charles flinched back. Lorenzo slumped down into his chair. 

“I’ll do it,” Charles agreed quietly. “Lorenzo, I-”

“Don’t you dare,” Lorenzo held up a hand to silence him. “Just… go.”

Meanwhile, you sat in your and Charles’ shared room, penning a letter. 

Prince Verstappen,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. It’ll be unusual for you to hear from me, but I hope you’re not too surprised. I've lost sleep over your words at Lorenzo’s coronation and I’m writing so you could wipe away the worries. 

I’m unable to do anything to protect the ones I love if I don’t know what I’m protecting them from. I’m sure you can see my predicament. I’m aware you won’t divulge your kingdom’s secrets, nor am I asking you to, but a little more information would be beneficial. 

This may seem like a ploy to compromise your plans, but rest assured, it’s not. I want to avoid conflict and altercation in any way possible, and if writing a simple letter is enough to do so, then I will gladly write a thousand.

I beg that you come to your senses to help a friend in need. You won’t simply be helping me, but thousands of innocents. I’m sure you don’t want that bloody smear on Redull history.

I eagerly await your response,

Princess Y/n Leclerc of Enza

You slowly set your quill down and stared at the words you had composed. Would it be enough? What could Redull be concocting? Your unstable alliance with Prince Verstappen could prove to be essential, and you needed to play it well. You felt as if you were playing chess against an opponent, but you couldn’t see how they were moving their pieces. You were playing in the dark.

In a state of convoluted amusement, you added a postscript to your letter: By any chance, do you play chess? If so, Queen’s pawn to d4.

Feeling much more weary than you should have, you flagged down a servant in the hallway and gave them the letter.

“What’s that?” You quickly turned around to see Charles smiling sheepishly at you. He still felt bad about his argument with Lorenzo. “Are you writing to your parents?”

You let out a laugh. “God, no. Actually… it’s to Prince Verstappen. I thought that because he reached out to me in the beginning, he would be more prone to talking to me again.”

Charles let out a sign. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, but thank you for trying. How would you feel about going behind Prince Verstappen’s back to deduce what they’re planning?”

“Charles, what do you mean? If we misuse their limited trust, then it could make things so much worse.”

“Y/n, I’m aware of the possible repercussions. It’s the reason why I’m against it.” No other reason. None at all that had to do with you. “But I would rather sacrifice our alliance with Redull than the people of Enza. I’m getting orders from Lorenzo. I can’t disobey him. But I need you to come with me. Please.” He took a step towards you. 

“You didn’t need to ask,” you said. “I would follow you anywhere.”

“And I you.”

**

“Be safe, dear.” Queen Pascale kissed you on both cheeks. “It’s a cruel world out there. My mother always said, be nicer than the cruel world, or be crueller. I trust you to make the right decision. She was quite the woman.”

“Of course, my Queen.” You curtsied quickly, smiling at the Queen mother’s words. You and Queen Pascale had created a quiet bond during your time in Enza. “And you as well.”

Charles was busy talking with his brothers, but once you stepped towards the waiting carriage, he quickly left them to help you. 

“Good luck,” Arthur called. You waved in return. You shifted over so Charles could squeeze in next to you, even though the seat opposite was wide open. Your hand immediately gripped his, intertwining your fingers. You justified it by wanting some solace. 

Queen Pascale, having seen this, leaned over to her youngest and whispered, “See? And he said he didn’t care about this girl.”

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lord perceval #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc #slow burn #fluff #protective!charles leclerc #we stan pascale #pascale leclerc #lorenzo leclerc #arthur leclerc #max verstappen #war?

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Politics makes the most sense to me because it’s an election year, she leaked plans for a disinformation infomercial, and she’s still trying to get in with the Democratic establishment. (I’ve noticed that she’s moved away from the White House - maybe her narc rage can’t handle the Bidens declining her self-invitation for a ride home on Air Force One after The Queen’s funeral and then leaking about it.)

Isn’t it more that the White House/the Bidens (and the Senate, the House, and the DNC lol) have moved away from Meghan? And who can blame them? The Clintons and Bezos with Lauren Sanchez were guests at the recent State Dinner for the Japanese PM and his wife, a big deal state affair. Just last year, Harry was waxing poetic about how he loved Japan and could see himself living there (when he and Nacho were there for Sentebale, I think?). In the not so distant past - and minus Megxit and its diplomatic fallout - the Sussexes might have been invited, too, but now? No way!

**************

The DNC/Democrats have never been interested in Meghan. Not once. Not in her Suits days, not in her royal girlfriend days, not in her Duchess days, not in her Megxit days. All the stories of Meghan being connected to Democrats (aka the lovebombing) have come from her. 

Not a single politician or political operative anywhere in the American government has ever once returned her call. Michelle Obama only did the Vogue interview as a favor but when Meghan crashed her book reading at the O2 arena, that was it. Game Over. Then later, when Meghan and Harry kept saying that the Obamas were advising them during Megxit, Michelle came out with a hard “no, we’re not” and the DNC listened. 

Then even later, when Meghan was lobbying for paid parental leave, she called the personal cell phones of several Senators - a huge no-no and several of them actually spoke publicly on the record about how inappropriate it was for Meghan to have done that, and she’s been cut off / iced out ever since. That was Strike Three.

And as far as Harry lovebombing Japan when he was there with Nacho last year, that’s nothing more than him trying to get Japan to host an Invictus Games.

They were never on the invite list for the Japan state dinner. They’re not on anyone’s invite list for a formal state / diplomatic occasion. The only way they’d get invited to a White House state dinner while living in California is if it was a UK state dinner (POTUS hosting King Charles) and Megxit had gone 100% the other way.

#submission

[wonjnz]

some zb1 members as confessions i’ve received

₊˚⊹ genre: fluff | wc: —

₊˚⊹ warning(s): swearing | inspo: —

₊˚⊹ a/n: i found my notes rating these and i got this.. i changed like a detail or two to fit the scenario and member (+ no WAYY im writing it exactly how it happened 😭😭😭) this only includes yujin and gunwook for now!

not fully proofread yet!

you promised yourself that you’ll listen to class this time, but it seemed yujin had other plans instead.

“what?” you say exasperatedly as yujin keeps poking your arm with his pencil for the nth time, you don’t notice yujin’s slight smile as you’re too busy answering the textbook activity your teacher assigned. “shouldn’t you be answering too?”

“yeah, but i’m bored.” you roll your eyes at his response, “and you’re gonna be begging for the answers at what, two in the morning?” yujin chuckles at your prediction, to be fair he wasn’t in the mood in answering some math exercises at all, especially when you’re around.

but you don’t seem to budge right now to his frustration, he wanted your attention to be on him for the whole period, not on some dumb math questions. you could do that later, anyway. and that’s when he thinks of the perfect idea:

“hey,” he starts off.

“you wanna know who’s my crush?” yujin says, you perked up at the thought of finding out about such top information. and finally you have something to tease yujin about that’s not about him sleeping in class. yujin tries his best to hide his grin, perfect.

you put down your pencil, “who?” to which yujin hovers his hand over your own textbook, writing ‘you.’ with his god-awful handwriting. it took you at least twenty seconds as if it was some code that needed to be deciphered, when you finally understood you looked up at him surprised.

“really?” yujin nods and grins at you in response, you failed to notice his lightly red tinted cheeks while doing so. “you wanna guess mine too?”

taking your own pencil, you also wrote ‘you!!’ on the edge of his page. yujin’s grin grew even wider especially when you tried erasing it, trying to suppress a giggle as if you just did the most amazing thing ever.

and needless to say, your class was spent trying to hush up each other’s giggling and yujin finally got to bask in your attention for now and the days to come.

“you want ammo?” you hear gunwook’s extreme ass of a mic over your pubg game, you’ve been playing battle royale with him the whole night considering it’s a weekend the next day.

“i’m good,” you say after ransacking another house for loot, you could hear gunwook hum a bit before you start hearing his blasting fan over his mic. “someone’s here by the way, i’ll look for him.” he says, eventually getting a kill.

soon enough, you both won, with gunwook proudly flexing on you about having more than ten kills and saving you from enemies. “you’re lucky i even revived you after getting sniped that bad, if it was gyuvin i’d leave him there.”

“sure man, whatever you say.” you say jokingly, you’re not sure if gunwook got the memo since it became scarily quiet right after. even gunwook’s fan wasn’t heard and his mic could pick up any minuscule sound known.

“you’re cute.”

“..which fucking demon possessed you this time?”

it took a few seconds of silence before gunwook laughs breathlessly, almost as if he’s been holding that for the whole game. “i’m being serious. i didn’t wanna say that a while ago especially when you got sniped that—”

“oh shut up, i could’ve called you cute but i guess nevermind..” you tease, though you regret it right away when gunwook’s mic suddenly exploded with him saying sorry on repeat. you swore your ears rang the whole night ever since.

#zb1 drabbles #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone x reader #han yujin #han yujin x reader #yujin imagines #park gunwook #park gunwook x reader #gunwook imagines

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

#rwrb tickle #lee!alex #ler!henry #ticklish!alex #sfw tickling community #tickle #tickle fic #red white and royal blue tickle #rw&rh tickle #rwrb alex #rwrb henry #alex claremont-diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #rwrb

[luimagines]

A Dragon’s Dominance

Another commission.

They wanted Warrior Dragon au. In which case all the lu boys are dragons. I was given many creative liberties. It’s slowly consumed my very soul.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

You had learned something new about your traveling group. Every last one of them was some variant of dragon.

It was surely a learning curve for you. With time, you had learned that there was a whole secret culture that you would have been completely ignorant to had you not have it more or less shoved in your face. They could see more, smell more. They had half forms and full forms and were incredibly possessive. They shared their bonds in ways you couldn’t even register. You had no idea.

And they had tried so hard to hide it from you.

While dragons are still considered mighty and powerful creatures…. They were received in less than stellar interpretations in some eras. These boys were quick to learn that it was better to play it safe than to be overly prideful.

You had ended up in Warrior’s era. Queen Zelda was quick to receive the weary group and decided that a party should be thrown for the Heroes of Hyrule.

No one was impressed.

But no one was going to fight her on this. As a dragon herself, she would treat her kind and her hero with the honor he would be (and has been) denied otherwise. Zelda’s and the royal family were typically the only tolerable dragons, you came to learn later on.

The boys began to get ready as the party began to be prepared. You were given an outfit to wear as well, courtesy of the Queen and a request from Warrior- should the grape vine be believed at all.

You tried to make it work but you had begun to feel out of your element as it was. You were going to run late if you stalled any more.

There was a knock on your door.

You jumped and froze. It came again, a bit softer this time and more hesitant.

Warrior called your name.

With relief causing your heart to jump into your throat, you dashed for the door, pulled it open and pulled him in. “Link, help me. I don’t actually want to go.”

The name had escaped you before you could stop it. You were too frazzled to even realize your mistake.

Warrior blinked. He took a minute to process it. You were beautiful. His heart was beginning to betray him. His palms began to sweat. He wasn’t sure if his own outfit would even compliment yours the way he would have intended.

“Well…” He starts. “I don’t plan on staying the whole time if that helps. I’m not… fond of this sort of interaction anyway.”

You begin to calm down. “Really? Why? I thought this would be right up your alley.”

Warrior kicks the floor a bit. You look positively ravishing. He wanted to do something reckless. Something irreversible. Easy boy. He coughs. “I may blend in but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

You take a steadying breath. “That’s… fair actually. … I bet you have some people throwing themselves at you, huh?”

“It happens from time to time.” He admits.

You frown. “...I see… I can imagine that wouldn’t be very fun then.”

Warrior smiles gently. “It’s just one thing though. I have other reasons but they are neither here, nor now.”

He looks you up and down. You can feel your cheeks flush and you struggle to look him in the eye for the time being. Warrior offers his hand, brushing it hesitantly against yours. “Hey, I think I have just the thing to finish your outfit off… If you’re willing to follow me for a moment anyway.”

Anything to keep you from going into the public.

“What is it?”

Warrior takes your hand, pulling you to his side. He wraps his arms around your waist and guides you through the halls of the castle. “Something I’ve been holding onto for someone special.”

Well that doesn’t answer any of your questions.

He stops in front of some doors.

You think you recognize them. This must be his room. 

Warrior lets you go. “Give me one moment.”

You nod and he disappears behind them. Three minutes pass.

He emerges with a ribbon of some sort. No, that’s not quite right. Warrior holds it up. His face is red and he looks bashful. Something in this moment seems significant. You can feel it in the air but you don’t know why.

“I wanted to give this to you for a while now.” He says quietly. “I couldn’t do it before because… well… I didn’t have it with me, obviously… but I think it compliments you quite nicely.”

He holds it up and you can see small fabric flowers, sewn onto a thin embroidered wire with ribbon hanging near the sides. It appears to be a headband… but much more intricate.

“Do we have the time to even fix that onto me?” You blurt.

Warrior laughs and steps closer. He brushes a bit of your hair to the side and starts the process of braiding the ribbon into the hair that will fit, making sure the flowers give the appearance of a crown along your hairline. “To be completely honest, as long as I’m your escort, it’s not like you’ll get in trouble. People won’t think you’re rude for showing up fashionably late.”

You have calmed down completely at this point. Vaguely, you can smell whatever Warrior must have put on before he left his room. It seems just like him. It smells like hickory smoke and the comforting feel of an old beloved book. At the same time… you think you can actually smell his cologne through the musk. You can only think of Warrior. Only he would smell like this.

“Well, I’ll just show up when you do.” You say quietly. “That way I won’t have to worry about doing something too stupid.”

Warrior chuckles, matching your whispered voice. His fingers work nimbly to secure the headband to your head and it feels nice to have your hair played with. The moment feels comfortingly intimate, even if nothing is necessarily happening. “If you fall, I’ll catch you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” He takes a step back, looking proud of himself. “Gorgeous. Just I knew it would be.”

You flush entirely. But this is just Warrior. Encouraged by his smile, you give a little spin, showing off your outfit completely. “What do you think? Am I good to go?”

Warrior smiles wider and offers you his arm. “I think the party can finally begin.”

You laugh a bit, placing yourself at his side. “Does that mean they’ve been waiting for us specifically? Would they then have permission to start?”

Warrior grins with you. “Naturally.”

“You’re so full of it.”

“You wouldn’t change a thing about me and you know it.”

“It’s just a shame that you know it too.”

The banter was easy and amusing. You always seemed to relax in the presence of Warrior. He was just so pleasant to get along with.

Before you knew it, you had arrived at the doors to the ballroom. Warrior puts his hand on the door knob and turns to you. “Ready?”

With him at your side, of course you are. You tell him as such.

Warrior grins in the dorkiest way he can manage and opens them. “Then let’s try to forget the present for a little while.”

You nod and follow him in without question. The music continues but you can feel the way heads turn in your direction. Your grip on Warrior tightens, refusing to let him go although you’re well within the walls of the party.

“Dance with me?” Warrior tugs on your arm gently.

You look back up at him for a moment. You nod.

Warrior smiles and leads you to the dance floor, letting the music carry you through the motions. You can’t get rid of the feeling of stares no matter how much you try to ignore it.

“I just need to stay for three dances more often than not.” Warrior informs you. “If you want, you can come with me and we can both get out of here.”

“You’d let me?” You whisper. A smile lights up your face at the thought. “I won’t get in trouble for doing so, will I?”

“Of course not.” Warrior laughs. “If I’m held to that standard, why would they ask any more from you? It’s nice that you’re here with me though.”

The song ends and Warrior bows a little for fan fare. “One down. Two more to go.”

The next song to start up is one you recognize and it’s a bit longer than your typical dance. You don’t look around the room for another partner. You simply grab Warrior’s hand again and start to move to the beat. “Well we can get one more in the bag before someone steals you away from me.”

Warrior grins and shakes his head. “I’m more worried about someone stealing you away from me.”

“Strange. You’re the popular one.”

“And yet, here we are.” He says.

Warrior spins you around and you can feel yourself being pulled closer to him with every orbit. You lean into it and drop your voice to a whisper. “I can’t be crazy, right? Everyone’s looking at me.”

“I know.” Warrior replies in the same hushed manner. “It’s because you’re the brightest star of the night, Sweetheart.”

“Well how do we get them to stop?” You  plan your hand by his shoulder. Warrior’s keep his hands on your waist and small of your back, swaying with you to the beat of the music in the background.

He sighs. “Unfortunately, I fear we can’t do that. …And I’m also afraid it’s my fault.”

“What?” You blink in shock. That can’t be it. “What do you mean?”

“You came in with me and you’re wearing my headband… well it was actually my mother’s.” He admits in a quieter voice than before. “But some people are more nosier than they should be because of my position… and standing with the princess… and defeating Ganon and all that jazz you already knew about.”

You stop moving with him. Warrior has to stop the dance and with small and hesitant movements, he takes your hand. “Allow me to explain? Please? It’s…. A dragon thing.”

“No need, Link.” A voice drops in, sugary sweet and skin crawl worthy. Cia drapes an arm around Warrior’s shoulders and sneers at you from over his shoulder. “If they don’t understand… well no one can hardly blame them for it. I would like a word with you however-”

“No.” Warrior steps out of her hold, standing over you protectively. A small tongue of flame flicks within his breath. “I’m going to be the one to do it. I claimed them.”

“Do they even know what that means?” Cia raises an eyebrow. She appears to be calm but at the same time you don’t understand what has Warrior so on edge. He looks ready to fight.

You grab his hand and hold it tight. “Maybe not. But I can learn.”

Warrior shoots you a grateful look.

Cia looks muffled. Her grip tightens around her staff but she manages to side step out of the way for Warrior to lead you to the doors that lead to the garden. He begins to take you out of the ball room even if you’ve only been there for ten minutes total.

You try to look for the rest of your group but you can’t seem to see anyone you would recognize. You’re not sure if that means they’re not there, that they’re hiding or that they changed their style and dress so much to fit the party that you just can’t recognize them anymore.

You get dragged out into the moonlight and into the rose hedge maze. Warrior still appears to be on edge. He looks over his shoulders multiple times as you move and eventually pulls you behind one of the walls of the maze.

You both look at each other for a moment, letting the words and implications drape itself over the both of you. You take a breath and pull a little bit of ways away from Warrior. “...Claim me?”

Warrior blushes. You don’t think you’ve seen him so flustered and bashful before. He coughs and brushes his thumbs over your knuckles. “Dragon term…”

You nod. “Yes. I’ve gathered that at this point.”

Warrior looks down at your hands. “We have hoards… We’re quite greedy as a species you see. When we see something we want we put a claim and a mark on it. Sometimes we can say either or and still mean that-”

“You want it.” You finish for him. “You want something, you take it, it’s yours. Am I wrong?”

Warrior bites his lip. “That’s the premise.”

You hum. It’s not necessarily a foreign concept to you. Finder’s Keeper’s right? “How do I fit into this then? You want me?”

Warrior coughs, breaking his character somewhat. “I’ve… wanted to court you for a while now. The others were waiting and teasing me relentlessly.”

“What did you even do?” You raise an eyebrow.

Warrior reaches over and touches your hair, twirling it around his finger. You tense and bite your lip. “The headband?”

Warrior nods. “It’s yours…. If you’d have me.”

You can’t help but to flush as well. “So when all the people were staring-”

“There’s been some issues in the past. Everybody is wondering if I’ll ever take a mate to a degree.  Haven’t shown interest in anyone and for good reason. I’m not known to have the highest merit. Or the best prospects or even the biggest hoard-” 

“You want me as part of your treasure?” You cut him off. “The headband was to tell everyone else that?”

Warrior pulls you closer and leans into your space. “I get it… If you don’t want literally anything to do with me. I’m damaged and my future is only going to get harder to deal with and that’s not even scratching the surface of the social pressure and expectation my name comes with-”

“Link.” You say it purposefully this time. The man shuts up instantly. “Let me see you…Scales and all…”

Warrior doesn’t move. He doesn’t meet your eyes. He doesn’t even appear to be breathing. You don’t think he’ll go for it. The thought that you’ve crossed a line vaguely passes through your mind. Warrior begins to shift in front of you. He grows a tail and horns. His eyes sharpen and fangs sprout just behind his lips. His scales appear to be a bright blue, with hues of green and purple that dance in the changing light.

“There.” He looks away.

“Is this all you can do?” You trace your fingertips over the scales that encircle his eye, dragging your nail down his temple and cheek, stopping just past his jaw and down his neck. You can see Warrior gulp.

“Well …no.”

“Show me?” You’re pushing it.

Warrior looks into your eyes. His grip tightens for just a moment before he steps back. Another shift happens and a full dragon stands in front of you. Smoke comes out of his mouth but he lays close to the ground, trying to appear smaller and as least threatening as possible.

“You’re precious.” You drop to your knees and cup his face.

He scoffs, sending more smoke into your direction despite his attempts to control it. “Now I know you’re making fun of me.

“I’m not.” Your heart drops for a moment. You don’t want him to think that you’re trying to ruin a sentimental moment as it is. You kiss the tip of his snout and lean back comfortably against the grass. “You are very pretty. Even as a reptile.”

Warrior shifts back into his half form. His eyes bore into yours and he’s quick to pull you closer. “Please don’t play with my heart. I need an answer. I can take it off if you reject me. I won’t try anything else-”

You kiss him.

Warrior freezes and doesn’t know how to react even as you pull away. You swallow the small lump in your throat. “You idiot. I don’t care about your dragon customs or whatever. I don’t know what the process is for all of this… But all you had to do was say something.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face in the crook of his neck. “You’re a sweetheart. I’m willing to give you a chance.”

You can feel Warrior’s heart beat against you. It’s quick and panicked. You have a feeling this isn't how he thought this night was going to go.

He hugs you back fiercely and begins to purr. This delights you to no end and it’s suddenly very hard to stop yourself from giggling. It tickles.

“I promise-” He says with a thick voice, heavy with emotion. “- that I’ll do everything within my power to make sure you want for nothing and that no one will harass either of us. I swear it.”

“And Cia?” You say beside his ear.

“...She’ll be a problem.” He settles on. “But she’s been acting out for a while now. Leave her to me and Zelda. And if you need anything else regarding the magic then talk to Lana. She’s more… flexible than Cia on more things than just me.”

You nod and relax into his hold. That smoky scent comes from Warrior is pleasant and comes in waves as you both sit on the ground within each other’s arms. Warrior relaxes as well and hugs you tighter.

“Easy.” You warn. “I might smell like you by the end of the night if you keep this up.”

“Good.” He mumbles. “That’s the point.”

“Eh?” You pull back. “Do you mean to say-” You push him back as well so that you can actually look him in the eye. “-that you’ve been doing that this whole time? It’s purposeful?!”

“Of course.” Warrior smirks at you. “You’re mine.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #dragon au #lu warrior

[eris-snow]

𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟕: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Tags: 7 reasons why I love you, shoto x fem!reader, angst, fluff

“Snowflake, I love you.”

“I can’t do it.”

There wasn’t a word for what Shoto felt at those 4 words. His heart crumbled, dropping so suddenly Shoto was surprised at how hard it was to breathe. His hands scramble to your arms, betrayal and hurt lining his eyes.

Did you not love him enough?

Fireworks were still going off in the background, but it didn’t feel like a celebration at all to him.

“Sho,” you looked at him, eyes glistening. “You can’t do this. You can’t give your kingdom up like this—”

“Snow—”

“No, listen to me.” He can tell you’re still processing, tears flowing even more as you struggle to keep your voice stable. “Sho, don’t do this. We cannot do this to your people, to Yaoyorozu, to your family. I know it’s difficult, Sho. It’s difficult for me too, but this isn’t right.”

“Didn’t you say you’d stay? As long as you were able, come fire or hail, you told me you’d stay.” Shoto said, voice trembling now. For the first time he’d seen you, you were at the loss of words and Shoto took advantage of that.

“You’ve changed my life in so many ways.” He said desperately, clinging onto his fading composure. “I’ve gone through so much…I’ve been happy, angry, touched, insulted and everything in between,

I love how you always know what I’m thinking,” He confessed, walls all broken down. “How you are brutally honest and offend almost anyone you meet for the first time. Your tongue is sharp and you don’t care about what others think. You’re mischievous with eyes and smiles all unique to you which was what drew me to you in the first place.

But despite that, you are still so optimistic, kind, imperfectly perfect in a way no one can ever be, Snowflake. I could go on and on but really, what I’m trying to say…”

With eyes crystal clear, Shoto exhaled a shaky breath as snow fell around you.

“Snowflake, I love you.”

That was the first time he had said those 3 words, gifted to his first love after just a month together.

And he knew you could tell how scared he actually was as he blurted out his feelings to you and disregarded your status.

Love, Shoto realised, was an enigma he had yet to discover. It was a mix of everything he felt for you, the flutter of his heart, the warmth in his chest even in the dead of winter. The petty need to win your banters, eating soba with you, dancing with you, laughing and smiling and feeling like he could conquer everything in his path.

Just like that, you’ve gone soft in his arms.

“I love you too.” You whimpered, dissolving into your tears.

“We-I…I just can’t—”

“Why not?” asked Shoto. He didn’t know how else to convince you, nor what else he was supposed to do—

“I’m to be wedded, Sho.”

Shoto froze.

“T-That night,” You continued, fighting back another sob. “The night, when you asked what was wrong and if it had to do with you. This is it.”

Looking down at you, he actually took a really, really good look at you for the first time in a while. Below your eyes are dark eyebags, your face pale and your lips chapped with dehydration. You don’t look good at all.

“I was turning 16 and was due to be married at any time. When I heard your ball come up and my invitation, I thought I could buy some time. I negotiated a compromise to stay and to be free to do what I wanted until the end of your coronation. After that, I was to return and carry out my duties as my father’s daughter.” You wrung your hands together. “This is my last taste of freedom, Sho.”

You winced, powering through. “I got the news that day via a messenger, telling me I had a fiancee at home and a wedding to plan.”

Ears ringing, heart hammering, eyes darting to yours—

This can’t happen.

That can’t be what he heard.

“Runaway royals and us are separated by one choice, Sho, but there’s one reason why you can never be them.” Clearing your throat, you blink your tears away.

“You have a good heart. Runaways will sacrifice everything for what they want. You know as clear as day that you could never do that.”

Shoto shook his head, his heart battling his mind in denial.

Why did you have to know him so well?

“I’m so sorry, Sho,” You gasped as if your lungs had been punctured by shards. “But I can’t do this with you.”

Shoto remembers that night, 11 days before his coronation, as he cast aside everything to see just a sliver of hope in your eyes.

Even if you loved him, even if that was the truth no one could ever take away from him, he couldn’t ever have you.

—

He and you avoided each other ever since that day. His father seemed pleased, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to get angry.

And on his coronation, when he was pronounced king, the most powerful man in his kingdom…

He didn’t feel anything at all.

Your eyes left his as he walked out of the room, and the next day, he found you gone.

—

The tulip he gave you bloomed on the day of his wedding.

“It’s unlike anything that I’ve seen,” the gardener told him, but he just smiled and shook his head. You were always full of surprises.

“I’d like to keep it. The person this was for meant the world to me.”

—

It took time for Shoto to realise that you were right. He couldn’t give up the world for you, it just wasn’t his nature or personality. That was when he was finally able to let his grudge against you go.

You knew him so well, even back then when his mind was shrouded with fog.

Time heals wounds, though, so when Momo handed him his beautiful baby girl, he felt the same joy that you introduced him so many years ago. His kingdom was flourishing, even as there is no word from you besides your successful wedding that occurred a few years back.

He hoped you still thought about him when you fell asleep at night.

—

“It’s snowing again!” His daughter squeals, running around the garden and catching snow like it is the most exciting thing in the world. Shoto smiles, 10 years wiser, as he nears the pavilion. Everything is coated a sheet of white, and Shoto has to hold back his laughter as his daughter races through the bushes in fits of giggles.

He glanced around, a small smile plastering itself on his face as he sat down on the creaking benches and the chipping wood.

The centre of the pavilion was empty, just as he liked. His eyes gloss over, as he siffs over the memories fondly while tears gather in his eyes. His heart ached.

Gosh, how much he missed you.

“Papa?”

He glances over at his girl.

“Are you okay?”

Shoto shakes his head and ruffles her hair. “I’m alright, sweetheart. Papa’s just thinking.”

His daughter laughs, a beautiful sound, as she holds up a flower to him with wide eyes. “I picked this for you!”

A tulip.

“You shouldn’t be picking flowers,” He scolds lightly, but allows her to tuck it behind his ear just to see her smile.

Scooping his daughter into his arms, he brings her inside as Momo greets them with a warm embrace. She welcomes them inside where freshly brewed tea sat on the table for him. He’s as comfortable as anyone could get in this cold winter.

All he sees, however, is glimpses of you.

Maybe in another lifetime, he’d get to be with you without being chained by his duties. It’s been ten years, but he can’t get over you with your fan at that ball. He doesn’t think he ever will, and he’s not exactly opposed to it.

He hopes you think of him still.

He hopes that that fire’s still burning strong from so long ago.

Shoto takes one last look at the garden, smiles, and closes the door behind him.

He will forever wish to go back to that month and remind himself of all the reasons he loves you even when you’re kingdoms apart.

#mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #angst #mha shoto #shoto fluff #todoroki shoto #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto x you #shoto x y/n #royalty au #royalty #7 Reasons Why I Love You

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

the first instalment for the bruise childhood friends au, mostly setting the scene before we get into all the shenanigans and fluff. Jay and Cole are about 8-9 here. cross posted to Ao3

------

Jay hummed quietly while his dad talked with the adults. They were at another event — Jay didn’t care to remember which, they were all the same to him. Get in the car with the driver, arrive at the destination, don’t bother Dad while he talks with the grown-ups. Maybe play a game or read a book, but don’t be loud. Today was no different.

“—I think that it will go well,” his dad said. 

The man he was talking with raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes, if all goes according to plan it’ll be a hit.”

“I would hope so,” the other man said. “I’ve invested too much time and money into this for it to fail.”

“Of course.”

Jay continued to sit in the corner, but he was bored. Just as always. But surely he would only need to wait a bit longer, and then he and Dad could go out for dinner. He was starting to get hungry. Really hungry. Jay decided to take the chance. 

He walked up to Cliff Gordon and pulled his sleeve. “Dad?” he said. “I’m getting hungry,”

“Not right now, Jay. I’m talking with Mr. Brookstone here.” Jay’s dad turned to the other man. “My apologies, he gets a bit restless,” he gave a dry chuckle. 

Mr. Brookstone laughed. “That’s alright. My son is the same,”

Jay’s dad looked down at him. “Jay, why don’t you go wander around for a bit? You can go buy a snack,” he placed a couple coins into Jay’s hand. Score!

“Okay, Dad.” Jay said. 

Dad turned back to Mr. Brookstone. “Now, where were we?”

That was Jay’s cue to leave. He turned and went out the big fancy door they’d come in through, then went down the hallway. There had definitely been a vending machine somewhere.

When Jay finally found it, he was shocked by all the options. “Wow,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “So many choices.”

“Yeah,” a voice from behind said. 

Jay squeaked and spun around to see another kid, probably his age. 

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the kid frowned. 

“You just surprised me.”

The kid shrugged. “Why’re you here? Didn’t think the audience was allowed backstage,” he uses a lot of big words, Jay thought. 

“My dad works here,” Jay said. At least, he was pretty sure Dad worked here. Though he hadn’t been in this building before, so who knew?

“Same,”

“Your dad’s an actor too?” Jay asked. 

The boy shuffled a bit, like he didn’t like this conversation. That was okay, Jay didn’t really like it either. “He’s a singer,” he finally said. 

“A singer? Like The Fold?” They were a band that Jay’s dad worked with before. He remembered them because one of the members gave him a lollipop. 

“Yeah, kinda. He’s a Royal Blacksmith,” 

Jay had not heard of them before, though that wasn’t surprising. He hadn’t heard of a lot of people. “Sounds cool,” he decided on saying.

“I guess,” he said. 

This kid seems lonely, Jay thought. Like me. 

That makes us the same. Couldn’t hurt to be friends, right?

Jay held out his hand. “I’m Jay Gordon,” he said. “We’re friends now. What’s your name?”

“Cole Hence,” the other boy said.

“Great!” Jay smiled. “I’ve got some money. Wanna share chips or something?”

“Yes, please,” Cole said shyly. 

Jay turned back to the vending machine. “‘Kay, what d’you want?”

“Anything’s fine,”

“Gummy bears?” 

Cole hummed. “Yeah, sure,”

Very, very, carefully, Jay inserted the coins into the slot. Then he pressed the little number pad. 0-4-6, he typed. The packet of candy fell out. “Got it!” Jay said cheerfully. He held their prize up. 

“There’s a table,” Cole pulled Jay’s arm. “We can sit there.”

“Why’s there a random table?” Jay wondered. 

Cole only shrugged in response as they sat down. 

Jay tore open the pack and passed it to Cole. “So which one is your favourite flavour?” He asked. 

“Strawberry,” Cole said. “Yours?”

Jay thought for a moment. All of them were pretty good, in his opinion. “I can’t decide,” he said. “They’re all too good!”

“That’s true,” Cole agreed. “But I still think strawberry is the best.”

“I think real strawberries are better,” Jay took another gummy. 

“That’s also true,”

By now, they had finished the pack. There hadn’t been a lot inside. 

Cole looked at the empty packet, then at Jay. “Do you want to go exploring?” He asked. “I don’t know when your dad will be done working, but mine won’t be for a while.”

Jay’s dad wouldn’t be finished working for a while, if the way he sent Jay off was anything to go by. “Mine too,” he said. 

Cole smiled a little at that. “Great!” He said. “We can keep talking then,”

“And exploring,” Jay reminded him. “I want to explore.”

“Yeah!”

“Where shall we go first, captain?” Jay put on a fancy accent, like the ones that he saw on TV.

“Hmmmm,” Cole looked around. “The balcony? It’s where fancy people sit!”

“I thought balconies were for standing,”

“I dunno,” Cole shrugged. “That’s just what my mom told me,”

“It does sound cool, though,” Jay said. “And I want to pretend to be a fancy person,”

“‘Kay,” Cole said. “This way,” he lead them up a flight of stairs — they were so pretty! Who thought even the stairs needed to be decorated? Jay wondered.

He decided to ask Cole about that. Cole seemed to know a lot about this place. “Hey, Cole?”

Cole turned to look at him. “Yeah?”

“How come everything here is so fancy?”

“Because it just is, I guess.” 

A lot of things just were, Jay thought. Like how Dad just never had time to play with him, or how Mom wasn’t around, or even how his classmates didn’t like him.

“We’re here,” Cole said, snapping Jay out of his thoughts. He looked around. The stage was very far in front of them, and he could see the giant speakers too. Jay felt very small compared to this room. 

“It’s huge,” he said in awe. 

Cole grinned. “Yeah, it is.”

“You can see the entire theatre from here!”

Cole considered that. “Well, maybe not the entire theatre,” he said. “But definitely a lot of it.”

Jay laughed. “It’s so cool!”

“When they’re performing, the entire stage lights up,” Cole pointed at the lights. “They even change colour.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah. My dad performs here a lot,”

“That must be fun,” Jay said. 

“Sometimes,”

“So, do you—“ Jay was cut off by a loud “JASON EDWARD GORDON! WHERE ARE YOU?”

“Oh! I’m in here, Dad!” Jay called out. 

Dad marched in looking angry. “Jay, what are you doing in here? I’ve been looking for you!”

“I was exploring,” Jay said softly.

That did not seem to be an excuse for Dad. “You were supposed to get some food and then come back,” he scolded.

“Sorry,” Jay mumbled. 

Cole was still frozen near the railing. “Um, sir?” He squeaked. “It wasn’t Jay’s fault. I’m the one who thought of coming up here,”

His expression softened at that. “And who are you, lad?”

“Cole Hence, sir. My dad works here,”

Jay’s dad frowned. “And your dad is..?”

“Lou Brookstone.”

“Ah,” Dad looked around and shook his head. “I was talking to your father earlier. He’s in the main lobby right now, waiting for you as well. I can bring you there to meet him.”

“Okay,”

Now Dad was looking at Jay. “Jay, next time you wander off you need to tell me,” he had a strict look on his face. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,”

“Good. Come on, let’s go meet Mr. Brookstone,” Jay’s dad marched the two of them out the door and into the elevator, then to the main lobby. 

“Dad!” Cole ran up to Mr. Brookstone. 

“Hello, Cole. Where have you been?” Mr. Brookstone looked mildly confused. 

“I was exploring with Jay,” Cole pointed at Jay, who waved awkwardly. 

“That’s nice,” Mr. Brookstone said tiredly. He patted Cole on the head. 

Jay’s dad looked uncomfortable, and he cleared his throat. “Ahem,” he coughed. “It’s getting late, and we still need to get home. We’ll meet again next week as planned, yes?” His smile was very strained. 

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Brookstone said, like he was just realising how late it was. “Come on, Cole. Let’s go,” he pushed Cole in the direction of the door. 

“Bye!” Cole waved cheerfully, undeterred by his dad’s sour mood. 

Jay waved back. “I’ll see you next week! I’ll bring games and everything!” 

Dad looked at Jay. He didn’t seem as angry anymore. “It’s good that you’re making friends,” he commented. 

“Really?” Jay looked up. 

“Yes,” Cliff said. “We have to get home now, and you still need to eat dinner and shower. So hurry up,” he walked out the door, Jay following closely behind. 

I made a friend! Jay smiled at that thought. And I get to see him again next week! Maybe getting dragged to his dad’s meets wasn’t so bad after all. 

#jay walker #ninjago #lego ninjago #cole brookstone #cole hence #jay ninjago #cole ninjago #ninjago fic #ninjago au #cliff gordon #lou brookstone #bruise childhood friends au #the reason Cole introduces himself as “Cole Hence” is because I hc his last name to be Hence-Brookstone #and only saying the first part just makes more sense #kit's writing

[flicklikesstuff]

Can we see more of your RFTS AU? Does your Starboy have a name?

EEEEEEE!!!!! CONGRATS!! You’re my first ever ask! 🎖️💖

And I’d love to!

(I’m just so busy irl but I’m never abandoning this passion project of mine just so y’all know)

1.) I’m going to leave some details out for spoilers but here’s the gist!

Asha:

Design/Backstory:

- Asha has amber eyes with a North African purple and white colour scheme that contrasts Star’s.

- She just turned 18 a few months prior to the story.

- She grew up as a servant to the king and queen to owe up to Magnifico’s generous request to have her and her mom to stay at the castle’s spare rooms after a “fiery incident” took her house and father’s life away.

- Thus, she has a muscular build from all the experience she had running errands for them.

- Sabino is not her blood-related grandpa in this AU. He used to be the prev king’s and Magnifico’s royal advisor before retiring at an old age. He used to be close friends with Asha’s father. (I’m debating whether I should make Tomás the king’s prev assistant.) In a way, Asha still views Sabino as family.

RFTS! Asha’s design is basically inspired by my fav concept art of her <3

Personality:

(Asha’s main arc is that in order to ‘reach for the stars,’ she must first learn to trust in her capabilities and decisions. Because every single person has great potential that grows the more you have faith in yourself :)))

She develops from being an insecure servant girl to an admirable leader.)

- She’s TERRIBLE at organising her thoughts into words when she’s nervous. She finds it easier to sketch positive and negative things that she can’t say out loud into her sketchbook and vents there often.

- Asha is a daydreamer. (I plan on having her daydreaming sequences in 2D while when she snaps back to reality, the story goes back to 3D.). She likes imagining and drawing about her dreams and desires. It’s an escape from life and a stress-reliever

- She makes a bunch of promises to herself and others but often finds herself chickening out, afraid and unsure on how to take direction. (It’s a subversion of the brave princesses we had. Besides, I think we can all relate to this at some point, right?)

- At the same time, Asha beats herself up for still feeling afraid.

- She’s very observant with her surroundings. It’s why she manages to find something was off in the castle and catch on if people are hiding something

- Highly empathetic, allowing her to form deep bonds with people who struggle with verbal communication. She finds it easy to sympathise and is slow to anger and pointing fingers.

- She remembers limited sign language for being childhood friends with Dario, who is hard of hearing in this AU. But now, it’s been a while and is kinda rusty with it.

- Asha struggles in appreciating small things around her, believing that the prize at the end and achieving the wish is the thing most worth it. Initially believing it’s the only way people can be truly happy. If a wish isn’t granted, then what?

- Very creative, witty and quick on her feet.

- Tends to be indecisive due to the initial habit of being a people-pleaser, fears making a mistake, and due to having grown up where most decisions are already made for her (as a servant of the king and queen). She is insecure about her own capabilities.

- Can be playful at times and can take a joke/prank. (often with Valentino, who she adopted after his mother abandoned him from being born sick.)

……….

Star:

Design/Backstory:

- Tan skin colour with freckles across his face. Has wide hazel eyes. (Blue to brown, reminiscent of the sky)

- He’s 22 yrs old. Wishing stars don’t age physically but they still age mentally the same rate as humans.

- His hair looks like it’s made of stardust and it constantly has sparkles flying off it like sparks from a fire. The back of his hair is black like space. (I’ve show it already but it’s basically this:)

- His colour scheme is black and yellow in contrast to Asha’s. He wears a capelet and a cape that’s black on the outside and yellow sparkles under it. When he flies super fast, his cape looks like the tail of a shooting star.

- Light dims when upset and glows brightly whenever he’s happy. Sometimes, he glows red when he’s angry (Ref to Ray and Tinkerbell)

- Mute/Nonverbal. Communicates through sign language, light manipulation, animating sketches in Asha’s book, and drawing in air with stardust.

- He shapeshifts by rearranging the stardust that makes him up. This also means he could change his clothes very easily. In his numerous forms, the most notable thing is that there always has to be a star shape somewhere.

- He’s a young wishing star in the sky that was captured by King Magnifico to use his magic as a power source. He’s been kept locked up for nearly a decade until Asha freed him. However, on his wrists are green bands, similar to what the Genie in ‘Aladdin’ has. It’s the spell casted on him for extra measure to make him unable to return home or stray far from Rosas.

Personality:

(Due to being under Magnifico’s cruelty for a while, Star mistrusts humans and initially wonders constantly if they have ulterior motives. Srsly, the only thing he wants to do is go home to the sky and never go back down again.

But his arc over the story has him discovering how similar humans are to stars. How they shine a light and inspire one another to do great things. And most amazingly, with no magic! Over the story, Star reawakens his wonder of this beautiful world.)

- Wishing stars like him are the only creatures that have Wish magic. An unpredictable magic that not even the best astrologists and researchers know its limits. The way it works is that Star connects with a wish essence first, and then the passion and faith the person has with that wish determines the power and how long-lasting his help would be. It’s up to the wishing star then to decide their own unique method of granting that wish.

(It’s like training wheels. It would help guide you and then goes away once you get the hang of reaching your wish on your own.)

- A heart of gold who can’t resist saying no to a desperate face for long. While hesitant at first, he’ll slowly soften up. He’s actually a very sweet guy who loves making people happy under that defensive mask.

- Overly cautious and paranoid at first (like Rapunzel when she first got out the tower) but his wonder gets the better of him eventually.

- Greatly fears Magnifico to a high extent.

- Claustrophobic asf. The look he gave Asha when she proposed the idea for him to hide in her satchel while travelling through the kingdom was almost personal.

(It’s funny to think his initial dynamic with Asha is somewhat similar to Moana and Maui. Well…Not completely.

Basically, the only way for him to return home to the sky was return to the castle (which he JUST escaped-), find the artifact that casted the spell on him and break it, then he’s free. Though, Asha asked a favour that FIRST, he helps her find a way to free a few wishes first.

Honestly, this is frustratingly the best she could compromise with him because he’ll stubbornly refuse anything that involves direct confrontation with Mag. Asha secretly hopes she could change his mind on the way.

And because of that dread of going back anywhere near Magnifico again, Star would “accidentally” stall their journey there, which annoys Asha.)

- STUBBORN. Asha would tease him at times that he’s getting attached to Earth things and he’ll deny it because “Nooooooo~ I don’t. I am going straight back to the sky and that’s it.”

- Star would annoy or make fun of people harmlessly to express his frustrations with them. (He gets creative with his shape-shifting forms)

- Wish magic is unpredictable. So whenever he’s feeling highly emotional, like highly excited, scared, mad, or depressed, things happen out of his control. A rock turns into a giant orange pumpkin or a mushroom grows to 10x its original size.

- Impatient and gets distracted easily

- Star initially avoids touch at all times because of his mistrust in humans. He flinches at sudden advances. But progressively gets really affectionate as he learns to trust in certain people. That not all humans are selfish after all.

- Feels under-appreciated at times but doesn’t let it show. (A parallel to Magnifico who also feels under-appreciated. But instead of being vengeful, Star chooses to keep making others happy)

- Basically the entire embodiment of the therapist friend. (He keeps his issues to himself to avoid bothering others because “that’s not what stars dooo.”)

- He’s irritated that his inability to speak is misinterpreted as “stubbornness, uncooperativeness, and childishness.”

- This is AFTER he lets his defensive mask crumble down. Star finds appreciation and the beauty in the smallest and seemingly insignificant things, which he often brings to show Asha and his friends. (He’s the type to collect trinkets like Ariel.)

………….

Magnifico/Magnus:

Design/Backstory:

- Most of his design is summed up in this sheet I drew

- Magnifico is 38 yrs old

- His clothing is still white but with blue-ish patterns like the wishes he keeps stored away. Why is he storing those wishes? Let’s just say he and his wife have a big plan for Rosas’ 100th anniversary the coming month. ;)

- Mf has greying hair from all that stress

- I’m still keeping the backstory of him watching his village get destroyed as a young kid. Magnus was one of the few survivors who left the village alive on boat. They retreated to Rosas, where it held its reputation of being the most welcoming kingdom with each king being a grand sorcerer that serves his people. (So Rosas wasn’t built by Mag. It’s an already established kingdom)

- Being an orphan who had to turn to stealing to live, Magnus came across King Oliver, the prev king of Rosas. Feeling sorry for the boy, and having his wife and heir die from childbirth, he adopted him as Prince Magnifico. The name change representing a start to a new life.

- I want to make Mag’s backstory a subversion of the trope where the “MC rebels against their parent figure and is able to prove in the end that they are independent enough and their parent finally sees their POV and supports their child from then on.”

Growing up, King Oliver was admittedly not the best parent and was unintentionally dismissive in Mag’s trauma. “What’s past is past and sometimes it’s best to forget and move on.” Mag was enraged because he LOVED his original family and home and didn’t want to JUST forget.

- Mag fell in love with Amaya in the typical “Royalty x Commoner in the woods” fashion. But even then, King Oliver didn’t approve that. Not because Amaya’s a commoner, but because she’s a criminal who has intentionally broken Rosas’ magic safety restrictions for her alchemist experiments. This added more fuel to Mag’s hatred of him, of course. (Like damn, I wonder if Mag had anything to do with him passing away-)

- “After all, a king can do whatever he wants with his kingdom. Isn’t that right, father…? You did want me so desperately to be a good king…” (A quote that’s sort of a Scar ref?? Idk)

- Mag feels like he deserves the power due to his tragic past. He’s so sure that as king, he decides what everyone deserves. He feels like the world owes him for what happened.

And he will give the world and all those ungrateful brats, especially his dear adoptive father, what they deserve on Rosas’ 100th Anniversary. The day he shapes Rosas into the perfect land that he and Amaya were denied from. And after Rosas, the rest of the kingdoms will follow.

- He’s a vengeful spiky ball who thinks he deserves the credit for any problem he “solves.” Has Hero syndrome.

Personality:

- Psychopathic: Entitled, arrogant and impulsive

- Magnifico craves excitement and rewards. He smiles at the slightest compliment and gets a little bashful with flirts.

-He definitely runs his hands through his hair and plays with his cape as stress-relievers.

- Anger Issues. Yep.

- Superficially charming towards people as a manipulative tactic. Though it’s easier to break his facade compared to Amaya because of his temper.

- Remember when I said he’s almost similar to Lotso in Toy Story 3? I’m not giving too much details but do whatever with that knowledge.

- He genuinely believes and hates the Wishing Stars for ignoring his pleas as a child on the night he lost everything. It’s why he’s so harsh with Star himself.

………

Amaya:

In all honesty, I have not finished the queen’s redesign much. Oof- 😭

Here are some brainstorms I have with her though:

- Amaya is 37

- She aids Magnifico with spying and starting accidental tragedies.

- She’s usually in charge of the servants in the castle. Asha looks up to her since Amaya’s the nicest monarch to her and someone in the castle she feels safe around with. Like a second mother. With Mag, Asha feels like she’s walking on eggshells.

- Amaya secretly uses some animals and prisoners kept in the dungeons as subjects for her experiments.

- Being an alchemist (and more skilled in it than Mag), her magic is a substitute so that they can quickly save more wishes for their grand plan for Rosas’ 100th anniversary. (I forgot to mention that Mag uses the wishes to make his magic stronger.)

- She’s a strong parallel of Asha, presenting the dangers inflicted upon others when one gets too ambitious with their own goals that they are apathetic towards how it affects other people

- An independent woman who is very ambitious like Asha. However instead of keeping it to herself, Amaya goes beyond lengths to reach her goals. To become the most skilled alchemist, alongside her powerful husband, the world has ever known and prove it to those who doubted her. Like Asha, Amaya has her own notebook she keeps her notes in.

- Skilled at disguises and coming up with fake stories that are easy to believe in. (Ref to the Evil Queen, Jafar and multiple other Disney villains who utilise deception)

- Holds the calculating and intelligent skills in her power duo with Magnifico. Mag is more on delivery, force and image. (The Brains and the Brawn duo)

- Her family was against her interest in learning magic/alchemy. So Amaya heavily dislikes company that she perceives as holding her back from her full potential.

- Fled to Rosas for more opportunities. While magic isn’t forbidden at the time she arrived, there were safety restrictions such as certain spells and potions that aren’t allowed to be made and casted, which she loathed. (So she stole and found ways to gather ingredients for her experiments in the woods, prior to meeting Magnifico.)

- Probs just think of her as being as curious and innovative as Zarina from ‘The Pirate Fairy”, but you know, eviler.

…….

2.) Now for RFTS!Starboy’s name in this AU.

I’ve mentioned this in a previous post I had before but his name issssssss 🥁🥁🥁:

✨ Star ✨

No, I’m not kidding. That’s it.

Yes, Wishing Stars have names but not in a way humans understand. Their real names are in a language that is incomprehensible and ear-damaging levels of loud for humans to hear. While yes, they know English just fine, there’s not really an equivalent in the human alphabet for their real names.

Wishing Stars still love to listen to the names humans would give them from below though. Either individually or as a constellation. They love it! Ursa Major? Alpha Crucis? Awww.

Anyways-

Star hasn’t received a name growing up in the sky because he’s small and easy to miss. When they first met, Asha was not in a creative state of mind at the time and meant to put “Star” as a placeholder name for now.

However, the magical boy got attached to the name and stubbornly refuses to hear any other attempt at giving him another one. It’s so simple but it’s HIS name now. He claims it. I find it cute that a supernatural being with literal outer space as his home, appreciates the smallest things given to him. So “Star” it became….

Though, Asha did introduce Star as “Peter” (Pan) to certain people to hide his identity. Because ‘Star’ is too obvious, you know?

And then Star jokingly pretends to not know who this ‘Peter’ is whenever she refers to him as such. Asha would just roll her eyes and stifle a chuckle.

Friendly reminder that some details may change as I develop the RFTS!AU more. Hope ya’ll like it so far!! 💖

#disney wish #wish 2023 #wish rewrite #wish star #wish asha #wish au #rfts au #reach for the stars au #wish starboy #wish magnifico #wish amaya #wish disney #wish movie #Dang-This took longer than expected #I highly appreciate asks btw! Feel free to send more! I don’t bite :))

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Comeuppance yes injury - God forbid. by u/Evilvieh

Comeuppance yes, injury - God forbid. I want to take a moment to express that while I think Harry and his lovely wife Fang are ghastly people, I in no way wish them to come to physical harm. If I read the virtual room here aright, that’s the general feeling on this sub too. Comeuppance yes, injury - God forbid. I snark freely on their security theater because I think it’s based on delusion, not actual threats of violence. I’ve seen no evidence that they face any kind of danger different from the general ones that celebrity brings. I’ve seen no expert interviewed that they are in any kind of imminent danger. As the attacks on young Princess Anne, and Presidents Reagan & Ford proved, not even the finest security can prevent determined nutjobs. Luckily those aren't thick on the ground. The Aspartames like to bleat on about some online crap bags who were jailed for posting vile things about Mrs Mountbatten-Windsor. But the Kotzbrocken never lifted a finger against her, (unless I am misinformed?) and of course that was in Britain, where you can be prosecuted for speech, so of course they are jailed while in the US they might not have been. After seeing the unintentionally hilarious Scooter Goober™ scene in their NetfFlIx infomercial and all the shots of them before and since not wearing seatbelts, I think their “safety” concerns are a) real to him because she’s whipped up his innate paranoia and b) spurious from her because she just wants the entourage and whoop whoop arrivals. It seems to me that many people more famous than them get by with a more… reality-based security plan than the ruinous “billionaire” style 4 point 24/7 one they have now. If they want to throw money down that hole rather than getting proper therapy, a good fence and a better perspective of their relative importance in the Universe, that’s just another in a string of fine choices that have lead to their present situation. He was told about the consequences of quitting the royal job, and he had a year to come back. He chose another path. It’s not the taxpayer’s duty to defray the costs of his personal choice. I’m not sure why he feels particularly threatened in the UK, an unarmed society? Anyway that's my current thinking on this. Any counter arguments, fact correction, or insights would be appreciated. post link: https://ift.tt/7fSJq9n author: Evilvieh submitted: February 29, 2024 at 06:40PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

#SaintMeghanMarkle #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #fucking grifters #Worldwide Privacy Tour #Instagram loving bitch wife #Backgrid #voetsek meghan #walmart wallis #markled #archewell #archewell foundation #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duke of sussex #duchess of sussex #doria ragland #rent a royal #clevr #clevr blends #lemonada media #archetypes #archetypes with meghan #invictus #invictus games #Sussex #Evilvieh