#Casting my spell of Feel Loved Always upon you!!!!

[somegrumpynerd]

CHARLIEEEEEEE YOU'RE SO COOL AND FUN AND SILLY IT'S A JOY TO HAVE YOU AROUND (figuratively) AND I HOPE YOU ALWAYS HAVE A GOOD TIME AND THAT WORK ISNT TOO STRESSFUL AND THAT YOU'RE HAPPY AND CAN DO WHAT YOU LOVE FOREVER <33333

HLSLKGLDDHSKDVFHSJDFIHJD;KB PIGEON THIS IS ILLEGAL YOU CAN'T BE NICE TO ME THIS MUCH!!!!!!

That's so sweet that's SOO nice YOU'RE so nice!!!!! You're always the coolest and you make beautiful art for anything you draw even fandoms I'm not in I'm like oooooooh~! cause you make everything so pretty. AND!!! You always have amazing ideas, every time I see you on the dash it's like OOH YESS HERE WE GO cause it's a banger every time!! I hope YOU have a really good time and college is chill and manageable and you get so many purrs and cuddles from your kitties every day and you experience joy every day!!!!

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out

☒ Word Count: 1,564

Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul. 

You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.

After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes. 

It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued. 

Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight. 

You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. 

A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you. 

"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours. 

"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips. 

"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat. 

Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded. 

"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.  

"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."

"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"

With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours. 

A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat. 

"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you. 

You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you." 

You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.

A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear. 

"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock. 

Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy. 

There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs. 

"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.

Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."

tags; @danveration

[minus-plus-zer0]

He Hears You Talking About Him

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Established relationships

Bakugou sat at his desk, his mood soured by the rain this morning. His classmates filed into the classroom early around him, but he paid them no mind. He rested his head on his hand, with his nose in his textbook.

But of course, his ears perked up when he heard your voice announcing your presence. You chatted animatedly with Ashido as you walked over to your desk, which happened to be right behind his. As you conversed with your friend, you passed by him and gave him a quick pat on the head, to which he briefly shared a tender glance with you.

But what he was even more interested in was what you were saying. Because he was starting to realize you were talking about him.

You set your backpack down at your desk. "And I gave him the nicest, sweetest, softest hugs! And he looked so pleased!"

"No way!" Ashido said, like the subject of their conversation wasn't within earshot. "Him? Pleased? Did you cast some sort of brainwashing spell on him?"

"No no no!" you whined. "I really mean it, he's the sweetest guy ever. He bought me flowers the other day because he knew I loved them. I've still got them in my dorm room next to my bed so I see them when I wake up every morning. And he looked so satisfied knowing I was taking good care of what he gave me. He's really not as bad as everyone says he is. He's kind, and loyal, and affectionate, and funny, and--"

"That better be me you're talking about," he said, without raising his head from his desk.

"Uh oh!" Ashido said, leaning on your desk. "Bakugou knows when he's being called out!"

"Shut. Up."

"Of course I'm talking about only you, Katsuki!" you said, poking him in the back with a pencil. "You are one of the best boyfriends I've ever had! Thank you so much for being so cute!"

Bakugou really tried to keep a sour expression fixed onto his face but it wasn't working. He wasn't really sure how to react, but he really enjoyed hearing everything you said. He honestly wasn't sure if he was bad boyfriend material or if his standards for himself were too high as you once suggested, but he always wanted to show you he loved you as much as you loved him and he needed you to know this regardless of how grouchy he seemed. Bakugou never wanted you to feel unloved just because he couldn't express himself properly. You, on the other hand, were much more open with your feelings. That was another thing he needed to surpass you on.

"Look! Look at your boyfriend!" Ashido lightly tugged on your arm. "You made him happy! I've never seen him that weird type of frustrated and happy!"

"Really?" You peered over at him, trying to see his face. "I hope you are happy, Katsuki!"

Bakugou felt terrible about not being able to respond to your affections in kind. He didn't like how you gave it away freely, yet nobody returned your affection at the same level.

Bakugou stood from his seat and then pulled you over by the arm.

"What are you--"

"Come here."

He kissed you for the first time in front of all your classmates. You had already both kissed in private, but his lips felt new and exciting when everybody watched. You could hear some gossiping in the far distance, but your mind tuned it out when his hands met your hair.

He let you go. He gazed upon you like you were the sweetest thing in his life.

"Dummy," he said. "Thank you."

He gave you a final kiss on the cheek and then returned to his seat, as if nothing had happened.

Ashido squealed and dragged you back over to her. "Oh my gosh! Why did he just kiss you? I've never seen him kiss anyone!"

"See?" you said. "What I'd tell you? He's very sweet! And he's my best friend! He also once told me I'm his first girlfriend and he's gonna treat me right. Isn't that so romantic?"

And so you and Ashido continued to jabber on about your boyfriend, who was still unfortunately within earshot. But Bakugou was determined to fully pay you back later for your sweetness, one way or another. He just needed to figure out how to outdo you once and for all.

Little did you know, you made his rainy day a whole lot better!

(Just needed to get some quick thoughts out of my head and onto a page for once)

[gemissleeping]

Moonlight & Masks

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Newly turned Death Eater Theodore Nott is tasked with hunting down Harry Potter and the Order Operative protecting him. Only to discover the person he hunts happens to be the one he loves.

Length: 1.8k

Notes: Back from the dead (I am so sorry things are hectic and I don’t want to release a chapter I’m not feeling) with this little one from @thatdammchickennugget’s Hogmarch Challenge! Death Eater Theo. Use of the killing curse. Angst as always because we know I live for the drama. For those of you wanting more Veleveteen, in my head this occurs in the same story universe (which I know isn’t the same as an update pls forgive my sins). Not proofread, we have deadlines to meet.

The sting of lightning hung in the air as she weaved through the trees. The thundering footfall still pressing behind her. Lungs burning with need, she pressed on. Dizzied from the turbulent descent she and Mad Eye had suffered.

Alastor. He was dead.

She hadn’t even been able to take his body from the dirt where it had fallen. And the Death Eaters certainly wouldn’t afford him the dignity of a proper burial.

Tears clawed at her cheeks as she bounded over the tree roots twisting across the forest floor. Thinking only of Mad Eye, the way his voice had simply ceased when the curse had hit him. No cry of pain, no strangled wail. Only silence.

Her grip on her wand tightened as her tears ran hot. The taunting laugh of one of her pursuers echoing through the trees as they crashed after her. The darkness spinning endlessly around her. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Gone were the rules they had been taught to play by. Humanity sacrificed for power. Thoughtless with rage, she cast back her wand into the leering shadows. Letting the words fall from her lips before her heart could catch them.

Avada Kedavra

The green light felt as though it tore right through her as it ricocheted from her wand. Scattering through the trees and hitting its mark with a crack. Ripping at her chest with blistering heat, forcing her ribs apart until the spell dissipated. The laughter ceased. That same absence that had followed earlier resting through the trees. She was dragged to a still.

The force of the spell brought her to her knees. Bark breaking the skin of her palms, blood blooming as she fell forward in agony. She felt it being torn from her throat just now; some vital piece of herself. What she had given to cast the curse. The crack rung through her ears. Trailing her even as its ringing grew soft, faded into the background of the forest’s creaks and stutters. She could feel the heaving of her chest, dizzied by the absence that had been dug into her.

Before she could break upon the forest floor completely, the snap of a twig behind her brought reality rearing back. Whipping to face the darkness, she searched the teasing shadows that surrounded her. Nothing answered but the wind. She pushed herself up on bloody palms, staggering towards the nearest tree. Catching the glint of a metal smile hit by moonlight as she turned. But it was too late.

The Death Eater was on her in a second, wand jammed to her throat. One hand wrenching her head back by the hair. A mutilated snarl coming from the unmoving mask.

“Potter.”

She still had Harry’s face.

The figure towered before her, gloved hand pulling harshly at her hair as she strained against their grip. More tears pricking at her eyes as she faced the smooth and indifferent wall between them. Both of them were wearing masks really. But the thought brought little comfort to the nausea biting at her.

She was going to die someone else.

Wand to her throat, she closed her eyes. Preparing for the flurry of hot green light. Perhaps it was what she deserved, it could be a mercy. This way she would never have to truly face what she had done. There was no doubt in her mind that the person before her would finish the job. And yet she waited, but nothing came.

Opening her eyes once again she found him watching her carefully. Blue eyes clouded with something foreign, his silver mask lodged in the dirt at their feet. Looking at her with nothing but quiet restraint. She felt her throat close at the sight of him, all defences leaving her as she stared up at the boy before her.

“I asked something of you, when I saw you last,” Theo spoke lowly, wand still jammed to her throat as though he didn’t fully trust the person he saw before him. “Do you have an answer for me?” His voice fell flat against the forest air, low and heavy as his empty eyes.

His words sent another wave of dizziness crashing through her. The events of the past ten minutes threatening to bring everything up from her stomach. She wanted to fall into his chest and let his robes soak up her tears. To slice her palm clean across his cheek. Fall to the forest floor and not get up. Beg him to finish the job.

But instead, she did as she was told; she stayed quiet. Like the good little soldier they had taught her to be. Counting the freckles and moles that dotted the skin of his cheeks like they were her favourite constellations.

“Answer the question,” Theo snarled again, shoving her back forcefully. Back hitting the jagged edges of bark with an audible crack as a groan left her. Still she didn’t speak, blinking up at him as her head spun from when it had made contact with the tree.

“I’ll do it Potter,” he hissed lowly. His wand cutting further into her throat as she struggled to breathe under its pressure. He barely seemed to notice, staring down at her with empty eyes. “Don’t think I won’t just because you have something I want.”

She only watched him carefully, trying not to let herself give it away as she watched him. Staving off the clouds of memory that threatened to consume her at the sight of him.

“No?” He chimed, a sharp edge to his warm voice, “Very well.”

He drew a breathe, anger taking him in its burning grip. But just as the curse he had planned to cast was forming a whisper of air on his lips; she felt it. The rippling beneath her skin. Pulling and tugging and melting at the fibres of her. She bit her tongue as the pain of it ripped through her. Reforming beneath the skin as everything cracked and popped in and out of place. Until only she remained, swimming in Harry’s ridiculous hoodie.

Theo still had her pressed against the tree, all colour drained from his face as he watched the skin seem to melt and reform on her bones. His hands began to shake. She watched him with distant eyes, trying to hold onto what little restraint remained.

“What’s wrong?” She asked hoarsely, her throat aching from the potion’s due course. Theo’s wand still hesitantly pressed to the delicate skin of her throat. “Can’t do it anymore?”

It happened like the break of a dam. Her name fell from his lips in a rush of credence. Lips falling apart at the sight of her before him, what he’d almost done without realising. His wand dropped in a stagger, as though she had struck him. The darkness of the forest enclosing around them.

“You left me there,” he breathed suddenly, as though it hadn’t meant to come out. She blinked up at him as confusion swept her. But the lost look he carried only washed away as his eyes hardened.

“What?” she breathed.

“You left me there alone,” he spoke again, ignited with a sudden rage. His words were like kindling to her own. Her brow cracking with anger.

“No, Theo,” her voice shook, “you left me.” Theo looked to the ground, shaking his head gently in denial. He took a hesitant step forwards, as though to reach for her. But she stepped back, her spine hitting the tree. “Do you know how much I had to go through alone before I got out of there? Because you were too busy running off with Draco, or-”

He closed the distance between them with a blistering intensity.

“Do you know what it’s been like since? Without you?” It came out in a boiling whisper. “He wants your head almost as much as he wants Potter’s,” Theo’s eyes softened at the words, swept up in whatever memory they procured. “And I just have to sit there and take it, listening to the vile things they plan to do to you. Knowing there’s not a single fucking thing I can do about any of it, except for-”

He didn’t have to say it, the break of his voice said enough. The way his eyes fled from her own. He had meant to kill her.

“Why don’t you do it then?” She whispered, eyes brimming with more tears. Looking to the boy she had loved since she was too young to understand the word. “It would save me the-”

“Stop it.”

“I deserve it, don’t I? For leaving you. You said so yourself, in your letter. I read it you know.”

“No, I didn’t mean-”

“I know you’ve cast it before-”

“I said stop,” he bellowed, pressing himself against her in a flash of pent up fury. His body flush against hers as his chest heaved with the weight of his rage. “Even if I wanted to,” he whispered, his lips brushing lightly against her ear, “I can’t.” His hands tightened into fists, “He wants to do it himself.”

He peeled himself away from her, as though every inch of his skin that couldn’t feel hers was the worst form of torture. Drinking in every part of her except for her eyes, which he couldn’t bring himself to meet. She searched his, begging him to pull himself to meet hers.

“Is it that?” She breathed, fearful eyes rounded as she looked up to him. Searching for that thread that had always hung between them. His eyes grew tense as he saw what thoughts lay in hers, “Or is it because-”

“Stop.”

-you love me.

“Don’t,” he snapped, but even the sharp edge of his voice couldn’t distract from the despair swimming in his eyes. “Please,” he breathed, his head dipping towards her neck in defeat, but not daring to brush the skin, “don’t.”

He wanted to hold her, let his fingers trail across her cheeks, brush his thumb over her eyelashes. Just to make sure it was really her. Not some cruel trick made out to test his loyalty. But instead he let his breath fan across the bare skin of her neck. Knowing it was the only way he could allow himself to touch her.

“It was you I asked after,” his confession fell dead against the skin of her neck. He heard the breath she drew as though it was taken from him. Felt himself unravelling being so close to her now, after months of waiting and silence and searching.

Fuck it.

He’d be flayed for it, but everything could be damned. None of it mattered if he could feel her lips on his again. His hands flew to the delicate skin of her cheeks. Palms soaking in the remainder of her tears as his lips met hers. They parted effortlessly for him, welcoming him in as though she had been waiting just as he had. The softness of her lips balancing against his hunger. Her head tilted towards him, completely at his mercy beneath his calloused palms. Just as she should have been all this time.

[fishnapple]

FUTURE SPOUSE - Channelled message: What they love about you

(can also apply to long-term committed partner)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

1. Citrine

Loving you and being loved by you is like registering for a foreign language course, a never-ending one. At first, I was perplexed by your emotional distance, I could see it, your emotions, but I couldn't reach it. It felt like a wall was between us. I suppose my emotional expression felt foreign to you, too. Our language didn't match. But we persisted. We learnt and we've found some success.

You will find my neediness less annoying, and I will find your distance less scary. We've learnt to appreciate each other's endearing traits more, to admire rather than criticise each other.

I get to feel your care in such an intimate way. It's subtle, modest but warm, and it makes my heart squealed. It's like a perfume scent that lingers close to your skin. Sometimes you would forget that it is there, but you could still feel its effect on you, subconsciously, it makes you feel at ease, relaxed, like an invisible embrace. You always know me so well, inside out, even the smallest reaction wouldn't escape your eyes. You make me feel so appreciated, and I want to give you my unwavering devotion. We are, in a sense, the only existence in each other's eyes. (We still care for other people in our life, but no one understands us like us, no one sees us like us)

We don't show our love for each other in such an extravagant and boisterous way. We want to go about our life together quietly, to protect our nest. We are more alike in the way we function in this world than you think. Both your detachment and my attachment stemmed from a sense of solitude in life. The difference is, you want to embrace it, I want to run away from it. And when we are together, we enjoy our solitude together.

We get to feel life together in such a pure and beautiful way. I had never paid enough attention to little beauties surrounding me until I met you. Life takes on many more colours than before. It's vibrant, it's blinding, and it's moving.

Note: You guys could have some difficulties in the beginning due to differences in your way of expressing love. They are more attached and needy while you are more detached and distance. I don't think they are generally the needy and clingy type. They could just appear that way to you. But, gradually, you will learn to understand and adjust to each other. And that will be immensely rewarding. They will come to appreciate your more detached temperament, it shows hidden strength and also shows that you don't just overreact to situations, you will face adversities with calmness.

They love your quiet devotion and how you care for them in such a subtle and observant way. They feel seen and understood by you.

They will want to enjoy the quiet life that you share with each other. The type that goes under the radar, very private, not many will be able to intrude upon.

They also love how being with you makes them notice more beauty in life, to pay more attention to details. They learnt to enjoy smaller things, to find joys in ordinary days with you.

2. Red jasper

If you were a detective, a secret agent, or a spy, I think you would be very successful. Or are you one? Your silent moves would kill me every time. I didn't know that I could be attracted to something so dangerous. Why? The anticipation, the dread, it builds and builds in me, until suddenly, I find myself floating in the middle of dark water. I love it and I'm scared of it. The food you gave me, I'd never know if they were poisonous, if they had some kind of spell cast on them. Anyway, It filled my stomach, and it filled my heart. Full and contented. That's how I feel when I'm with you, minus the dread and the fear.

You don't say much, but your stare is enough, more than enough, it's intimidating, you know? Don't you know that people are scared of that? Or you've already known and you're enjoying it?

Whenever I look at you, I can't resist the urge to play detective myself. To deduct your thoughts and plans from those minuscule expressions on your face, your reactions. I want to observe them, to study them, so that, next time, you can't spring your surprises on me. Haha, fat chance, I will fail most of the times though. It's frustrating but also fascinating, especially when I see your surprising tactics worked on other people. A sense of sympathy, perhaps. Where do you get all those outlandish ideas from? Is there a recipe for the ideas generator with a 'totally explosive and secretive' tag on it in your mind? Do you have a production team working overtime behind the screen for you? Give me a hint.

You do whatever you want, sometimes you even moved away, change your address without telling me, knocking at my door in the middle of the night to tell me some irrelevant stories then walked away, telling me to go to the beach in the middle of winter. It's maddening, and it's addicting. I just want to grab a hold of you. I know it's impossible, but I always want to try.

Note: Are you someone who is on the quiet side but like to do whatever you want? Maybe you aren't, but they will view you that way. Your silence means unpredictability for them. They can't read you. And when they can't read someone, they perceive that person to be dangerous, they can't predict the other person's next move. But they love that feeling of uncertainty with you. It's scary but exhilarating, I think they have a liking for extreme sport and scary movies, anything that hints at a hidden, darker side.

They like your cooking, whatever you cook, even if it looks weird or unidentifiable, made from strange ingredients, it gives them a sense of uneasiness but also satisfaction.

They find you to be intimidating and inexpressive. They also like that other people are intimidated by you, is that a sense of camaraderie? A secret fan club. Your mysterious existence intrigues them. They want to probe into your mind to understand your inner working, with not much success, and that will even drive them more into it. It arouses them in every sense. They want to catch hold of that elusiveness, that uniqueness that you have. Be careful that it could translate to some possessive and obsessive behaviours from their part.

3. Amazonite

If you look closely at everything in nature, you will find that balance is everywhere, the equilibrium of randomness and order, of opposition and unification. And I find that balance in you too, because you are a part of nature, we all are, I find me in you and I find you in me.

You are the everlasting flame that burns. I got close and got a burn mark for touching you. But it's the mark that I would proudly display. Not to show off my bravery but to show off our closeness. You touched the softest part of me, the body hiding behind a tough shell. It hurts. It feels scary. It feels naked, but I wouldn't choose the other way.

How can someone so fierce and powerful like you can also be so tender and soft? softness could kill, strength could soothe.

I saw you walking on a strange road that not many dared to walk, but you seem so calm, so at peace, it made me curious, it made me envious and it also made me yearn to be with you. To walk with you, even if you don't need a companion. Are you chasing the moon, a faraway dream, a total darkness? Whatever destination you are heading to, I want to be there with you, for you, because I know my happiness also lies there as well. Your steadfastness gave me utmost trust and security, something that I didn't know I needed that much.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm seeing multiple people in front of me, but it's just you. I see a playful child, I see a wise wizard, I see a naughty trickster, I see a serious teacher. Somehow, they all act in union, a harmonious whole. It's ever fascinating. I could go to you for the soundest advice, then have banters that go nowhere and everywhere. I could go to you for the sweetest smile then having the rawest touch. What can I not find in you?

Note: This person practically loves everything about you. The love and the hurt that you can give them.

They find you to be their perfect counterpart, someone that they want to walk with, the one that can lead them to their happiness. They find happiness in their journey with you, no matter the destination.

They love how multifaceted you are. You seem to embody lots of different and contradicting traits, but it worked for you. You can harmonise them well into a fascinating being that they can't get enough of.

This person probably loves someone who can teach them, widen their mind, make them face their deepest part, but also be gentle about it. They love someone that know where they are going, someone who is very sure of their self, even if the path they tread doesn't mesh well with other people, I see the image of a stream (conventional ideals) feeding/pouring fear on a fish, but the fish just swims pass them. They find this steadfastness (their word) give them the courage to also go their own path and put their trust in you completely.

I think the way you act is pretty gentle, soft, and loving towards them, but it can also trigger them, touch them deeply, they can perceive a liveliness to you, as in someone who is brimming with life.

4. Labradorite

Hmm, the people seeing you be all smiley and warm probably won't be able to guess the wild animal that you've put on a tight leash behind closed doors.

Not with me, I will see it and I will love it. I love how you present yourself in such a soft, sweet way, then act all passionately when you are with me. Can it be called deception? I don't think so. It's just that you have such admirable self-control, you know when to hold and when to release, you don't just show your wild side to anyone. They have to earn your trust. I feel like the only guest in a private show. It boosted my ego, I will be honest. It makes me excited every time I get to meet you. Like a kid going to amusement park to watch firework.

You know how to play with words. Make it more flirty than necessary, but also make it into a soothing balm for the most agonising pain. I will tell you every time, to write a book, and I will be your most avid reader.

Being with you is me deciding to be brave, to embrace changes. You will bring changes into my life. Not intentionally. You just are. I found my life getting flipped upside down, being shaken, wrung out all the unnecessary grimes that had tenaciously clung on. I know that after they'd gone, you would fill me with real life. It felt like a dream before. Now I'm wide awake, lying on the shore, empty and liberated.

How can you give so much? Is there an infinite bank of fire inside you? Falling for you is like falling into the rabbit hole. It leads me into a strange land, expanding then contracting, being too big, being too small. Then, you will shine a light through a tiny hole on the sky for me to find you. I always know how to find you. The fire in me longs to be one with your fire.

Note: This person have so much passion for you. It's not just lust in a physical sense. It's more like your fire ignites their life fire and make it burn wildly. They can feel a passionate energy from you, it's generous and giving, like a sun. It's a life force that attracts every living being. I think that life for this person before meeting you had been quite dull. You make them feel alive. And to be alive is to be aroused, much like a seed sleeping underneath the earth, one day, sprouted out and kept growing.

They love how you're able to control yourself. They sense that you have a more wild side, an animalistic side to you that you just don't show to anyone unless they are deserving. They love how you present yourself beautifully and can also act passionately and assertively. You know when to be flirty, when to be serious, when to be soothing. You're probably have a talent with words too. They love your way of communicating, it's fun and creative.

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi! could you write a chloe x red x fem!reader (ben's younger sister) imagine where the reader is sick and they take care of her?

Sick Days | Chloe Charming & Red

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Red x fem!reader (Ben's!younger!sister!reader)

Summary: Being sick certainly isn't fun. Luckily, girls are always ready to take care of you.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, like really short fic, sickness, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: My Wi-Fi sucked the whole day yesterday AND today, so I'm only posting this now even though I wanted to yesterday. Anyways, here you go. Hope you enjoy it!

The Isle of the Lost was a place where shadows clung to every cracked cobblestone, and love was a rarity. But you, Ben's younger sister, had always been drawn to the unexpected—the way Chloe's laughter echoed through the narrow alleys, and the way Red's eyes softened when she thought no one was watching.

Your secret relationship with both Chloe and Red was a delicate dance.

Chloe, the daughter of Cinderella, was fierce, but a true softly and she was never afraid to show it. Her blue hair fell in curls, and her eyes held secrets she'd never share.

Red, on the other hand, was all brooding intensity—the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, tuff nature with eyes filled with determination, but with a big golden heart.

One chilly evening, you stumbled upon their dorms. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Chloe's eyes widened when she saw you, shivering and pale.

"You're burning up," she said, her voice gentle like always. "Red, we need to take care of her."

Red grunted, but there was concern in her eyes. She pulled you closer, wrapping you in a blue and yellow blanket.

Chloe brewed a cup of herbal tea, her fingers deft as she stirred in honey and whispered incantations for healing.

"You're lucky we found you," Chloe said, her fingers brushing against your forehead. "We're not exactly known for our nurturing skills."

Red scoffed, but she stoked the fire, making sure you were warm. She pulled out an old book—a relic from Auradon—and began reading aloud. Her voice was deep, resonant, weaving tales of magic and redemption. You leaned against her, feeling the fever slowly go away.

Chloe sat on the other side, humming a soothing melody. Her touch was tender as she traced patterns on your arm.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered. "We won't let anything happen to you."

And in that moment, surrounded by two unlikely protectors, you believed her. The Isle might be harsh, but love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. Chloe and Red took turns caring for you—Chloe with her potions and Red with her stories. They stayed by your side, their hearts entwined with yours.

Days blurred into nights, and you drifted in and out of fever dreams. Chloe braided your hair, and Red traced intricate patterns on your hair. They argued about the best way to break the curse that plagued the Isle, their voices rising and falling like a symphony.

When you finally opened your eyes, weak but alive, Chloe pressed a kiss to your forehead. Red grunted, but her hand found yours, rough and steady.

"You're stuck with us," she muttered.

And you realized that maybe, just maybe, the Isle wasn't so dark after all. One of them almost came from it. Love had found you in the unlikeliest of places—in the arms of a villain's daughter and a scarred hero.

As you recovered, you vowed to protect this fragile connection, to let it bloom like a forgotten flower pushing through the cracks.

And so, hidden in their dorms, surrounded by whispers of magic and the warmth of two hearts, you healed.

Chloe and Red became your anchors, and you, their shared secret—the missing piece that completed their fractured souls.

->

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TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @cyb3r-st4r @heartsfromcoco @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid

[yoonia]

Ever A Never After: Act 1

⟶ Chapter Summary | It feels like a dream come true. Prince Charming comes to the rescue, and then he is suddenly proclaiming his love to you. The promise of your happily ever after is suddenly within arm’s reach. Yet sinister ploys are at play, coming in the way of your happy ending just when you are merely a step away from reaching it

⟶ Title | Ever a Never After (adaptation from Enchanted movie) ⟶ Pairings | Jungkook x female reader; Seokjin x female reader ⟶ Genre | Strangers to lovers!au, Fairy tale retelling!au, Rom-com ⟶ Word count | 19,688 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | PG-13, +18 / M for future chapters; slow burn, black magic, curses, fantasy beasts/monsters, fantasy violence, fantasy weapons, mentions of (possible) characters death, blood, self inflicted injury (pretty harmless, no weapons are involved in this part), sudden wedding proposals, coercion, hypnotism, betrayal. ⟶ Special thanks to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi, @theodea

⟶ Story Masterlist: Ever A Never After | next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Feedback | Ko-fi | Music companion

⟶ Special Taglist: Ever A Never After

Once upon a time, in a magical kingdom known as Andalasia…

A place where each story ends with happily ever afters and a dream can become reality with one simple wish. Ruled by the powerful Sorceress Queen Rosalyn, who reigns the kingdom with her iron fist, steel heart, and enchanting spells, the kingdom prospers with riches and an abundance of good fortune. 

Magic exists in this place as the main core that holds the entire kingdom together. 

It protects the people of the kingdom from the evil forces lying in wait within the shadows. Magic also brings light and joy to the people of the kingdom, opulence and prosperity to the land, allowing Andalasia to bloom magnificently for the past century among other magical kingdoms within the realm.

With magic, the people of the kingdom—even those who aren’t mages or sorcerers—are able to have a strong connection with the surrounding nature. The blessings of magic spreads through the land, providing crops and provisions for the people throughout the year. It also spreads through the waters flowing from the mountains and all the way to the open sea, enriching the land, the towns and the vast farmlands within the kingdom’s territories. 

The blessings of magic also allows the humans and the creatures of the wild—the animals and fairies—to speak in the same language. Allowing all part of the kingdom to live in harmony and peace under the same sky. 

But just like two sides of a coin, magic has another face that the people despises the most; dark magic, with its evil spells and curses, which often draws in malicious forces and lures the beasts and monsters that would pose a threat to the kingdom. 

For years, the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyn, has managed to protect the people by using her powers. Yet dark magic has always been powerful. Enough to continue existing in the darkest places of the kingdom, hiding in the shadows, waiting in the crevices of the land for anyone who would be strong enough to wield and harness it. 

There is only one kind of magic in Andalasia that is strong enough to defeat these dark spells. 

Stronger than the magic that the Queen possesses and casts to rule the kingdom and its people. The most powerful magic that everyone holds out their hopes, dreams, and wishes for. The one that everyone most desperately seeks, no matter what risk they would take to find it. Even the animals and wild creatures of the woods would sing praises about it between the breezing wind, while people within the kingdom would write fables to commemorate its existence.

It is the magic mostly known as the true love’s kiss. 

Ever since you were just a little girl, you have heard many stories about it. From the tales that had been written in the books and scribes about the magical moments that are shared by those who have embraced their happily ever afters with their true love’s kiss. 

Once you become old enough to understand all there is to know about the magic made possible with true love’s kiss, you begin to feel a deep sense of yearning growing within you. A desire so profound to find your own happily ever after, and to find someone that you could share your true love’s kiss with. This desire has filled your thoughts and dreams, always keeping you wishing and praying for the opportunity to look out to the world so you can find it for yourself. 

And last night, after a seemingly long wait, fate itself has decided to answer your prayers by sending you a wonderful dream. A dream filled with signs telling you that your wish may soon come true. 

What you saw in your dream was everything that you had always pictured to happen. It got you feeling elated, hopeful, and it had woken you up with the strong desire to immortalise it while you had the chance to. 

The sun was barely up when you first opened your eyes, yet there was no way you could remain idle, no matter how comfortable it would have been to stay in bed. Your energy was already high, pushing you to start working on bringing the key piece of your dream into reality while it is still fresh in your memories. 

An hour or so has passed since, and you have been moving around your quaint bedroom, bringing with you scraps of fabrics, ribbons, and various other raw materials that you managed to gather from the garden before the sky grew bright. The rapid thrum of your heartbeat becomes the music you hum to while you carefully combine the materials, pinning each piece onto the wooden mannequin standing in the center of your bedroom—the same mannequin you would normally use to create your pretty dresses.

Except instead of displaying a dress, the wooden mannequin has been set up to display your newest creation. These beautiful scraps of fabric that you have collected and formed together aren’t meant to be any piece of clothing that you might be wearing later once the season changes, but to bring the object of your dream—the object of your deepest desire—to come alive. 

As your creation is slowly forming into its final shape right before your eyes, you feel a rush of enthusiasm and joy brewing inside your chest. A feeling that you share with your busy little helpers that have been moving in tune with you from every corner of the room. 

Their presence has become another reason why you are so full of energy this morning. They are the true blessing that had come from the forest, lured by the sound of your voice as you were singing the wistful tune of your aspiration the moment you woke up from your deep slumber. 

Each animal now present in the room are either having fun watching and cheering for you, or helping you with all the different tasks that they can handle. You enjoy watching your small friends following your instructions obediently while singing along with the cheerful tune you are humming while you continue to work. 

The wild hummingbirds that are usually shy and diffident are now fluttering around the mannequin, securing the ribbons that you have specifically chosen for your project. The fluffy chinchillas keep running back and forth to bring in more scraps and little accessories from your drawers to add to your creation. 

Once in a while, some more of your fluffy little fellows slip into your room. Always carrying with them the various items that they could find from the forest and the small patch of garden right outside of your cabin in case they would be useful. 

Just like the pair of wild sparrows that are flying in through your window right this moment. The sound of their cheerful chirping fills the room, drawing your attention to their arrival. “Here are some more leaves and fresh straws that you can use for the hair, sweet Blossom.” 

A smile is lifted on your face as they drop some autumn leaves and fresh-smelling straws from their beaks and talons into your open palms. “Why, thank you, sweethearts,” you gratefully say to them, “These should make the hair look all fluffy and soft.” 

Soft flutters rise in your chest as you lean to give each sparrow a light peck on top of their heads. A gesture that you give not only because you are feeling grateful for their help, but also for the way they are calling you with your childhood nickname in such an endearing way. 

Blossom.

Your mother had been the one who gave you the special name when you were born. It was said that the flowers seemed to blossom more beautifully the moment you came into this realm, and the nickname has stuck on you ever since. The name that is interchangeable with your birth name, and one that anyone who is close to you would often choose to call you with. 

You begin humming to yourself again as you drift back to your mannequin, pinning the leaves into the crown of the mannequin’s head. You have yet to get everything done when you hear soft voices calling for you excitedly from below. 

“How about these bronze quartz for the eyes?” A pair of white wild bunnies call out to you as they hop around your ankles. Clapping your hands with joy, you bend down to gracefully accept their gifts. 

“Oh, yes!” you squeal as you lift the pair of bronze quartzes to your eyes, loving how they glow under the bright morning sunlight. 

“How lovely, and they look perfectly similar to the eyes looking back at me in my dreams,” you delightfully exclaim to them as you attach the dark-coloured crystals to the mannequin’s face, giving it a pair of eyes that are glinting beautifully as if they are coming alive. “Those eyes looked as dark as the night sky but were glowing like twilight when I looked deeply into them in my dream, and these pretty quartz are reminding me of them.” 

Ada, the gentle deer, prances over, bumping her head against your calves to draw your attention to her. “Then how about these are some goose feathers I found at the lake this morning? Would these help too?” she gently offers as she drops the delicate feathers by your feet. 

With an astonished gasp, you bend down to your knees to retrieve it. You take a moment to marvel at them as a flutter of delirious giggle rises in your throat. “What beautiful feathers, perfect for a prince. I wonder where I should put this,” you ponder to yourself, tapping your chin as you admire the feathers’ colouring—its golden-brown gradient shade that looks luxurious, like pieces of expensive materials that you can only see adorning the fancy dresses or suits that the nobles wear to the Queen’s royal ball.

With a soft bubbling laughter, you twirl on your feet before pinning the feathers on its upper torso, and you can almost see it shimmer as the sunlight falls on them. 

“Oh, how perfect!” you marvel at the mannequin standing right before you with a sigh. Stepping back from it, you take in the result of your hard work, making sure that you have followed every little detail that has been engraved in your memory. 

“Just what exactly are you making so early in the morning? Keeping everyone busy before you even had your breakfast,” Poppy, the sassy squirrel who is also your most loyal companion, huffs curiously as she climbs over your shoulder, wanting to have a clear look at what you are creating. 

“Oh, Poppy. My dear sweet Poppy.” A dreamy sigh escapes from your lips, which only draws more confusion on your little friend’s face. “I had a dream last night.” 

“A dream?” 

“Oh yes, Poppy. A wonderful dream.” You cannot help but giggle as a giddy feeling fills your chest. You also feel a sense of longing, an odd sensation which has been plaguing you ever since you woke up from this magical dream. 

“Tell us about the dream, Blossom,” your friends chirp and sing from all around you, “Tell us!” 

With a smile, you slowly drop down to the floor cushions at the corner of your bedroom, finding comfort as you begin to share your tale, “I dreamed of a prince. A very handsome, charming, and powerful prince.” 

With your eyes on the wooden mannequin, you gesture your hand at your nearly finished work, “And he looks just like this.” 

The statuette figure that stands before you, shaped by the decorated and fully-dressed wooden mannequin, appears like the prince of your dream. Standing tall enough that you have to lift your chin up to look at it properly even while you were on your feet, the replica of the prince seems to come alive. You may not have been able to see his face as clearly as you would have liked, with how hazy that dream now seems to your mind. Yet as you run your gaze over your creation, you have to admit that you may have come close to getting at least something about him right. 

The upper frame of the mannequin is draped with a made-up attire that looks like a three-piece suit. While it doesn’t look as refined as the suit you pictured in your mind, it still looks intricate enough to resemble the fancy suits made for nobles. 

The jacket, made from a piece of wool which you once used to craft yourself a winter coat, is fitted to show the figure’s broad shoulders and trim waist. You didn’t forget to add a long tail at the back of the jacket, giving it a more sophisticated look—which you can imagine would flow prettily should the ‘prince’ walks across the room to ask you for a dance. The royal blue hue of the fabric allows the suit to stand out under the bright morning sunlight penetrating into the room. You can almost imagine it, the person wearing this jacket shining among the other people in a massive ballroom, drawing everyone’s attention just as you are unable to look away from it now. 

The golden-brown goose feathers that Ada had brought you look like golden embroideries adorning the lapels of the jacket. With a subtle sheen on them, the feathers are able to catch the sunlight perfectly as you try to look at them from different angles. 

Beneath the jacket, a waistcoat made of a matching fabric but in deep brown hugs the mannequin’s torso. Its snug fit creates an illusion of a broad and strong chest that would have filled its form perfectly as a powerful gentleman would. Various stones and crystals that you have pinned at the front of the waistcoat make up to replace the fancy buttons, and they all look almost like polished jewels against the dark backdrop as the sunlight falls on top of them. 

A pair of trousers are set up to cover the lower part of the mannequin. Using a smooth fabric that looks almost like satin, the piece of clothing looks no different than what most royals or nobles would wear in the fancy parties that you had quite a few experiences attending to. The trousers seem to have added an illusion that looks captivating to your eyes; a silhouette of a pair of legs that are long and strong, with toned muscles hidden underneath and a sturdy foundation that would display class and elegance. 

A crisp dress shirt in pristine white completes the entire ensemble. The light ruffles from the collar are peeking out from beneath the jacket, creating the illusion of the figure’s long neck. A silk tie is knotted around the throat, created from your silky scarf that has a spread of tiny blue flowers on a white background which seems like the perfect match to the dress shirt and the intricate looking jacket. 

“Yes, this is all perfect. This is how he looked like in my dreams,” you muse with a contented sigh, grateful that you were able to bring the image of your prince to life only based on the memory of your lovely dream. 

“But what did you see in this dream of yours, Blossom?” you hear the wild doves chittering from the windows, no doubt asking on behalf of your other animal friends who are present here, all silently swooning over your story, “What did you and the Prince do?” 

“Oh,” you stutter as you remember the beautiful moments that you saw in your dream.

“It was so, so romantic. He was fighting this evil beast, a black dragon that was breathing out fire so hot it could burn down the entire magic forest—” you start by sharing the part of the dream that gave you a fright, drawing a collective sound of sharp gasps from everyone in the room as well as you talk about the fierce dragon who was fighting against your Prince from the top of a dark tower. 

“—and then, once he won the battle and peace was reclaimed once more, he came to catch me as I was falling from height. We locked eyes with one another and had our moment, and that was when he chose to stay longer with me, ensuring my safety instead of returning to the castle. We talked for hours, walked through the forest, and he even took me on a ride in his glowing carriage. And when evening came, once the moonlight and the bright stars came to replace the sun, he finally asked me for a dance.” 

A collective sound of dreamy sighs echo through the room, increasing the excitement you feel bubbling inside your chest. And you have yet to reach the best part of it. 

“And then? What happened next, Blossom?” the fluffy and shy badger, Brew, asks you curiously from behind the curtains, where he had been hiding while watching you have fun with his friends. 

With a happy giggle, you lean back against the cushions while keeping your eyes on your made-up Prince. “We danced, and danced, and danced all night, and right at the sound of the clock chiming at midnight, we shared one of the most magical moments ever”—you let out a long, deep sigh as you murmur softly—”with a true love’s kiss.” 

“A true love’s kiss?” everyone gasps and sighs, sharing the elated feeling that is now surging through your chest. 

“But how will you be able to have a true love’s kiss,” Poppy teases as she climbs over the right shoulder of your ‘dream prince.’ She bends and points at the empty space at the bottom of the face as she jokingly asks, “If this prince of yours doesn’t even have a pair of lips?” 

Your eyes follow Poppy’s little fingers and an astonished laugh slips out of you. “Oh, dear me! We forgot the lips!” You quickly cover your mouth before the sound of your laughter reaches outside of your bedroom, realising too late that this is still early in the day. Yet your eyes remain on the mannequin’s expressionless face. “Oh, what should we place there as his lips? Does anyone have any idea?” 

Almost immediately, your little friends begin to chirp and squeal and chitter with each of their own ideas. 

“How about some fresh flower petals?” 

“Red roses don’t bloom as much or as pretty in this time of year!” 

“Berries?” 

“How about red chilli peppers?” 

The last response makes you laugh, joined by your delighted forest friends who seem to be enjoying their time with you, just as much as they seem to be enjoying the look on your face as you are filled with happiness and joy. 

But before you can say anything to respond to their ideas, a gentle voice calls out to you from downstairs.

“________! Sweet Blossom, where are you?” the voice echoes through the small cabin, and your friends scatter to different places to take cover. Some remain, yet they choose to hide in small places, while others jump into safety right out the window. The voice continues, “I know you’re awake. I can hear you singing from all the way down here.” 

“Oh, it’s Grandmother!” With a stifled laughter, you rise to your feet and rush to move. “Quick, help me hide this.”

Grabbing a blanket, you bring it to the mannequin, hoping that you would be able to cover it in case your grandmother ever decides to walk up to your bedroom. While it may not cause you any trouble should your grandmother ever finds out what you have been up to all morning, you know that she would only worry once she sees the ‘dream prince’ standing in your bedroom. 

You don’t even want to try and imagine what your grandmother would say, or what kind of look that she would give you if she ever hears why you are using your working mannequin to create your own Prince Charming. 

“Get your head out of the clouds, dear. We have other important things to worry about and focus on. It’s not good to be dreaming too much when you’re awake.” 

That is what she would always say whenever you talk about your dreams of finding your happily ever after, or whenever you listen to your grandmother’s friends and customers about the most recent gossips and tales from the kingdom. 

“Blossom, quick!” Poppy’s voice snaps you out of it, as she and the rest of your remaining forest friends begin to pull on the other side of the blanket to help you cover the mannequin. 

Once it is perfectly hidden, you pull yourself together and turn away, only making one last glance at the now-covered ‘dream prince’ before making your way downstairs to see your grandmother before she starts calling for you again. 

“I’m coming, Nana!” 

The place that you call home is nothing more but a small wooden cabin located deep in the woods, right at the heart of the Amaranth Forest. Located quite a distance away from the Queen’s castle, your home serves as a place of solitude, away from the bright and bustling life of the kingdom.

This is where your sweet grandmother has raised you all on her own ever since you were a young child. You may have no recollection of your parents, being so young when they were gone. But everything in the cabin serves as the reminder of their existence. From the pictures that are being hanged on the walls and placed on the mantle above the fireplace, to the small trinkets that they left behind, each one holding pieces of their memories for you to remember them by. 

Growing up without them, you barely felt the weight of their absence. To every void formed by the lack of their presence in your life, your grandmother fills it with her overflowing love and beautiful memories. Being under her care allows you to live with happiness and joy, as she continued to make sure that you could live your life to the fullest. She has also taught you to remain grounded, to be able to build your own life without losing your focus or getting lost in your dreams. 

And there are also your friends from the forest, the wild animals that would often come to visit you whenever you are in need of company. They have kept you from feeling lonely, whether during the good days, but more so on your darkest days. The same way they are keeping you company right this moment, as you are trudging along the woods to finish the day’s errands which your grandmother had sent you out to do. 

“I’m making breakfast for both of us before I will have to leave to the shop downtown,” she said once you joined her in the kitchen earlier when she called for you to come downstairs, “But I need help getting some ingredients from the gardens and the groves. I would go myself, but my knees have been bothering me. Will you be a dear and fetch them for me?” 

There was no way you could have refused your grandmother’s request. Not when you saw the look on her face this morning when you first came down from your bedroom. 

The dark pockets under her eyes have been more obvious as of late, so have the lines of age marring her skin. You cannot remember seeing your grandmother so tired and weary as she did today, but she has always known to hide her exhaustion well. Even if it means having to force a smile on her face just to stop you from worrying about her as she continues with her day. 

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wondering if there is something for her to be wary about. The thought follows you as you are gathering all the ingredients needed—the wild mushrooms from the nearby woods and some fresh vegetables from the small patches of gardens that your grandmother has been tending to.

Perhaps your worries have been written so clearly on your face, because the moment you announced your leave after seeing your grandmother, your animal friends immediately insisted to come with you. And you are grateful for their company. Because despite having these worrying thoughts filling your mind, you still find yourself enjoying your time in the open with them around to entertain you.

It is also a blessing that the weather is nice this morning.  

The sun feels warm on your skin, while the canopy of trees above your head are keeping you safe from the rising heat. Small birds are flying between the trees above you while accompanying your walk with their melodic tune. You also have Poppy joining you, as she is perched comfortably on your shoulder when she isn’t jumping around to help you plucking out fresh ingredients from the ground. 

The wild bunnies and Brew the badger are also there, jumping all around you as they follow you through the woods. Even Ada is following you close, as she acts like a guide before she will be making her way to the river to continue her morning stroll. 

After quite some time has passed, and almost all of the ingredients that you needed have been gathered, your friends begin to remind you of your ‘dream prince’ once again when their constant teasing continues. 

“Now that we have everything that your Nana needed, shall we go around to look for the perfect lips to give your dream prince?” Poppy suggests as she places the last piece of the potatoes into your basket.

“Oh, my! I almost forgot!” You gasp, and immediately, all the delightful feeling you had earlier returns to you tenfold as you remember about your Prince Charming. “You’re right! Now that we’ve gotten everything, we should continue with our mission to find the Prince’s lips. We do have some time left before Nana has to go to open the shop for the day.”

After sharing a quick discussion between you and your friends, everyone decides to follow Ada to the nearby river where she always does her morning stroll. Arriving there, she leads you to the thick bushes where the wild berries always grow during the season. The luscious shade of crimson from the fresh berries looks perfect, just the shade that you were searching for, and it makes you feel even more enthusiastic about finishing your creation. 

Seeing the look on your face, Poppy rolls her eyes and makes a tutting sound. “Oh, Blossom, do you think that your dream boy truly exists?” she wonders out loud. 

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you simply answer, feeling optimistic about it still as you carefully pluck the berries and slip them into your basket. “If he could come into my dreams, then he must be out there somewhere.” 

“Where?” Poppy teasingly asks as she dramatically begins looking around, peering through the woods to find your prince. 

Rolling your eyes back at her, you simply laugh at her antics. “He could be anywhere. He might be somewhere within these woods, getting lost between the thick trees while he is making his way to find me. Or he could be on the other side of the mountains, fighting off dragons and monsters to claim as his prize while proving himself worthy before winning my heart and sweeping me off of my feet.” 

With a sigh, Poppy shakes her head at you. “Oh, _______. I think your grandmother was right when she said that you have your head up in the clouds. Remember to get back to the ground before you fly too high.” 

You can only smile as you recall your grandmother saying the same thing; that you have always been dreaming even when you are awake, and that you always let your imagination run too far, when your mind is filled with all the wishful thinking you have about finding your happily ever after. 

You can understand why she would feel so worried about you, wondering if one day you would find it hard to face reality with how much you keep dreaming about your happiness. Even though it had been your grandmother herself who made you believe in happily ever afters in the first place. 

“Your parents had their happily ever after. That was how you came into this world, and why they are still together now. Wherever they may be,” you heard her speak one time while she was lost in thoughts, soon after she was done telling you all the tales about happy endings and finding true loves. 

It wasn’t often for your grandmother to talk about your parents. Except for the rare occasions where she would tell their stories, about how they met and fell in love, and how their happily ever after made it possible for you to be born. 

She would always wear a look of longing in her eyes whenever she talks about your parents. Although it would always be accompanied by sadness and hurt — the emotions that are constantly written so vividly in her face. It has always made you feel hesitant about bringing up your parents when you talk to her. But there is something in the way your grandmother tells what little tale she has about your parents’ love story and happily ever afters that continues to bring you hope. It makes you wish that the kind of love they had does exist, and that you may one day find it.  

Sighing to yourself, you embrace the blissful feeling that you have each time you recall parts of your dream which makes your heart flutter. The more you think about the dream, the more you refuse to believe that your dream had meant nothing at all. 

Andalasia is a land filled with magic, after all. A place where dreams come true. And you believe that the dream had been a sign telling you that your happily ever after is near. 

“I’m not going to fly off to the clouds just to find him, Poppy. Not when he might be somewhere close by,” you simply tell your friend as you finish up your hunt for the perfect lips that you are giving your made-up Prince.  

Little do you know that your words are merely moments into coming to reality. 

Because just as you are finishing up your errand, when you are ready to turn back home with your basket filled to the brim with fresh assortments, a commotion begins to rise on the other side of the woods. 

Oblivious to the possible danger that is coming towards you, you continue prancing between the trees, enjoying your time with your animal friends playing by your side. You start singing along to the song that they are singing about your dream prince, the true love’s kiss, and your happily ever after, unknowingly luring the incoming peril that is coming to find you as the sweet tune of your voice echoes through the deep forest. 

On the other side of the woods, beyond the steep hills covered in thick clusters of trees, the sound of a deep, feral roar echoes through the vast woodland.

Gone is the peaceful morning, and the entire forest wakes up to a sudden rising turmoil. 

The trees are shaking with the echoing roar while the ground is rumbling violently, sending wild animals around to scamper away to find places to hide. Some have barely made their safe escape when the dense trees are suddenly parted, and a giant troll bursts through the thickets. 

The creature’s massive foot stumbles as he rushes through. Avoiding the trees and boulders that are getting in his way seems like a struggle, yet his speed has yet to falter even when he can barely stay upright in his hasty run. It isn’t so much of the obstacles that appear on his path that are making it hard for him to run across the woods, but more because of the remnants of the broken restraint still dangling around his ankles. 

As the creature continues to scramble to find escape, a white horse appears to be racing not to far behind. The sound of its hoofs hitting the ground in rapid speed adds to the entire commotion. The steed pushes forward, giving its full strength as it runs between the trees to keep up with the troll, while the rider continues to shout his commands, pushing his steed to keep giving a chance. 

Following behind is yet another man in a horse, barely keeping up with the first rider and the relentless creature running before them. 

“Sir Noah! How did you manage to let that creature escape? He’s running even faster than before!” the first rider shouts with a firm voice.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” the man following the first rider calls out between his heaving breath. He can barely keep his composure while his darker horse seems to be struggling to maintain its speed and trying its best not to get left behind. 

“I was sure that I’ve tied the monster’s hands and feet as strong as I possibly could. I merely step aside to, ugh—” the man gets his breath knocked out of his chest as his steed leaps over a fallen tree, “To rest my old man’s back and all of a sudden, the rope on his hands snaps, and he just rose to his feet and began running.” 

The man stops shouting to catch his breath while trying his hardest to control his loyal horse. Both himself and the horse that he is riding are old and withered, not as young or as strong as the Crown Prince who is riding ahead with his massive white horse. They have all been running and working on the hunt since the break of dawn, yet the horse has yet to show any signs of exhaustion. It doesn’t seem to be losing its strength, just as the Prince’s stamina has yet to falter even when he was the one to fight the creature to its submission less than an hour ago.

“It was the voice!” The man, Sir Noah, manages to scream out once he has his breath steadied. “There was a strong breeze coming while the troll was tied down, and I swear I heard a voice coming with the wind, a voice that sounded so beautiful. Like a birdsong. Perhaps the voice enchanted the troll to gain its strength!”

“Then we must find the source of that voice to stop the troll!” the Prince shouts back, still with vigour that has yet to fade.

“But, Prince—” Sir Noah tries to shout to stop him as the Prince rides ahead, speeding faster away from him. “Prince Jungkook, wait!” 

To Sir Noah’s surprise and disgruntlement, the Prince seems to find joy in this entire predicament as he laughs and shouts to his horse to pick up speed right as the troll stops struggling in his run. “Go, Onyx! Don’t lose him!”

“No, Prince! Your Highness, you need to stop before you hurt yourself,” Sir Noah continues to shout, although his voice is slowly fading as he is beginning to lose his breath once more. 

“No, I won’t. I can do it! I know I can!” Jungkook continues to shout back, almost like he is chanting to himself with pure confidence as he leads his horse to keep its steady pace through the thickets. “I’ve had him before so I can’t give up now.” 

Sir Noah has lost track of time and distance, unaware of how far they have gone since the troll started making his escape. All he can see around him are trees, more trees, a couple of small hills to run over before the land opens up to a small meadow that fades into another part of the forest that is just as dense as where they first started this intense chase. He cannot help but blame himself for his recklessness, even more so as he watches in horror the moment the troll jumps off of a small hill to cut more distance to wherever he is heading to, with the Prince’s horse making a huge leap right after.

“No!” Sir Noah screams out, before his voice turns to a loud screech when his horse follows its younger counterpart to jump off the hill in his shadows. “Lord have mercy!” 

“This is so much fun!” Prince Jungkook shouts with a boastful laugh, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s fright. The excitement that is palpable through his voice only makes Sir Noah’s stomach drop. 

“No, this is not fun, Prince Jungkook!” Sir Noah yells out of frustration before groaning, “Oh dear, the Queen is going to have my head for this.” 

Before he can say more, the previous sound that he heard through the wind is starting to reach him again. He can tell that they are getting close to the source. Close enough for him to listen to the alluring tune that has been calling for the troll more clearly and identify it as a female voice, singing to the animals and the forest, and his fear escalates further. 

Oh yes, there is no doubt that the Queen will have my head for this, Sir Noah wonders to himself as he straightens up and clutches at the horse’s reign tightly to keep it steady. He knows that he is only going to put the Prince in danger, but Sir Noah has no other choice.  

“Your Highness! It’s the voice! The troll is after the one who is singing this melody!” he starts shouting at the Prince, who now has his eyebrows furrowed with deep focus, growing concerned with Sir Noah’s pleading words. 

“Prince Jungkook, you must hurry and stop him before he gets to the singing lady!”

“There you are, sweet little Princess. Such pretty voice. Pretty enough to eat!” 

For a moment, you cannot comprehend what is actually happening. 

One minute, you were walking between the bushes and the flower beds, admiring the wildflowers blooming under the morning sky while humming to the birdsong echoing through the woods. And then, suddenly, the lovely birdsong stopped, the forest fell quiet, and your animal friends became so agitated that their cheerful chirps and giggles faded to whispers. 

The next thing you knew, your peaceful moment with your friends was broken when the ground you were standing on began to quake, the trees up the hill began to shake furiously before they parted, and a giant troll burst through the thickets. He spoke with broken dialect and a menacing tone of voice, followed by an eerie roar coming out of his mouth as he started barrelling his way towards you. 

At first, there is nothing that you can do except to remain frozen. You are too stunned to move, unable to react as you watch this monster running straight towards you. It is also baffling to see that the creature is doing it while screaming and looking so happy about eating you. 

“_______! Snap out of it!!” Poppy suddenly screams, snapping you out of your daze. “We need to run. Now!” 

With a gasp, you hike up your skirt and quickly turn away. “Run, everyone!” you shout at your friends who immediately scatter to find their escape, while you struggle to run the opposite way to confuse the creature. 

Although it doesn’t seem like your effort is needed, because the troll seems to have set his eyes on you and you alone, as none of your fleeing companions catches his eyes and he is still running to get you. “Why is it chasing me?”

“I don’t know, but keep running!” Poppy continues to scream, still perched on your shoulder with her claws sinking into the fabric of your dress as she holds on tightly. 

Normally, you consider yourself quite a runner. There have been times when you would run in the woods, racing against Ada or the wild hares that would often hang out by the lake just for fun. Sometimes you would run with the fairies, even if only to see if you could outrun those who have magic on their side to give them speed. 

Yet for some reason, running seems like a struggle as you try to escape the giant troll that seems so engaged in the thought of grabbing you with its filthy hands. You feel as if there is some weight slowing you down, forgetting the fact that you have a basket filled with assortments hanging in one arm while your long skirt is dragging you back. 

“The basket! Leave it!” Poppy yells at you once she realises that you are struggling and notices the reason why. 

“But it’s for Nana!”

Poppy growls—actually growls—in response. “There’s not even going to be any part of you left to bring them home to Nana if you get freaking eaten by that—that thing!” 

As you take a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing how close the giant beast is getting to you, you realise that Poppy is right. At the corner of your eyes, you see the cluster of narrow trees leading up the hill and aim for it to find your escape, hoping that you can shake him off on a rising terrain. 

It’s going to be a struggle running up the hill, yet your gut feeling tells you that it’s worth the effort. So you make a run for it, clutching the basket tightly to your chest to keep it safe until you can find a place to hide it. 

As you slip between the narrow opening between the trees, you can hear the troll having a hard time following your trail without breaking and getting stumbled by them. You keep running, getting out of breath as you reach the top of the hill, and soon the cluster of trees opens up and grass gives way beneath your feet. 

“We’re running out of trees!” Poppy screams, getting a good grasp of what you have been planning to do. 

“No, we’re not! We’re almost there!” you yell back at her with gasping breath, and with your eyes set on your destination.

Right there. 

Right before your eyes, there stand the twin old elm trees that have grown nearly doubled the height of the hill, with massive branches spreading out to look like two giant canopies of leaves covering the top of the hill. Situated right between them is a massive boulder, firmly standing like the crown of the hill and you have decided — sometime between the hysteria of seeing a troll in this part of the forest and the terror of knowing that he is hunting you — that this place would serve you perfectly in your escape. 

Because that boulder marks the end of the hill, and there is nothing else but a massive drop of cliff with rocky walls and the rough stream waiting below. 

“Hold on, Poppy!” 

Your warning is barely enough to get your friend to tighten her grip on your shoulder when you hop over the boulder, using it to dodge the troll’s hand as he tries to swipe you off the ground. Tossing the basket to the side of the boulder with the hope of keeping it safe until later, you plant your hand on the rock’s surface and swivel around, using it as leverage to switch your direction right before reaching the very edge of the precipice and evade the troll as you roll to the left. 

“Aahhh, Blossom!” 

“Stop running and let Troll catch you!” the troll roars as he fails to grab you, and his voice grows louder, shifting into a pained roar the moment he loses his balance and trips over the boulder. 

Seeing this, a victorious squeal almost escapes your lips. But before you even get the chance to celebrate the success of your escape scheme, you notice too late that your ploy isn’t going as planned. 

“Oh, bollocks!” you cry out when you realise that the troll has fallen a bit too soon. 

Instead of being thrown off the ledge as you had expected he would after tripping over the boulder, the troll is sprawled on top of the rock, with one hand holding on the edge to stop him from falling over. And the troll—although fallen over and is struggling to push himself up—is still determined to grab you. 

Adding salt to your wounded pride, you seem to have also failed to measure the beast’s size. Even sprawled at an odd angle, the troll’s limbs are still long enough to reach you. Sliding back on the slippery rock, you try to put some distance between you, just in time for his massive hand to swipe over the rock, missing the hem of your dress merely inches away. 

In desperate need of escape, Poppy jumps off your shoulder just as you are getting off-balance and nearly falling over the ledge instead. You watch breathlessly as Poppy starts climbing up the tree rapidly in her panic while you feel like you cannot move. 

“Come on, ________!” 

Once again, her voice snaps you out of it, and you begin to follow suit, seeing that there is no escape now with the troll blocking your way back down the hill and the long drop down the cliff walls waiting for you on the other side. Right as you start climbing up the trees, you sense the troll struggling to rise beneath you. Climbing up takes quite an effort when you are in your summer dress, but all the shenanigans you got yourself into growing up may have taught you enough how to climb up quickly. 

From the corner of your eyes, you see the troll rising back up to his feet. Wobbling and swaying around as he tries to find balance over the rocky slip beneath him. But you barely pay attention to the beast when something else is grabbing your attention from not so far away. 

You can hear the sound of hoofs rapidly racing through the trees. You have been hearing this noise for quite some time already, you realise, coming from a distance while you were focused on trying to escape the troll. Maybe it even started at the same time the troll first appeared from that other hill, chasing the beast the best it could even though failing to catch up on time before the troll reached you. 

And now, you can hear it getting closer. And closer. 

You can almost see it, the white horse that is running through the cluster of trees to get to you. Yet your curiosity to know where this stranger is coming from and who might be riding the white horse becomes a distraction, causing you to make another mistake. 

You start to climb over the nearest long branch that looks strong enough to withstand your weight, hoping that it can keep you away from the troll’s reach. Yet you cannot help but keep throwing quick glances over the line of trees, hoping to see this stranger who is racing towards the foray instead of running away from it. 

That is how you miss your footing. 

Within a blink of an eye, instead of perching securely on the branch, you find yourself dangling desperately onto it, your hands barely making it in time to find a firm hold to stop you from falling over. 

“Aaahhh!!” 

“Blossom!” Poppy calls out in panic at the sound of your scream, and she quickly races back down, grabbing onto your wrist as she tries to pull you up. Only that the poor squirrel’s effort seems futile when gravity keeps pulling you down instead of giving in. “Girl, I don’t have enough muscles for this! Pull yourself up!” 

“I’m trying!”

While you and Poppy are panicking and struggling to get you back up on the tree, the troll starts balancing himself on the boulder while humming, “Come here, pretty girl. Come to Troll’s hands!” 

You open your mouth to shout back at the offensive troll with disgust, only to have another voice shouting before you can get your voice out. 

“No! Keep your hands off of her!” 

All heads snap to look at the white horse coming out of the woods. The steed races with full force up the rising terrain. But it is the rider that manages to catch your eyes the most. His eyes look fierce with determination but also a hint of thrill as he focuses on the troll. 

As if he is having so much fun with this hunt and is eager to finish it. 

And he looks captivating as he is doing it. Even more so when he pulls out his sword, wielding it to challenge the beast that barely takes notice, as he is busy trying to grab your ankles. 

But you take notice of him. You also notice the way your heart is racing rapidly for a different reason. 

Unable to process what—or, in this case, who—you are seeing, Poppy speaks first, ”And who in the Fates’ name is that?” 

“That’s—” 

There is no way.  

Your words fail you in your shock and relief. Pure disbelief runs through you, and you almost feel your grip loosening with how astonished you are at what you are witnessing. 

Because there is no possible way for the Prince Charming himself to come and save you. Just like he did in your dream. 

“Hang on! Stay where you are!”

The thrill that Jungkook has been feeling while he was racing across the hills to chase the damn troll is slowly shifting into fright once he gets a clear sight of what is happening. He watches with wide eyes as you desperately dangle from the tree branch, your legs swinging to avoid the troll’s grasp and your hands barely strong enough to hold on. 

He noticed that you stopped trying to pull yourself up for a brief moment, distracted by his arrival. Yet his shout snaps you back to focus, and he is relieved to see you pulling up, trying your best to climb back onto the branch with the help of a—a squirrel? 

Now that he believes that you are going to be safe—even if only for a while—Jungkook focuses on the troll again. This time, he is ready to swing his sword, which reflects the sunlight as Jungkook raises his arm over his head. The strong shine is blinding, and Jungkook uses it to distract the troll and pull his attention away from you. 

“Over here, you damn troll!” he shouts with a wicked laugh that will definitely give Sir Noah another headache. 

With a feral roar, the troll turns to face Jungkook. “You again. Troll don’t want to go with you. Troll want little girl for snacks.” 

A sharp, panicked scream escapes you while Jungkook marches forward with his sword swinging. The troll fights back, bending forward with his arms swinging left and right, back and forth, between trying to grab Jungkook and stopping the sword from reaching his chest—right where he would easily be wounded. 

Yet Jungkook easily evades each swipe of hands, his white horse following his command to escape and slip away while bringing him closer. 

Except while Jungkook manages to avoid the troll’s attacks, you aren’t having as much luck. Because with each swipe of the troll’s hands and each stomp of his feet, the troll causes the tree where you are dangling on to shake and sway along with the force of his movements. And it is making it harder for you to hold on, much less to climb back on top. 

Jungkook waits until the troll is fully facing him before initiating his final attack, making haste about it before you lose your grip and fall over. With a grunt, Jungkook swings his arm back and flings the sword forward, aiming for the troll’s left chest. The sword floats in the air for a brief moment before it strikes its target perfectly. 

The troll roars in pain. His hands reach up to grab the sword—which has lodged deeply into his chest—and he staggers back, losing his balance before he falls over the ledge and starts plummeting down the cliff. 

Unfortunately, the troll refuses to fall alone. Right before his fall, he reaches out, trying to grab onto the elm tree where you are hanging from as if to stop his fall. Yet his grip never takes hold. Only his sharp nails manage to scratch the tree trunk, shaking the giant tree. 

Shaking you, until you finally lose your grip. 

A scream erupts through your lips as you start falling from height. 

You close your eyes shut during your fall, fearing the long drop and the pain that may come after. Except the pain never comes. Instead, you fall right into something that is soft and hard at the same time. 

Warmth engulfs you right away, even before a pair of arms wrap themselves around you. Whatever surface that you have just landed on is beginning to move, rocking back and forth as if it is trying to balance itself under your weight. 

You are not too sure yet if you are safe, so you keep your eyes closed shut. It doesn’t matter if you just witnessed the troll falling off the cliff, you can almost feel the shadow of his presence. As if you still have to avoid his relentless attacks. 

But then a soft voice reassuringly speaks to you, coaxing you to open your eyes, “It’s okay, Princess. I got you.” 

Slowly, your eyes flutter open. And the first thing that you see once your gaze clears out brings those flutters down to your chest. 

A pair of dark-coloured eyes that remind you of the night sky are looking back at you, glowing as if there are a million stars in them. He has a pretty face framed with strands of soft hair that have fallen in a flurry mess, perhaps from racing through the woods on his horse to get to you. 

And that pretty face seems to grow even brighter when the man, your hero, smiles at you. 

It won’t be until later for you to realise that the steady rocking you felt earlier had been the white horse’s movements, as it was struggling to adjust to your weight, while its rider struggled a little to adjust your position on his lap and control his horse until it calmed down. Yet none of it matters now. Not when you are completely entranced with his presence. 

All because it feels like you have just witnessed your creation—the dream prince statue that you worked hard on this morning—coming to life right before your eyes. 

“It’s you. The boy I saw in my dreams.” The words slip out of your lips before you can stop yourself. 

Your voice comes out as nothing more but a whisper, but there is no doubt that he can hear you perfectly. You can see it from the way his smile is growing wider. 

As if it pleases him to see you so stunned, while he takes pride in this moment when he says,

“It’s me. Your Prince Charming.” 

He winks, and your skin flushes with warmth. “I’m Prince Jungkook. But you can call me Jungkook.” 

An incredulous laugh begins to bubble its way up your throat, yet not a sound comes out of your lips as you look at him, stunned, as you are still feeling as if you are caught in a daze which leaves you speechless. It was mere moments ago when you had almost gotten trampled down and then eaten by a giant troll after all, and then he came out of nowhere, rescuing you from said troll right before you ended up getting flattened into the forest’s grounds or deep into his stomach. 

And then you suddenly found yourself falling into your hero’s lap — quite literally. And that hero turns out to be Prince Charming himself, who seems to have pride as massive as the entire kingdom of Andalasia as he speaks about himself while smiling broadly at you. 

It is quite a lot to take in, and you have no idea what to say or how to react. The only thing that you can do is to sit there, perched sideways above his massive horse with his arms holding you to him and keeping you from falling, while your gaze remains locked on the deep eyes that were similar to the ones you vaguely saw in your dreams. 

Unaware of the reason why you are stunned to silence, the Prince, Jungkook, may have misread your loss for words as fear. Because he suddenly begins rubbing your back while speaking gently to you, “It’s okay. You are safe now.”  

“Yes, thank you,” you mutedly whisper, before you finally snap out of it and realise — he did just save your life! “Oh, that’s right! You saved my life.” 

“I guess I did.” There is a hint of relief in the sound of his soft chuckle, making you wonder if he was deeply concerned with you because of your silence. “Do you live anywhere near these woods? Will you be able to return home?” 

Blinking your eyes, you turn and look around to notice how far you have gone. It’s not like you had paid much attention to where you were heading while running away from danger. 

Yet you are quite familiar with this place, recognising the twin elm trees on the top of the hill which have always been visible when you look out the windows of your bedchamber. Except the distance has always made them seem smaller than their actual size, now that you are looking at it from a closer angle. 

You are surprised to realise that you have deviated quite far from your original route, and most obviously, away from home. So surprised that you have no idea what to say to the Prince. 

He asks you again, sounding more concerned this time, even if his smile has yet to fade. “Where do you live? How about I give you a ride home?” 

Before you can answer him, a sharp gasp breaks the moment between you. Followed with a rushed, panicked voice, saying, “N-no, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you should really go back to the castle. I’m sure the lady is going to be fine without—” 

“Forgive me, Sir Noah. But I won’t be much of a gentleman if I don’t take the lady home right away and let her run home on her own after facing such peril,” the Prince says, cutting the other gentleman off before he can say more, without even looking away from you.

You, on the other hand, are shocked that you have failed to notice that there is someone else who has been there with the Prince. Too captivated with your hero’s arrival to realise it. Now, however, as you look over the Prince’s shoulder, you see an older—much older, looking at his partly greying hair and his deep scowl—gentleman on a darker and slightly older horse slowly coming up to the Prince. 

“Go back to the castle and collect some men to retrieve the troll,” the Prince continues as he pulls on the rein, ready to command his horse to start moving again. He only looks briefly over his shoulder to greet his companion with a smirk, “I’ll see you back at the castle.” 

“But wait, my Prince! Your Highness!” the gentleman shouts, yet the Prince has already ordered his horse to set off to leave this place. But not before he expertly guides the horse to leap across the boulder, giving him a chance to snatch the basket full of goods which you tossed away earlier and allowing Poppy to jump onto your lap. 

“Is everyone ready?” he asks, eyeing you as you hold your basket and Poppy securely in your arms. Without waiting for your answer, he nods and shouts an order. The horse takes off, heading downhill at a rapid pace as if it hadn’t been racing across the forest and working hard to help its master defeat the troll. 

The other gentleman, Sir Noah, tries and fails to catch up as the horse begins galloping through the thick woods. The gentleman’s voice quickly fades in the distance as he calls out to Prince Charming desperately to make him come back, “Prince Jungkook! You must not do this!” 

After reaching halfway across the forest, Prince Jungkook orders his horse to slow down, and the journey continues leisurely. It seems like he is giving his dear horse a chance to take it easy while he takes a moment to enjoy this moment of calmness. 

“This is a beautiful forest,” he muses as he looks around. You cannot help but straighten up proudly at his comment. Because you cannot help but agree with him. 

Here, away from the scene of chaos, everything feels right again. The breeze feels calming after the entire ordeal. The sound of rustling leaves above you becomes music to your ears, even though it doesn’t do much to drown the rapid sound of your heartbeat. Even the birdsong has returned. The rustling sounds in the bushes let you know that the little critters have gone out of their hiding places. 

As if peace has been restored, and the upsetting event which disrupted the entire forest has been erased from existence. 

But while the Prince is comfortably taking everything in, you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. 

Feeling your gaze, Prince Jungkook suddenly looks at you. His deep, amused gaze feels so overwhelming that your face immediately starts to flush warmly. You look away when it becomes too much. 

“The other gentleman from before,” you ask with a small voice, “Is it really all right to leave him behind and send him away? He seemed—concerned.” 

Jungkook laughs. There is something wicked and naughty in the way he is smiling when you look at him again. “There is no need to worry about Sir Noah. He gets concerned of almost about everything. Mostly about me, though.” 

“Ah, I see.” 

Falling into a brief pause, you feel the tension slowly being chipped away. You realise only now that Jungkook has been using the hand that is not holding the horse’s rein to hold your waist, keeping you safe against his chest.

“So, um—Prince Jungkook?” you speak again to break the tension between you, “What were you doing in the forest this early in the day?” 

Jungkook’s eyebrows form a deep crease at your question. “The castle received news about a troll that has been going on a rampage—ruining farmers’ properties, stealing crops and livestock from those poor farmers, and threatening to loot nearby villages. Sir Noah and I left the castle before dawn to catch the troll before it could reach another village.” 

He stops with a grimace before looking at your face again. “Perhaps I should apologise. If only I had done a better job at capturing the troll and stopping it from escaping us, you wouldn’t have found yourself in such peril.” 

You wave your hand at him. “Oh, that’s all right. You saved my life, so all is forgiven.” 

The crease between his eyebrows eases when he smiles. “You said you saw me in your dreams?” 

Your eyes grow wide when you recall the way you had blurted out about your silly dream when you had just met him. “Yes, yes I did!” you nervously admit to him, before adding with a whisper, “I—think?” 

Jungkook’s grin widens as he admits, “I may have seen you in mine too, Princess.” 

“Oh, I’m not a princess. I’m just _______,” you say to him with a nervous chuckle, “Although my friends and my grandmother often call me Blossom.” 

“Blossom. Interesting nickname,” he muses, “My mother used to call me ‘her silly little rabbit,’ although I’m not quite sure what that means.” His eyebrows crease again as he thinks deeply about it, making you realise that he looks—adorable, when he isn’t focused on defeating beasts and having fun racing with his horse. 

Yet your admiration fades when you come to a jolt, realising what he meant. “Your mother? The—the Queen?” you ask him and he nods. You have many questions running through your head right now, yet you simply ask him the one thing that seems to have gotten stuck in your mind, “What did you mean that you may have seen me too?” 

With a grin, Jungkook answers you excitedly, “I might have. I don’t always remember my dreams, but I’m sure that I’ve seen you in it.” He seems sure of himself that you don’t feel any need to question it. Any doubt that you may feel disappears anyway when he is looking at you with those eyes of his, and with a smile that makes your heartbeat jump and gallop. Just like his white horse earlier, especially when you hear him say, “That’s why I know that our meeting must have been fated, don’t you agree?” 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Is that so?” 

“I know so,” he confidently says as he pulls you even closer to his chest. “Our dreams have shown us that we are meant to be. That’s why, I think we should get married.” 

You let out a surprised gasp. “M-married?” The sound of your laughter erupts through the woods, drowning the sound of Poppy’s surprised screech. 

“Yes, absolutely. We can get married tomorrow.” 

The flutters that have been growing in your chest start to go wild. “To-tomorrow?!”

“Yes, isn’t that how the story goes?” he says with a wide smile on his face, reminding you of the smile that you wore all morning when you were talking about your dream prince. It seems as if you are still dreaming now, or that you have been brought back to your dream from last night when he recounts what had just transpired, making you think back about your dream. “I saved you from the evil monster who tried to harm you, swept you off your feet, and then we’ll marry in the castle, and then we’ll share our true love’s kiss—” 

Your eyes grow wide. “A true love’s kiss,” you murmur to yourself, to which Poppy turns to look at you with an expression of shock and bewilder. Yet you pay no mind to her, when you are in too much in awe, unable to believe that this is real.  

“—and we’ll live happily ever after,” the Prince continues with a beaming smile. “Isn’t that right? So why wait? What do you say?” 

You can hear your grandmother’s voice in your head, reminding you not to get lost in your dreams and to always think rationally. You can also feel Poppy’s panicked little grip on your dress and the sound of her stuttering, asking you to pay attention to her. 

But every part of your dreams—both from the one you have harboured since you were a young girl and the one you had last night—comes to drown everything to the background. This is it, you wonder to yourself, this is my dream coming true!

With an incredulous laugh slipping out of your lips, you wrap your arms around his neck and say, “Yes, let’s get married. Tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook joins you in laughter, neither of you noticing the way Poppy is now shaking her head rapidly in disbelief when he says, “Then I shall send the news to the castle and we will have our magical wedding by noon tomorrow.”

“Yes!” you excitedly say with a cheer, “Oh, I can’t wait.”  

Your chest is filled with joy and a flutter of nerves that it almost feels like you are about to burst. Things are happening so quickly, so suddenly, so soon. You had woken up this morning with joy and hope that came from the dream you had about your prince, believing that it was a sign from the universe. You never expected to have your dream coming into reality when the day has yet to reach past noon. 

But here you are now, looking deep into your prince’s eyes as he is taking you home for the last time, merely a step away from your happily ever after. 

Once Prince Jungkook has succeeded in bringing you safely back home to your anxious grandmother, he immediately races back to the home castle. He wastes no time making his way to the Queen’s sitting room, where he knows he will be able to find his mother enjoying her afternoon downtime. 

“Queen Mother, I have news!” Prince Jungkook calls out as he marches into the den with a wide smile on his face. There is an air of joy and pleasure following him as he comes to greet his mother. 

Queen Rosalyne was in the middle of arranging a flower bouquet when Jungkook rushed in. His excitement bounces against the walls, making her smile as she raises her head to look at her son. “News? What is it now, my Prince?” 

Jungkook is nearly breathless when he stands before the Queen, announcing proudly. “I have good news! I know you’ll be happy.” 

Holding back her soft laughter, the Queen sits back down and urges Jungkook to continue, “Fine. Tell me.” 

“I have found my true love. The one I’ll be sharing my true love’s kiss with,” Jungkook declares proudly with his arms spread wide.  

“Is that so?” Queen Rosalyne asks with her eyebrows raised. Soft laughter escapes her, while Jungkook has to hold back his own laughter when he notices that the Queen is saying the same thing as you did when he brought up the idea earlier. 

“Who is she? From which kingdom did she come?” 

Jungkook is so overwhelmed with bubbling excitement that his entire body is almost shaking. “Her name is ________, and she is from here, Andalasia.” 

“Really?” the Queen asks, though she sounds quite doubtful about it. “And where did you meet this girl?” 

“It’s actually an interesting story,” Jungkook says before he launches into a story time and shares with his mother everything that has happened since he left the castle this morning.

Starting from the reports about the troll and how he decided to depart at dawn to capture it, how he managed to defeat the troll the first time, only for Sir Noah to accidentally let the creature escape. Then Jungkook starts pacing back and forth as he enthusiastically describes how he raced through the forest to catch up with the troll, while the beast was focused on capturing you, and how he had saved you from the creature. 

“It was love at first sight, Queen Mother. Just like the kind that people talk and sing about in their songs. The kind that is celebrated in written stories,” Jungkook concludes his story as he turns to his mother. “It was fate’s work of bringing us together, so it would be right for me to take her hand in marriage, share with her the true love’s kiss, so our love can spread magic all over our mighty kingdom.” 

Silence falls between them. Jungkook feels nervous when the Queen barely shows any reaction. 

“Mother?” he asks, slowly taking the seat next to the Queen. “Did you hear what I just said?” 

“Yes, I hear you. I’m not quite sure that I heard you perfectly.” The Queen looks at Jungkook with a deep gaze, her brows furrowing when she asks him, “Did you say you wanted to—marry this girl?” 

“I did. It would only make sense. That way we can celebrate with everyone else as we share our true love’s kiss.” 

Queen Rosalyne purses her lips. She dislikes any talk about the ‘true love’s kiss,’ and she finds that she doesn’t enjoy it the most when she has to hear it coming from her own son. Yet seeing how excited the thought seems to be making him, as the Prince’s eyes are shining so brightly as he speaks about his possible marriage, and his smile grows wide, genuine, and free—something that the Queen hasn’t been able to see for a long, long time—she finds no reason to deny his wish. 

It seems so wrong to deny him happiness. If any, the Queen feels relieved that she finally gets to send him off into the world and give him a reason to stop chasing beasts and monsters throughout the kingdom. 

“Fine,” Queen Rosalyne says with a light scoff, “Have it your way. But you must deal with it all on your own. Have Sir Noah help you prepare for the feast if you wish to do this entire thing tomorrow.” 

Prince Jungkook is so elated to gain the Queen’s approval that he is practically bouncing on his feet. The Queen holds back a smile, wondering to herself, my silly little rabbit. 

She recalls how frustrated Jungkook made her when he was a child, unable to hold back his energy as he kept hopping and running all over the castle. The Queen had sniffed when she was too exhausted to catch up to him and called him out, “Stop playing like a wild rabbit and calm down,” and the nickname stuck with him—and she has used it to call him with it more endearingly—once he started growing up. 

Lost in her thoughts, the Queen is caught by surprise when Jungkook bows before her and takes her hand to kiss the back of it. “Thank you, Mother. Your Majesty. You are truly a great and wise mother. I could never repay you.” 

Queen Rosalyne is too stunned to speak. She isn’t one to get affected by emotions too easily, but Jungkook’s words seem to have stirred something inside her heart that has grown cold and frozen after so long. She says nothing as Jungkook turns to leave the chamber, leaving her with her running thoughts and the unsettling feeling that has been growing so intensely in her chest since the moment Jungkook mentioned your name. 

At the center of Queen Rosalyne’s sitting chamber, there is a small indoor garden with a small water fountain which is made of black stone. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges of black blooming roses, patches of green grass and white cobblestones covering the ground, the water fountain becomes the center point of the space which represents serenity and solitude. 

Yet this is also the place where the Queen often practices her magic, using the secret spells that she keeps mostly to herself. She does this only when she is all alone, whether to watch over her kingdom and cast spells to protect the land, or for reasons that have nothing to do with the well-being of her people. 

By the time evening comes, the Queen often uses her spells to fulfil her secret desires. Something that she is planning to do to ease the uneasiness which has been plaguing her ever since the conversation she shared with Jungkook. 

As the day slowly shifts into dusk, and the Queen is quite sure that Jungkook has been gone long enough to be deep in arranging things for tomorrow, Queen Rosalyne summons Sir Noah into her chamber. 

“The Prince has found a maiden to marry,” Sir Noah announces upon his arrival, meeting the Queen directly in the secret garden which he has frequently visited before. 

“Yes, he had come to me this afternoon to announce his intention to marry a girl,” the Queen says, in a most calm, yet dubious tone of voice. “I’m going to assume that you have met this—girl, since I know that you were the one to join the Prince in his excursion today.” 

Swallowing hard to ease his nerves, Sir Noah nods. “I was with the Prince when the maiden, uh—fell into Prince Jungkook’s arms.” 

This has the Queen’s attention. Turning away from the black blooming roses that she has been tending to, Queen Rosalyne regards Sir Noah with her eyebrows raised. “How—romantic,” she murmurs, “And where did this chance encounter happen?” 

Sir Noah clears his throat before answering, “The Amaranth Forest, Your Majesty. It was where Prince Jungkook and I ended up after hunting the giant troll that has been terrorising the people in Sunny Brook Hills.” 

All of a sudden, the Queen’s shoulders grow tense. “Amaranth, you say?” 

The cold tone of the Queen’s voice and the expression she wears on her face draws chill running down Sir Noah’s spine. He has been working in the castle with the Queen for a long, long time. Long enough to know that she is not happy to hear the information that he just gave her.

After processing this, Queen Rosalyne rises to her feet and turns, making her way to the magic water fountain. The Queen merely stands before the fountain when the thing reacts to her presence. Immediately, the air grows cold and heavy, and it becomes even more intense as Queen Rosalyne raises both of her arms over the water fountain. 

The surface of the water ripples as a dark green light emerges from her hands, shining brightly while the Queen enchants her spell. The green light descends into the water, blending with the ripples as the mana shines in dark green. 

The Queen steps aside and gestures at Sir Noah to come closer. “Show me.”

Gulping nervously, Sir Noah comes to the Queen's side and slowly folds the cuff of his sleeve. Offering his hand, the Queen raises her sharp nails and slits the skin of his palm, causing a small wound which is enough to let a few drops of blood taint the water inside the fountain. Once the blood blends into the water, the surface ripples intensely until the green light within starts to stretch out, and images begin to appear on the water, framed by the green mana sparkling under the calm ripples. 

The Queen bends over the fountain as she is shown the series of events that happened within the depths of the Amaranth Forest this morning. Everything seems to unravel just the way Jungkook relayed it to the Queen. 

The giant troll in his escape. The Prince’s relentless chase. And the maiden who was running from the wicked troll before she finally fell into the Prince’s arms. 

The scene in the water changes when the Queen swaps her palm over the surface, turning back time to see your daily life in the small cabin with your grandmother. She can see you singing with your forest friends, and then cooking and laughing with your grandmother. 

Seeing your grandmother, the Queen’s jaw clenches with recognition.

Too nervous to remain silent, as he is unable to read the Queen’s hard expression and lack of words, Sir Noah begins to explain the events that happened this morning, “The troll was lured into the forest by the maiden’s voice, who was singing to the forest’s creatures. And right after the Prince was able to apprehend the troll, he captured her as she—” 

“How uncanny,” Queen Rosalyne murmurs almost to herself, completely disregarding Sir Noah’s rapid blabbering. 

“Y-your Majesty?” 

Straightening up to her full height, the Queen moves her hand over the water to enlarge the image that she is now seeing on the surface of the water. With a glance, Sir Noah can see a close-up of your face as you are riding on the horse with Prince Jungkook, before the image switches back to you working in the gardens with your grandmother. 

“She looks just like her. Exactly like her,” Queen Rosalyne continues to murmur gently, astonished by the sight of you—a commoner girl from the magic forest that even Sir Noah has never met before. 

“The maiden? Who are you referring to that would look like her, Your Majesty?” 

The Queen gives him no answer, and instead waves her palm over the water until the image dissolves, leaving nothing more but the calm, clear water. 

“When will this wedding take place? Has it been decided yet?” 

Sir Noah wrings his hands together with nerves. The tension has risen exponentially within the chamber. The change in the Queen’s attitude makes him wary, and he has no idea what is happening. 

“Prince Jungkook insisted on having it soon. As—as soon as tomorrow, Your Majesty. The entire castle is already in the height of the preparation for the ceremony.” 

The Queen holds back the urge to curse as she turns away, enraged, and she wipes her gardening tools off her work table. The noise and clutters and the flying objects cause Sir Noah to flinch. He has no idea what is currently going on inside the Queen’s mind and chooses to remain silent rather than risk having her unleash her rage on him.

He has witnessed what happened to those who aren’t careful with their words, especially when the Queen is losing her patience like this.

“Call it off,” the Queen suddenly speaks. Her voice has calmed down, yet there is an eerie chill in her tone which makes Sir Noah shudder in fear. 

“My-my Queen? What do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne turns to face him and snaps. “I’m talking about the wedding, you fool! Call it off!” 

“But-but Your Majesty, you have given your approval to the wedding,” Sir Noah struggles to speak, “The preparation is already underway. Everything is almost ready, even the Prince has gathered enough—” 

The Queen releases a frustrated snarl. Her energy erupts, and a few potted plants within the garden explode under the power of her rage. 

Deep down, the Queen didn’t think that it would be possible for Jungkook to make things happen within less than a day. The boy has always been hasty, and she has secretly hoped that he would stumble upon obstacles and give up on the idea of having a wedding so suddenly and have it postponed either way. But now—

Now it’s too late. 

When the Queen first gave Jungkook her approval to marry you, she never thought that you would be someone who would be related to her past. She should have been more careful and made sure to find out more about your identity first before she said anything. She had a feeling that something was amiss, and now she is regretting that she hadn’t been listening to her gut. 

How? How could this be?

Holding her head in her hands, the Queen chastises herself for being so reckless. Memories of her past come back to haunt her. Guilt, remorse, and hatred, all mix into one. And in her mind, everything blends together to form the shape of your face. 

The face that she wishes so desperately to forget. 

“Fine. Then I shall do it myself,” the Queen finally says with an eerie calmness in her voice. 

“My Queen? What—what do you mean?” 

Queen Rosalyne looks at her loyal aide once more and raises her chin. “I’ll make sure the wedding never happens. My son can marry, as long as it’s not with her,” she says as she slowly walks closer to Sir Noah, who can only stare at her with his eyes widening in fear. 

“And you are going to help me make it happen, wouldn’t you?” the Queen whispers to him as she gently places the tip of her finger on Sir Noah’s chin, forcing him to only look at her eyes, unable to move or look away. 

Gulping hard, Sir Noah quickly nods his head and faintly whispers, “Yes, my Queen.” 

The steady rocking of the carriage taking you to the castle should have been able to soothe your anxiety. Maybe lull you to sleep, even. 

Yet you have been too anxious that your eyes remain wide. Your hands continue to fidget on your lap and trace along your wedding dress. Not that you have no faith in yourself about the dress. But focusing on making sure that you haven’t missed a seam feels better than looking out the window and focusing on how close you are getting to your destination. 

Soon enough—much sooner than expected—the carriage stops with a jolt. The rough sound of cobblestones cracking under the wheels snaps you back to focus, forcing you to raise your head just as a royal guard opens the door for you.

“Welcome to Castle Andalasia.” 

Clutching the skirt of your wedding dress, you slowly step out of the carriage. Yet you fail to take notice of how tense your body has gotten. Your muscles have grown so stiff that your steps become clumsy, causing you to lose your footing. 

“Oh, my!” 

Barely catching yourself from falling, a nervous giggle escapes you as you straighten yourself up before anyone can step up to help. “I’m fine, so sorry.” 

The royal guard steps away, leaving you alone with your little friends who have decided to keep you company, all jumping out of the carriage to surround you. 

Standing at the castle's threshold, just a few steps away from entering through the main gate, you feel as if you are walking into a dream. There is a giddy feeling rushing through your body that is hard to shake. The urge to pinch yourself is also strong, yet there is nothing that you can do but clutch your skirt tighter until you feel pain in your palms to know that this is real. 

That you are now standing right in front of the castle. 

The castle.

The place where Queen Rosalyne resides with Prince Charming and her loyal aides. And you are not here simply to come for a formal visit like other common people would do to seek an audience with the Queen to confide about their problems. You are here today for the wedding. 

And it will be your wedding. 

It still hasn’t truly sunk in yet that you are to be married to Prince Charming. To marry Prince Jungkook, who is loved by everyone in Andalasia for his heroic actions in defeating all the beasts and monsters posing threats to the kingdom. 

Before proceeding further, you take a moment to turn around, taking one final look at yourself through the reflection you see on the glass window of your carriage. 

Pride blooms within as you look at your wedding dress. The dress is immaculate, handcrafted by your own talented hands since the moment your wedding date was made official and your loving grandmother gave her blessings. Despite her misgivings on your upcoming wedding day, your grandmother stayed up with you, assisting you as you spent all night creating this dress. 

Looking at yourself, you must admit that this dress is your true masterpiece.

The bodice of the dress is made of delicate lacework that hugs your figure perfectly while hiding your flaws. The floral patterns on the bodice represent the beauty of the forest and your lovely garden back home perfectly, intertwining and cascading down your form like fresh vines with wildflowers blooming at every tip. 

The lace, meticulously stitched by your own hands, is filled with every drop of hope and love that you harbour for the happily ever after that you have dreamed about for as long as you can remember. 

From your shoulders, down to your arms, a similar ensemble of delicate lacework covers your skin in a comforting fit, adding modesty and elegance to your dress which seems presentable for your special day at the castle.  

From the waist, the fabric flows down like a river of light, billowing into a skirt that trails down to your ankles, rippling in subtle waves with each step that you take. Layers of soft, finely crafted tulle form the skirt to create an illusion of a cloud, making it seem as if you are floating as you slowly turn and twirl to see yourself in every angle. 

Around your shoulders, a veil made of the finest gossamer falls in a delicate cascade down to your back, instead of acting like a cover to shield your face from view. You have the veil fastened to your hair, which is styled in a fancy yet simple twisted bun. Tiny pearls and crystals in different sizes and shapes are woven into the fabric of the veil, and they sparkle like dewdrops under the soft glow of the bright sunlight. 

Growing even more tense with nerves, your hands continue to clench and unclench around your dress, feeling lost with nothing else to hold on to. You wish that your grandmother had been fit enough to be here so you could hold her hand for support, yet you force that thought away, knowing that she hasn’t been well enough to travel far from home. Much less to walk you down the aisle to give you away to the Prince. 

“Stop that right now before you ruin your dress,” Poppy suddenly scolds you, slapping the back of your hands until you let go from where she is perched on the side of the carriage. 

“Here,” she says, shoving a small bouquet of flowers—filled with a collection of wildflowers, carnations, and baby’s-breath—into one of your hands while Brew, the wild badger, and the white bunnies run around the skirt of your dress as they shove a glowing tiara into your other hand.

“Put this on your head, Blossom,” they sing together cheerfully, forcing you to lean down as you accept their little gift and gently place it on the crown of your head. 

“Thank you, my sweet little angels. I don’t know what I would do without you,” you whisper with a content sigh, feeling your nerves calming down as you look at your little friends.  

Your eyes meet Poppy’s worried gaze as she sighs. “Are you really sure about this, ______?” 

Smiling at your friend, you bend down to match her gaze. You know that Poppy has been feeling unsure about all of this. She may have kept her words to herself when the two of you were on your ride home with Prince Jungkook yesterday, yet you could still sense her concern along the way. She has also voiced her concerns about how quickly everything is unfolding, yet she did nothing to stop you from carrying on with this wedding plans when you showed how hopeful and confident you were with your decision. 

Even your grandmother had been worried when you first came home with the news. Yet the Prince was there with you when he asked for her permission to marry you, which melted her heart a little that she had no other choice but to let you go. 

“I am sure. What are the odds that I was to meet with Prince Charming the morning after I dreamt about him? It was definitely a sign from fate, which I must follow if I want to find my happily ever after. Surely, you’d understand.”

You said the same thing last night, when Poppy was there to help you finish your wedding dress. The same thing you also said to your grandmother once Prince Jungkook left to return to the castle, reassuring her that fate wouldn’t have given you the signs if this wasn’t meant to be.

“I do. I’m happy for you,” Poppy says with a small smile, “But you must promise me that you’ll never leave us behind and forget about us.” 

“Never. The forest will always be my home. I’m sure Prince Jungkook is open to helping me make arrangements so I can still spend time with you,” you gently reassure her, “And for me to visit grandmother too from time to time.” 

Poppy shakes her head and shrugs. “All right, if you say so,” she says, finally giving in, “What are you waiting for, then? It’s time to go.” 

Your other forest friends who have been silent while watching you and Poppy going back and forth about the wedding are now cheering for you to go. “Let’s go, Blossom! Go!” 

Their positive energy quickly rubs on you. It helps build up your excitement. A bubble of laughter comes out of you as you feel every bit of your apprehension being chipped away. 

“All right, I’m ready!” you shout, inciting more cheers from your friends. “Let’s go watch me get married!” 

Hiking up your skirt just enough so you won’t be stepping on the hem, you turn and start to track down the pathway leading to the main gate of the castle, carrying with you a new determination and your little friends shadowing your footsteps.

At the main gate, you are welcomed by a familiar face. Standing right before the gate is Sir Noah, still looking as graceful as how you remember him. Wearing a royal suit in dark plum colours and gold linings, his greying hair neatly combed back instead of falling down his face, he looks just like any royal advisor would. 

A smile grows on his face when he sees you coming near, and you greet him with a curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Sir Noah.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss. Welcome to Castle Andalasia,” he says in return. As you straighten back up, you see him looking around you while looking confused. “Are you, perhaps—on your own? Do you not have anyone with you today?” 

Smiling ruefully, you slowly shake your head. “I no longer have any family other than my grandmother,” you answer with a soft voice. “It’s unfortunate that my grandmother isn’t doing well and she couldn’t travel far in a carriage.” 

Something flashes in Sir Noah’s gaze—surprise, pity, sadness, and an odd look of guilt, although you cannot understand why he would feel so guilty about hearing this—before his expression clears to normal. 

“But, there is nothing to worry about,” you cheerfully add, “because I have my friends here with me to witness this wonderful moment.” 

Sir Noah raises his eyebrows while your friends release a loud cheer. Yet Sir Noah quickly clears his throat and shakes his head. “I see. Unfortunately, I’m afraid your friends will have to enter separately. They are guests, after all, and you might need time to finish preparing.”

While your friends express their displeasure with a series of protesting sounds, you keep a smile on your face to change Sir Noah’s mind. “Oh, but—these friends can help me get ready for the ceremony,” you let out a nervous laugh as you try to convince him, “They were the ones who helped me make this dress too.” 

“And they’ve done a marvellous job,” Sir Noah smoothly says, “But I can assure you that our palace maids will be able to help you, and it will be better for your friends to simply enjoy the ceremony as guests, don’t you agree?” 

Right beside you, Poppy stares at Sir Noah with a scowl on her face. Yet she also sees you getting nervous again because of the sudden change of circumstances. That is why—reluctant as she is to leave you—Poppy masks her emotions and turns to help calm you down. 

“It’s okay, Blossom. I’m sure Prince Jungkook has ordered the palace maids to assist you. We’ll be seeing you later inside, okay?” 

Still feeling unsure, you eventually agree. “Okay,” you murmur to Poppy before turning to Sir Noah, “But Poppy will be the one walking me down the aisle in my grandmother’s place.” 

Sir Noah barely hides his displeasure this time. With his jaw clenched, he releases a sigh and says, ”Fine. That can be arranged. But you really should go now, or else, you’ll be late for your own wedding.” 

“Oh, right! Absolutely.” 

Finally, with a deep sigh of relief, Sir Noah steps aside to let the royal guards open the main gate for you to enter. “Follow this path right here to enter the royal garden, and someone will see you to show you where to go,” Sir Noah instructs you while gesturing towards the long-winded stone-covered pathway leading you towards the maze-like garden. With lines of green hedges on either side of the pathway and a wooden arch-shaped pergola covered in vines waiting for you halfway into the garden. 

“Okay, here we go,” you whisper to yourself, saying it with a clear mind as a self-pep talk before you start walking again. 

With your hands holding your skirt up, your head held high, and a long, deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat, you begin to walk down the pathway towards the center of the garden where the wedding ceremony is about to be held. 

While you keep getting further away from your friends, Poppy cannot find it in her to look away. Call it a gut feeling, but the poor squirrel feels uneasy about letting you go off on your own. But she doesn’t really have a choice now, does she? 

She is no longer in the forest where she gets to call the shots, and this shady old man next to them is the one controlling the situation. 

Poppy throws a side glance at the man who you called as Sir Noah. “So where are we supposed to go?” 

The smile that Sir Noah gives her then brings chill through her tiny body. “Come with me.” 

The group of little animals look at each other before they follow Sir Noah through a separate pathway. Here, the path is covered with a rougher kind of gravel, and the vines and hedges look more unkempt. The further they walk, the closer they huddle together in fear, while Sir Noah barely cares to soothe their worries. 

Even his warm welcome earlier has shifted. He acts more cold with the animals and is even rough when he sends the royal guards away. 

They continue to walk until an iron gate appears down the pathway. It looks a bit rusty, and Poppy has an odd feeling about all of this when she sees Sir Noah pulling out a key from his pocket. 

The iron gate creeks heavily when he opens it, causing all the animals to grimace. “You can enter through this gate,” Sir Noah gestures toward the other side of the gate, and every inch of her muscles fight back to stop Poppy from walking forward.

“Where are you leading us to?” she snaps, and Sir Noah’s expression darkens. 

“Are you insinuating that I’m separating you from the maiden?” 

Brew, now shaking in fear, innocently whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, “But this isn’t the way to the royal garden.” 

Your forest friends may not have had any experience visiting the castle, but they are wild animals from the forest, capable of telling the difference between the well-kept garden and the wild. Beyond the iron gate, the air flows differently. The grasses are thicker, and they can all smell the scent of the muddy lake from all the way here. 

“You are sending us away from the castle,” Poppy growls, absolutely pissed off that the one that you have trusted to take care of your friends is doing this behind your back. 

Sending them away from you, from the wedding, and back out there into the wild. 

“What is going on? Is _____ even safe?” 

“What are you planning to do?” 

Poppy’s little friends begin to protest once they also sense that something is wrong, while the scowl on Sir Noah’s face deepens. “Oh, bollocks. You are too loud,” he snaps. All so suddenly, he lifts a massive shovel that seems to come out of nowhere and starts swinging it towards Poppy and her friends, forcing them to run towards the opened gate before they can get hurt. 

“Now, shoo! Get out of here!” he shouts between each swing. 

Once every single one of your little friends is out the gate, Sir Noah throws the shovel away and closes the iron gate. The sound of the lock being latched back in place pierces through the animals’ chests. 

“Nooooo!” 

“Blossom!” 

Some of them begin snarling and growling, even if they are completely powerless against the tall, elegant, yet evil human before them. 

“What about Blossom?” Brew asks while shaking, both in fear and rage, “What’s going to happen to our friend?” 

Sir Noah leans down, showing his evil smirk as he peeks through from between the iron bars. “Don’t worry about your friend. We’ll make sure that she’s in good hands.” 

With his evil laugh, Sir Noah turns away, leaving your frightened animal friends behind. 

“Where is the Prince? I know that Prince Jungkook will never stand for this!” Poppy shouts in her last effort to threaten Sir Noah, only for the latter to ignore her words, and the sound of his laughter continues to echo further away before he disappears into the royal garden. 

At the depth of the royal garden, you find yourself getting lost. 

It turns out that this place is a maze, confirming your first suspicion when you first laid eyes on the winding pathway disappearing between the tall green hedges. The deeper you walk into the garden, the higher the hedges grow, and the thicker the trees and bushes around you become. The variety of flowers can’t help much to show you where you are, since everything looks the same no matter where you go. 

While worrying about not being able to find your way, you also worry about your friends. You wish you had insisted on having Poppy come with you. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t feel so alone and she could help you find the way by using her sharp senses. 

Will they be alright, you wonder as you think about your furry friends. But knowing that they are in the hands of Sir Noah gives you some peace of mind. Surely, the kind gentleman will be able to help and keep them safe. Right? 

But speaking of Sir Noah—

I thought he said that someone would come to see me and show me the way. But where are they? 

You have been walking for a while, yet there is nobody in sight. Not even a shadow of a person. It seems odd to think that the royal garden will be this empty, especially with a wedding happening this afternoon. 

Turning at a corner, you find yourself at an opening between the maze. A small gazebo is placed at the center with wooden benches inside. Your exhaustion draws you towards it, and with your eyes focused on the benches that seem comfortable for you to sit on, you don’t notice it when a movement suddenly happens from nearby. 

The rustling sound of the bushes is the only warning that you get before someone suddenly emerges from the shadows.

“Aaahh!” you scream in fear, while the figure before you quickly apologises. 

“Oh, dear me. I’m so sorry, dearest,” an old woman’s voice speaks to you, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Eyes still widened in fear, you look at the person before you. Instead of a royal guard or a palace maid, you are met with an old woman wearing a long dress in an earthly colour under a worn-out cloak that hangs to the ground. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you answer with a nervous chuckle. “It’s a harmless mistake. Are you—are you from around here? I think I’ve gotten lost. I’m supposed to be at the wedding spot by now, but I haven’t seen anyone.” 

The old woman smiles. “Oh, you poor thing. His Highness the Prince should’ve done better to prepare a guard for his bride,” she complains, tsk-ing her tongue and shaking her head with disappointment. “Maybe I can help guide you there? This old hag may not look it, but I do know my way around the castle like the back of my hand.” 

Perhaps, it would have been best if you were wary of an unknown stranger suddenly offering help during dire times. Yet you are quickly reminded of your grandmother waiting back home and think nothing of the old woman who is offering her assistance so kindly. 

“Please, if you may. I don’t want to be late for my own wedding,” you answer her with a relieved sigh. 

“Excellent. Come along, then,” the cloaked woman turns and starts moving towards a different pathway with confident strides. You begin to believe that you are making a good decision then. 

“You look nervous, dear. Is everything okay? I’m sure you're excited about the wedding, aren’t you?” she asks after you walk with her for a moment longer, surprising you that she notices.

Because you are nervous. Only that it has been suppressed under your worries while you were getting lost in the maze earlier. 

“I actually am, if I must admit. Both nervous and excited,” you answer as the flutter in your chest grows wild all of a sudden. “To think that in a matter of minutes, the Prince Charming and I are going to—” your voice falters with nerves, “That we’re going to have our—” Thinking about what is going to happen causes your heartbeat to race, making it hard for you to breathe, to speak, that when you speak next, it almost feels like you are listening to yourself from a far distance away, “We are going to have our true love’s kiss.” 

It feels too surreal to think that it is finally happening. Your dreams are coming true. Even saying it out loud doesn’t seem to make it real. Stunned at how your life is changing so rapidly, you come to a halt. 

“I am most happy for you, my dear. But surely you can’t go into your wedding without going through the old tradition of the castle,” the old woman speaks again with joy—as if she is truly happy for you.

“The old tradition?” you ask, confused. Because you are quite sure that you know everything that you need to know about any kind of wedding tradition within the kingdom, and you are not sure if you are missing anything. 

“Why—to visit the magic fountain, of course,” the woman explains nonchalantly. “All brides would go to the magic fountain and make their final wish, hoping for their happily ever after before they are to wed. The fountain has magic spells, you see, to make sure that your wish is to be granted and for everything to go well until the end.” 

“My—wish?” 

“Yes. Your wish,” she says. The smile that the old woman shows you as she turns to face you brings a shudder to your skin. It is an indescribable feeling. Yet you brush it off, telling yourself that maybe your nerves are acting up again. “Do you have a wish, sweetheart?” 

“I wish,” you find yourself answering, “that we’ll live happily ever after.”

Because that is the only wish that would make sense, after all. Who wouldn’t want to find their happy ever after? While you are so close to having it, deep down, this is what you have been wishing for since you were a little girl and you want nothing to come your way from getting it.

“Then you should pray for your wish to make sure you’ll have it fulfilled, don’t you agree?” the old woman asks you in the most tempting way that you cannot find it in you to say no to. When she sees that you don’t seem convinced enough to follow her, she immediately adds, “It’s not too far from here, and it’ll take only a few seconds, so you won’t be late for your wedding. I promise.”

“You’re right,” you say to her, suddenly feeling hopeful again. “Besides, it would be wrong for me to skip a tradition on my special day.” 

“Good girl,” she says. For a brief moment, you believe that her voice oddly changes. Yet you pay no attention to it as she already begins moving—suspiciously quickly, for an old woman wearing a long, heavy cloak—through the maze again, giving you no other choice but to follow her close behind. 

It doesn’t take long before you emerge into another opening. This time, it seems like you have reached the far end of the garden, and right before your eyes stands the fountain that the kind old woman mentioned earlier. 

“Here it is, the magic wishing fountain,” she says as she steps aside, allowing you to have a good look at the fountain.  

And what you see right in front of your eyes leaves you completely lost for words.

“It’s—beautiful,” you muse softly, admiring the beautiful fountain that you have never once seen before. 

The magic fountain is placed deliberately at what seems to be the heart of the royal garden, right where the sunlight is filtered through a canopy of emerald leaves, giving it a mellow, yet romantic atmosphere. 

Surrounded by cobblestone pathways and vibrant flower beds, the water fountain stands elegantly between the wall of green around you. It is not made in a grand, ostentatious structure, but a modest creation which seems like it was naturally formed between the green hedges and lush trees, almost blending into the solid castle wall that spreads wide through the royal garden. 

The base, crafted from gleaming white marble, frames a pool of crystal-clear water which ripples gently from the center. The intricate design of the marble stone makes it seem like a bed of white flowers emerging from the ground, delicate and sturdy at the same time, instead of a stiff rock which made up the small fountain your grandmother built back home. 

The marble stone frame at the base goes all the way to the back, blending into the contrasting dark wall made of natural stones. You can vines of wild ivy growing from the top of the wall, extending down to the back of the circular pool filled with fresh water. 

The dark wall rises to the very top, where crystal-clear water cascades down from a seemingly mysterious source. To your eyes, it looks like a small replica of the natural waterfall from the heart of the Amaranth Forest, your secret sanctuary that not even your grandmother has ever been to before. 

The fountain's waterfall sparkles in a silver glow that looks ethereal to your eyes, casting a soft, shimmering light as it spills down to the pool of water underneath. The pool water also exudes a silvery luminescence that is almost blinding, yet you find yourself unable to look away. 

There is something about the fountain that keeps drawing you in. A tightness forms in your chest while you are drawn to the mesmerising sight of the water fountain that looks more like it was crafted by nature instead of manmade. It seems to be reminding you of the forest, helping you forget where you are for a brief moment and taking away all of your worries at the same time. 

The soothing sound of the trickling water feels entrancing, calming every nerve-ending, every tension in your body which has grown since you left home. 

Standing this close to it, you can almost feel it, the magic that comes from the spilling water, beckoning you to reach out for it. 

Too immersed in the water fountain and its spellbinding magic, everything around you seems to fade away. Every other sound becomes nothing but white noise, and the presence of the stranger beside you becomes nothing more but a shadow looming close by. You barely notice when she slowly begins to move away. Her voice starts fading in and out through your senses, alluring you in an oddly enchanting way.

Just like a spell would. 

At times like this, Poppy wishes that she has wings instead of these flimsy paws.

She also regrets not having her winged friends—the twin sparrows, the doves, and the little hummingbirds—with them this afternoon so she could ask them for help. But they hadn’t been pleased to make the long trip to the castle, and someone had to stay behind to watch over your sick grandmother and help her around the cabin. 

Yet she pushes aside those thoughts for now, focusing on climbing up the wild vines to reach the top of the outer walls of the castle instead. She is hoping that being high enough from the ground will help her find out where you are, to see if you are safe or if Sir Noah is putting you in harm’s way. Maybe she can also find Prince Jungkook and let him know what had happened.

Poppy has no idea what is going on and why things are turning this way. She can only hope that Prince Jungkook has nothing to do with this. However, she does have a suspicion about a certain someone who might have planned this whole thing up to ruin your and Prince Jungkook’s wedding. 

The only thing that she can’t understand is — Why? Why would anyone do this?

Poppy is out of breath when she is finally at the top of the wall. Now that she is high enough, she can see the outer area where she and her friends had been discarded to — the small lake that is surrounded by trees in various odd shapes, unkempt bushes and grass, with growing wildflowers that are scattered in all visible corners that she can see from up high.

On the other side of the walls, the garden looks like a massive maze, but way more well-maintained and luxurious — except for the small area beyond the locked iron gate that seems to be neglected compared to other parts of the garden. 

Yet Poppy doesn’t waste any more time idling by. She isn’t here to watch the scenery and marvel at it, after all. Once she manages to catch her breath and calm down, she takes one last glance and her other friends who are waiting for her on the ground and launches into a sprint, tracing the top of the wall with a steady run to find a better spot that will allow her to have a better sight of the inner garden. 

It takes a while, but eventually, Poppy can see a glimpse of your wedding dress flashing between the tall hedges. Relieved, she starts cheering to herself. She has been separated from you for long enough that anything could have happened. She keeps going, finding the right spot with the perfect angle where she can draw your attention. 

“_________! Look over here!” she keeps shouting while waving her paws in the air. “Please, Blossom!” 

When she fails to get your attention, Poppy jumps onto the nearest tree, hoping to get higher. The new angle allows her to see what she failed to see earlier. 

“Who is that?” she wonders out loud once she notices that you are not alone. But it isn’t a maid or a guard who is with you, as promised by Sir Noah when he sent you away. 

Instead, all Poppy can see from here is an old woman wearing a cloak that may have seen better days. From this spot, she can also see the hag smiling wickedly while you have your attention on a fountain that looks to be a part of the garden, and you definitely cannot see what the hag is up to when she secretly moves to stand behind you. 

“No! ________!” 

The wall of falling water on the fountain looks so mesmerising that you cannot look away. It seems alluring, enticing you to come closer. 

But you are frozen on the spot. And for a moment, you almost forget why you are here. The thought of your wedding no longer takes the front seat in your mind when you keep feeling like you are being pulled to the fountain. 

“Now, go on then. Make your wish,” you hear the woman coaxing you. Once again, her voice seems to change, no longer sounding like the weak and soft voice that you first heard from her. But then again, it could have been your imagination, because her voice softens again when she speaks, 

“Didn’t you say that you have a wish, my fair maiden? This is your chance to make your wish come true.” 

“Yes,” you hear yourself speak as if you are no longer inside your body. “Yes, I do have a wish.” 

Closing your eyes, you look deeper into your heart and mind, knowing what exactly you want to wish for before taking the next step. Clasping your hands together, you begin to make your wish.

“I wish—that we, Prince Jungkook and I, will live happily ever a—oh!”

All of a sudden, you feel a strong push. You barely open your eyes in shock when you see your entire world being tilted over, and you are suddenly plunged deep into the water. The faux waterfall continues to flow, covering your entire body as you continue to submerge into the bottomless body of water and the world around you fades. 

Up on the surface, the cloaked hag bends over the fountain and releases a wicked laugh. She waves her arms around her and starts chanting a spell on the fountain, and a thick, dark green mist emerges from the ground, surrounding her like a cloud. The moment the mist fades away, the cloaked hag has disappeared, and in her place stands the mighty Sorceress, Queen Rosalyne. 

Her laughter dies down, just as Sir Noah comes out of his hiding. Wringing his hands together, he looks between the fountain that is calming down—the ripples fading as if it hadn’t been disturbed by your entire being—and the smiling Queen who is silently celebrating. 

“If I may ask,” Sir Noah speaks gently, afraid of how the Queen will react to his curiosity, “Where have you sent her, Your Majesty?” 

A soft chuckle slips out of the Queen’s lips as her smile widens once more. “She is now off to the alter-world. To a place far, far away from here. A place where there are no happily ever afters.” 

⟶ Author’s Note | Originally commissioned by @pinkbtsarmy | Thank you for reading!

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hello I like your work, can I request the Reader and George at they wedding day at the end of the day they will make a hard sex please

Your work is amazing ❤

Hi love! Thank you so much, it has been a pleasure to write this! I hope you don’t mind but I changed it up just a little as I’ve recently written two other George wedding day fics but I tried to keep to your request as much as possible. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: SMUT. Graphic sex, PinV sex, slight oral. Lots of wedding mentions, George has a bride kink? Quickies.

Word count: 2.2k

Rain Clouds

According to superstition, rain on your wedding day was actually good luck, a clear sign of a long lasting marriage- after all, a wet knot was much harder to unravel.

It created a beautiful backdrop to your wedding, a soothing ambience that seemed just as cozy and comforting as the man you were marrying and at no point did it put a dampener on the day. After all the more important aspects of the wedding, the vows and the cake, the first dance and all the traditions you had been expected to follow, you'd been led by the hand at the end of the night by your new husband to dance wildly in the rain. There were many moments of your life that were happy, most if not all of them involving George, but you were certain that this one would take the cake. Ecstatic didn't even cover your elation in that moment, dancing freely with your new husband, the heat radiating from his body keeping you warm as the rain fell upon you. You were soaked to the skin, your wedding dress getting heavier by the second but you didn't care, too consumed by the moment that you knew you'd remember forever. George's laughter was contagious, the pair of you spinning and laughing, not a care in the world except for the other person beneath your fingers. Your hair was ruined and no doubt your makeup was beginning to smear down your face but like everything else it was inconsequential.

"I love you Mrs Weasley," George beams, pulling you close and wrapping his large hands around your waist, pulling your body tightly into his, fitting perfectly as it always did.

"I love you more Mr Weasley," you beamed up at him, finding humour in his dripping red locks that had fallen flat on his forehead.

"I can't believe you're my wife," he says, reaching for your hand to begin slow dancing as the rain tapered off. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

You pull him into a fiery kiss, knowing that you'd never be able reciprocate in words nor verbalise how you truly felt about him, especially in that moment. The kiss is loaded, full of fiery passion that had been threatening to overflow since the second you laid eyes on him walking down the aisle. Thought his suit was not officially drenched, it still looked just as good as it did hours ago when you'd stood by his side, hand in hand, and declared your love for each other. The kiss is hot and loaded, both of you so wound up from the day that you’re not sure how you’re going to make it through the rest of the night without having him. George apparently has very similar feelings and not a minute later his hands tighten on your waist as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Follow me,” he says suddenly, his voice barely more than a whispered growl. You don’t question him, following him blindly as he leads you away from the party by the hand to sneak into the venue around the back. He pauses just a moment as his eyes search for something, pulling you quickly beside him as he spots something up ahead. Suddenly, you are thrust into a large storeroom that leads on from the annex of the venue, with George closing the door behind you.

His lips are on you in seconds, as soon as he casts a few spells in quick succession, the door locking behind you and a silencing charm for good measure.

His hands wrap around you, fingers wandering and one hand wrapped around your jaw as he pressed your body against the door.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he pants against your lips. “I need you.”

“Please George,” you whimper, unable to bear the fiery desire any longer without any resolution. Your words are all he needs and he’s suddenly scrambling for the bottom of your dress. You were eternally thankful in that moment that you’d not chosen a bigger, puffier dress as you watched George slide the silken dress up your legs until it was hunched well above your thighs.

His breath catches when he spots your underwear, the flimsy little white lace panties not containing an ounce of the wetness for him. He presses a kiss to your partially concealed pussy and you gasp at the sensation, praying that he wouldn’t tease you now. His hands come up to grab the lace panties and he forcefully rips them off your body, not thinking of consequences or anything that would follow, too focused on the desire.

He stands quickly, pulling you into a scorching kiss once more as your hands attack his belt, trying to free the obvious bulge in his trousers, hands blindly scrambling but after years of practice it’s like second nature to you.

His hard cock is freed in mere seconds and you delight in the loud groan that falls from his lips when you begin stroking him, feeling the heavy weight of his swollen member in your hand. He’s over the teasing in moments and reaches up with his large hands to grab you, hoisting you up slightly until your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a whine of desperation as you feel your aching core meet George’s thick length, knowing how close you were to absolution.

He shuffles, securing your weight in his arms as he reaches down to grab hold of his cock, pausing only briefly to press another steaming kiss to your lips as he slowly pushes into your heat. You erupt together in sinful moans as you feel him push deeper and deeper into you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust to his impressive thickness before he finds a bruising rhythm. It’s primitive and sinful, the movement of him hips and the sounds that fall from your lips as he finds the spot that makes you see stars. Your thoughts drift to the tears seeing him on the quidditch pitch, thinking of how he would have been an incredible chaser with how precise his aim is, each thrust hitting that delicious spot with so much perfect precision that your clawing at his shoulders through the jacket in blistering pleasure.

In the back of your mind you’re aware that the door you’re leaning against is banging with every powerful thrust of his hips but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too consumed by George and his perfect cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, holding you tighter as his thrusts build to a quicker and harder pace, your cunt clenching around him uncontrollably.

“My perfect wife,” he moans out, capturing your lips in another kiss that has you keening on him, your hips rocking on their own, trying to keep him deep where you need him.

“Georgie!” You cry out, hands running through his hair as you feel your climax building. You can almost feel your wetness seeping out from around George’s cock, feeling more aroused than you ever had been before.

“Cum for me my perfect little wife,” he commands. You dutifully comply, your body submitting to him completely as a blistering orgasm consumes you. You scramble to reach out for him in any way you can, fingers clawing at his hair and the collar of his jacket, feeling as if you could drift away at any point. You cry out, chanting his name over and over again as he continues to pound into you, following you into bliss only seconds later.

You look at each other as you both come down from your highs, breathless, panting and equally as flushes. You both let out secretive chuckles at the sudden escalation of the situation, hardly believing that you’d both just done that. He lets you down slowly but not before kissing you again, this time less passionately and more lovingly.

“Shit,” you say, finally realising the extent of George’s hurried attempts to rid you of your panties, finding them completely ripped on the floor beside you.

“Hmm?” George asks, not realising what you were looking at until his spots his little error on the floor. “Sorry Mrs Weasley, I can fix that.”

He begins to pull out his wand but you stop him, a sudden deviousness taking over you.

“Leave them,” you smirk, watching as George’s eyes widen a little, the dominance in his stature having disappeared. “I want to spend the rest of our wedding with my husband’s cum dripping out of me.”

He growls, pulling you in to his chest at the wickedness of your words, his naughty little wife.

“And for you to be reminded that for the rest of the night, I won’t be wearing any panties.”

It takes a little encouragement to drag George back to the wedding party, your words already tempting him to round two but you manage to convince him eventually with a bit of bribery. You fixed your hair and attempted to fix your now very creased dress but it was futile; you only hoped that no one saw you sneaking away.

Whether by good fortune or incredible coincidence, only half an hour later after slipping back in unnoticed did you heard Fred bellowing out to you both, declaring that guests were beginning to leave. After the many goodbyes and well wishes, you found yourselves almost completely alone, ready to quietly slip away to the little cottage on the grounds that you'd rented for the night, the desire building once again at an alarming rate.

The rain had begun once again to fall quickly from the sky, the droplets now only visible through the shine of the overhead lights and the magically twinkling lights Fred had enchanted as the sun began setting.

"Want me to get the car?" George asks, sneaking in behind you and bending down, resting his chin on the top of your head. You look up at the falling rain and decide no, you wanted the freedom you'd tasted earlier, wanted to extend the happiness of the rain fall.

"I say we make a run for it," you say with a smirk, knowing that any chance for mischief would always attract George's attention.

"Want me to carry you mrs Weasley?" Your eyes close hearing his smooth voice utter your new title, the belonging and possessiveness of his words making a fire ignite within you.

"Only if I fall on my arse," you laugh, considering the shoes you were still wearing. You can both hear and feel him chuckle at your words, his body pressed to tightly against your backside that you can feel his every movement.

You both burst through the little wooden cottage door in a fit of exuberant laughter, both of you soaked to the skin but largely uncaring. George is on you within moments, pushing you against the nearest wall as his lips attack yours in a blistering kiss. It takes your breath away as he looms over you, dominating you completely, his right hand grabbing your waist and his left tangling within your hair, long fingers pressed against your jaw. It's filthy and raw with emotion, your knees weakening at the sheer force of his passion.

"Mrs Weasley," he coos, growling into your ear as he pulls your body flush with his. "I should probably get you out of this wet dress, don't want you catching a cold so we?" You can hear the smirk on his face through his voice. "Seems a shame though, you look so beautiful in it."

"Wait til you see what's left of your gift underneath," you tease, watching as his eyes widen slightly at the thought. Clearly he had temporarily forgotten about your lack of panties from earlier.

You squeal involuntarily as he sudden lurches for you, grabbing you under the bum and lifting you until you were draped over his shoulder in the most inelegant way, leading you straight to the bedroom.

"George!"

He slaps your bum with a quick thwack as you attempt to pry yourself away but quickly give in, knowing he's too strong to overpower. His dark chuckle echoes throughout the empty cottage as you wiggle and squirm in his arms; as pointless as it was.

As soon as you enter the bedroom, he slides you down his body and holds you to his chest, kissing you fiercely, all hint of his playfulness gone. He walks you over to the bed, lips not leaving yours for a second as he guides you backwards until you both collapse onto the bed, George's strong arms catching himself to stop him tumbling onto you. His lips are fierce and unrelenting against yours and he somehow manages to pull himself up enough to remove his suit jacket in the midst of kissing.

“I want to make another vow to you my Angel,” he mumbles between kisses. You pause, not knowing how to reply as you open your eyes to look at him, seeing a dangerous smirk forming on his face.

“I vow to fuck you in every room of this cottage by the end of our stay.”

Your core clenches around nothing from his voice alone, the deep growl and the hard look in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know on how the night would go.

“But George, we’re only staying here two nights,” you counter with a smirk of your own, thinking he’d forgotten that little detail. He doesn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead he fixes you with a hard look, his smirk increasing and you realise quickly that he knew, that his vow was to fuck you in every room of the cottage during the two nights you had here, starting now.

[lilgoblinbitch]

r.g. crm head canons

18+. first time writing headcanons, and first edit i ever made below (please do not steal or copy) ☻

MDNI

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

imagine sergeant major rick grimes training you, how he places his hands on your waist which would inevitably send shivers down your spine. he lightly grasps your arms as he positions your body in the right stance. every time he did this, your knees wobbled.

"good work, soldier." you'd blush from hearing him praise you after getting his instructions right. eventually the longer you trained the more skilled you became, and rick didn't have a reason to guide you anymore. you ended up missing his hands on you, and the proximity of his body behind you. but you know that physical touch from rick wasn't gone forever, because at least three times a week he'd come over to your apartment and touch you in much more intimate ways than he did during training...

you are always wet for this man. it's like he has some sort of spell casted upon you. and he was invariably aware of his effect on you. sly bastard.

but you also had a strong effect on him; the way you wrapped around him when he pounded into you, the melody of your sweet moans like a siren song pulling him in, how you always invited him into your apartment just from that look in your eye — he truly couldn't get enough of you.

when you're a good girl for the sergeant, he would gift you with his tongue dancing around your sweet hole and his finger flicking your throbbing clit. he would plunge two fingers into your hole and hit that same spot every time. "so good for me, sweetheart," he'd coo after you came on his lips.

if you 'misbehaved,' as in snap at him or misread his orders, your nights of loving turned into nights of rough fucking. "you need to learn how to follow orders;" or, "you can't be behaving like that, in front of everyone. fuckin' slut, bending over like this-" to which he'd fold you over the table with his stiff crotch pressing against your ass. regardless of the incident, rick just had to reiterate how serious he was about his authority over you.

i cannot stress this enough — rick is an ass man. he's always finding a chance to sneak a gander at your ass. whether you're purposely bending over in front of him at training or when he's fucking you from the back, his eyes are glued to the way your ass ripples with each thrust of his hips against it. and he absolutely loves giving it small smacks any chance he gets.

sometimes during missionary he likes to hold both your wrists above your head. he loves watching you squirm beneath him, fiending to anchor onto him while he fervently plunges into you.

nothing but sex fills the room, always; skin on skin and breathless whimpers from you, and rick would repeatedly mutter pure filth to you; "this pussy is mine," or "go 'head, sweetheart, let everyone know how good i make you feel." it always brought you closer and closer to climax.

rick loves grabbing your neck, too. something about the way you melt into him just from the feeling of his hand lightly squeezing your neck — made your head mushy in the best way. it was like his way of making you submit to him immediately.

whenever you are close to climax you mewl: "rick, 'm close," or when you can barely let words out from how overwhelmed your body is feeling from pleasure, your moans switch to more urgent whimpers.

rick will let you cum first if he's rewarding you for hard work that day: "that's it, baby. let it all go, sweetheart." otherwise if it's one of those rough nights he tells you: "hold it f'me, i know you can."

when rick is in a shitty mood, or if he's overly stressed that day, you are at his service. you can tell by how he paces the room or always places his fingers on the bridge of his nose that it may be time for you to bring him back to life by sucking his cock. his groans when you bob your head back and forth and how you confidently tease his tip which elicit strings of "fuck" and "my good whore".

[reddeaddamnation]

Your future life with the Hogwarts Legacy folks:

Sebastian Sallow

Hogsmeade was magical during Yule. Lights and decorated trees, pretty ornaments hung around the houses and the carols sung all around the village. The snow covered streets brought out a cozy feeling that just made you want to hide in the Three Broomsticks with a warm cup of cocoa or a mug of butterbeer next to the fireplace. Thankfully, you didn't have to think about work these days and you could enjoy a holiday with your husband.

Sirona's smiling face greeted you at the entrance. She hadn't aged at all since you were students. "Well if it isn't mr. and mrs. Sallow." She teased. Contrary to what everyone believed, Sebastian had chose to folllw in his family's footsteps and became an auror, who turned his back on the dark arts and instead opted to fight them. Ominis joked that even though you endorsed him all those years, you became the good influence and prompted a change in him after your wedding.

You, yourself had become a professor in Defense against the dark arts at Hogwarts after professor Hecate's retirement. "Oh, stop the formalities, Sirona, its Y/N and Sebastian." You laughed. "I will always remember the times when you were always getting into trouble." Sirona joked "Look at you now. All grown up. What can I get you?" You made your orders and sat at the table next to the fireplace, enjoying its warmth.

"I don't know when was the last time I told you this but I'll remind you. You're the best thing that happened to me. If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I would be right now." Sebastian looked at you with adoring eyes, a smile on his lips. "Azkaban?" You joked. After sharing a small laugh, he continued. "But...really. You made me a better person, professor Sallow." He smirked. "I'm glad to hear it, chief auror Sallow."

Ominis Gaunt

The ministry was dull and boring as ever. Everyone was so busy and...corporate... You sat at your desk, twiddling around a feather in your hand, wondering what to do, since your work was finished half an hour ago. Wondering if your husband was as workless as you were, you decided to go and check for yourself.

The corridor seemed endless. After finally seeing the door with his name on it, you knocked softly, waiting for an answer. "Minister Gaunt, you have a visitor." You teased him, upon entering. He shot you a welcoming smile, before going back to the papers in front of him. You took a moment to admire him. You always knew he would make it big, despite his disability. He was smart and adaptive. Nothing could stop him from achieving his dreams and you were so proud of him.

You couldn't help but walk over to him and hug him from behind his chair, nuzzling into his neck. "Darling, I have work to do." Ominis kissed your cheek sweetly "I promise, I will not let you go but when we go home." Feeling you pout, he sighed and contemplated for a moment. "My love..." he tried to speak, but you only hugged him stronger. "Just five minutes, Omi, I promise. I'm bored out of my mind." Snaking your body to the front of the chair, you sat on his lap, making him blush. "Ah... Y/N, you do whatever you want with me." Chuckling under his breath, he kissed you passionately, meanwhile casting a spell to lock the door.

Garreth Weasley

An explosion erupted from within your husband's potions shop, making you sigh. No surprise, with all the experiments he was doing and new concoctions he attempted to brew. You walked inside just in time to see Garreth, covered in soot and liquid, frantically trying to clean up the mess he had made.

"Too high temperature?" You asked, smirking. He looked you and scoffed at your amused face. This wasn't the first time you saw him covered in the mess he created. It was even too many to count. So many it didn't make you burst out laughing anymore. Despite that, he had made himself the name of the best potioneer in England with a successful potions shop and even published a book with his own recipes for potions. So to create said new potions, he had to go through trial and error multiple times a day.

"Too many troll boggeys." He answered, eyeing you up and down to find something to get back at you with "And you? A niffler caught your foot?" He pointed at the noticable missing piece of fabric of pants on your lower leg. You on the other hand, pursued your dreams of taking care of beasts to keep the wild populations stable. "Ah, kneezles get too playful sometimes. I think she believed my leg was a toy tree she could climb on." You waved your hand, dismissing concerns "What were you brewing this time?" Garreth sighed, motioning to the mess around his potion station.

"I attempted to create a potion, which could help the user breathe underwater." He explained "Not turn the user into a newt!" Ignoring your laugh, Garreth waved his wand, putting everything was back into place, clean and tidy "So after failed attempt number one, this is the result of attempt number two." He never failed to put a smile on your face though. "Don't worry, love, I'm sure you will get it next time." You reassured, moving closer to him for a hug, but stopped, remembering his... state right now.

Garreth rubbed the back of his neck. "Ahh...let's leave that for later, alright?" He chuckled.

Amit Thakkar

"I found it!" Amit exclaimed, excitedly shifting in his place, barely able to stop himself from jumping. His voice was quivering from the excitement of his discovery. He had been searching every night for some legendary constellation, appearing only once every few hundred years, or that was what the ancient scriptures that lead him on his search said. After realizing the time of appearance was soon, he spent night after night for a whole week staring up at the sky with his telescope with you to keep him company.

"Look!" He gave you the telescope to see for youself and lo and behold, he was right. A constellation you had never seen before right in front of your eyes. The stars glimmered together in the formation of a figure of a sphinx with two heads - a man's and a snake behind it. It sent shivers down your spine.

"Thank you for supporting me in this, my love." He hugged you so tightly and lovingly "Everyone else thought I was crazy!" You giggled "I knew you could do it. You're the best astrologer of our time." You pecked his lips with a smile, making him blush "Ah, you don't have to inflate my ego." He chuckled shyly and averted his gaze. "That's why I married you, Y/N. You believe in me."

[innocent-cat]

Hello darling! Is it okay to request a Vax x F!Reader x Percy (love triangle) one-shot? Where the reader is a human sorcereress from a noble family and somehow ends up with Vox Machina, only for Percy and Vax to develop feelings for her (or them, if you are more comfortable) a year later and become rivals and try to impress her.

I hope this isn't too weird! And it's fine if you don't want to do it! Have a wonderful day/night! Stay safe! 🤗💖

OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSS i actually love this idea so much

Sorceress and noble????? OF COURSE SHE HAS TIESSS WITH THE DE ROLOSSS AND THATS WHY SHE JOINSNSMNNSNS

It's awesome you clarified gender! i only do non-b pronouns when someone doesn't specify the gender. Otherwise I am happy to write for male or female!

sorry im getting excited

Vax'ildan x Reader x Percival

Warnings - idk probably gonna lean towards my bbg percy, not so obvious love triangle, swearing, im literally gonna be using f/n and shit, I'm literally rewatching to remember how to write them as I write this so good luck reading my poor memory of characters, I will use she/her, FUCK I HAD TO USE [name] IM SO SORRY, timeskip because oh my god this is so long,

"Vox Machina's (least) favorite Sorcerer.", Vax x Reader x Percy

.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻

[F/N] - Family Name

Lady Mystra - Goddess of magic/The weave

[Name] - I was too embarrassed to use y/n

Envonium - The name of the city you are a noble to (Sorry, couldn’t avoid it)

Twinned spell - A sorcery thing that allows a sorcerer to make one spell turn into two to attack two targets, never the same one twice in a row.

You come from a very rich cultured, religious, well mannered, prestigious and otherwise very dependent on magic kingdom. It only makes sense for such a huge part of the culture surrounding the beautiful city known as "The city of the weave", purely for its well known prestigious academies of magic, to have a generally magical culture. Many everyday tasks require magic, or it is commonly frowned upon to do some actions without it.

As a noble sorcerer yourself, your parents couldn't help themselves but give you the education you needed to become stronger as a magic wielder. They began your education at a young age, which proved a struggle for you to connect with companions and school partners who surrounded you. You were always disconnected from the reality of the lives of non-nobles. Other students seemed to feel the same way, and instead of adapting for you or explaining culture to you, they excluded you, making you an outcast in your own kingdom.

Lucky for you, your parents had many allies and peace treaties with those they were more powerful than or equal to, which happened to include the de Rolos. Once they learned of their children, one of which happened to be your age, Percy, they urged them to allow you, their only daughter, to meet Percival and his siblings.

Sadly, your exclusion in school made you awkward around him, and the two of you had trouble holding conversation for a very long time during your visit to Whitestone. It wasn't until your parents mentioned to Lady and Lord de Rolo the education they put you through so you could become a stronger sorcerer, that Percy warmed up to you and began to ramble about sorcery and wizardry, of which you knew much of both.

His curious personality led to conversations that lasted hours only asking the weave, which was tiring. When you began asking him questions back, he could not help himself but go on rants about science, history, and anything he remembered learning, which was a lot. The two of you had a rivaled education.

"That's... not really how the weave works. Where did you even hear that? That's absurd." You'd quip back at his stupid questions(At least, to you, they were stupid.), that you assumed were common knowledge.

"Well- in this book- it speaks of manipulating and changing the weave to cast spells." He was always defensive, quoting books directly and going as far as showing you the page.

With a sigh, "That book is decades old. You don't manipulate the weave, you pull it. Not even pull! It is a very delicate process." You knew it would be hard to explain, because you didn't quite understand it yourself yet.

Every summer, you would visit Whitestone until they suddenly stopped responding to letters, in which your parents cautiously chose to cut ties with the kingdom, without telling you. Whenever you'd ask about it, they'd hush you or change the topic. It confused you, but deep down, you knew they knew something about it.

Of course, this lets you down. You had begun to develop feelings for the boy who showed you kindness and bonded with you over something you were very prideful in. However, you eventually had to give up asking your parents questions about this, and continued your education in the weave.

Of course, your demanding parents practically begged you to practice your magic in real world experiences so you could be truly prepared. When you showed hesitation in doing such a thing, they only pushed harder- in fact, they packed your bags for you. They gave you a lot of gold for the road, a magic bag to hold everything needed, a change of clothes, food for a few days(Bread, cheese, water.), and a map. Not much, but they knew you were more than capable of making due.

Obviously, being a noble of the [F/N] family gave you a target on your back, but it wasn't much of a problem. It seems people underestimate you because you aren't armed with anything but a quarterstaff, but it takes no less than a chromatic orb or a fireball to kill them within seconds.

With background check over, you sit in a tavern.. :3

A group of loud, drunken, lowly mercenaries are shouting across the bar and asking for trouble with several strong looking city dwellers. You can tell they have no real experience in fighting other than bullying people for their money based on their muscles and lack of scars.

You try to ignore the banter, trying to get lost in a pint of beer as you sip on it, the woozy drunk feeling freeing you from an emotional state you get late into the night when left alone to think of your family, your people, and more importantly, all the books you had to leave behind to come here.

You're brought out of your thoughts as a table goes flying over your head, followed by a mug that hits your head, wetting you with the remaining alcoholic liquid left in the cup.

You quickly snap around, rubbing your now pounding head. You ready yourself to cast a spell strong enough to rival the sun against the dirty drunken party, but you realize it was one of the burly men who like to pretend to be tough who threw the table at you. You quickly change the direction of your twinned spell, making quick work of both of them as they fall stunned to the floor. The bar fight ensues as you knock the two of them out, an elf with dark and long hair defends you as another drunken man swings at you with a makeshift weapon. It seemed like it was a leg to a chair, but you couldn't tell in the blur of the quick paced fighting.

Once the quick turned fight ends, a female ranger announces to the barkeeper that 'Vox Machina' will pay back their tab in due time. You roll your eyes, and with a groan, you begrudgingly hand up a small bag of gold to cover their tab and look at the elven woman with an extremely annoyed face. She looks back, surprised you paid their tab, and even more so surprised you have the audacity to look at her with such a face.

A white haired, taller man looks at you with extreme shock. His face is familiar, but you know better than to stare, something he must have forgotten. Your face shifts into a less disgruntled face as the barkeeper speaks to you, thanking you for kindly paying the group's tab.

With the showy smile you were taught, you give him a soft and polite 'You're very welcome. Thank you for your hospitality.'

Your conversation with the barkeeper is cut short when the brunette, elven woman loudly asks you "And who the fuck are you?"

It sounded much more like actual curiosity than impoliteness, so you choose to not respond with the same tone, instead introducing yourself.

"[Name] [F/N]." (Guys im actually so sorry for having to do that, it feels taboo bc no one likes it) One side of you hoped they knew your family name for the sake of fear or authority, but the other hoped they didn't for the sake of having new beginnings.

Their gnome cleric seemed to be working your name out, familiarity reading on her face. You can tell it clicks when she looks up at you thinking of what to say, but she instead introduces herself and the rest of the party.

"Hi.. I'm Pike, this is Grog, the two similar looking elves are twins, Vex and Vax. The druid is Keyleth, and.. Scanlan is the guy pissing on the sign right now." As she speaks you can hear the encouraging smile on her face in her voice, her friendly introduction and personality persuading you to not judge or speak ill of Vox Machina.

You smile at all of them as she introduces them, except for Scanlan, your face rests in disgust watching the half nude gnome piss on a sign, then accidentally piss on a guard of the kingdom.

You turn expectantly to the one Pike seemingly forgot to introduce, the look of disgust still on your face. He seems startled you gave him the sour face, and you quickly fix it. You wave a beckoning motion at him to introduce himself.

"My name is Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III'' You finally realize who he is, and your face contorts to curiosity, but there's a small amount of disgust evident in it as well.

You have no clue what his family might have done to your’s for them to cut ties with his, but it couldn't have been good. Your mother always fought your father to keep as many allies as possible, and it was very rare for them to both agree on cutting ties.

Rolling your eyes at his long introduction, you cross your arms. The wisp of cold night wind swishes through your hair, as you feel it on your neck. You look up at him like scum under your foot, standing a distance of around 4 feet away from him.

"Do.. you guys know each other?" Pike asks you awkwardly, the rest of the party staring at the two of you awkwardly as well, noticing your repulsed face and Percy's face of surprise.

You scoff. "Know each other? No no.. we're only childhood best friends of neighboring kingdoms." Your voice seethes in sarcasm, your gaze not leaving Percy.

A new voice enters the awkward situation, the elven rogue, Vax, who protected you earlier.

"Yeah, you two really seem to be bonded to the core." His sarcasm matches your's, and you laugh softly, finally turning away from the silent Percy.

Walking towards him to converse, your face changes to a more smug than angry expression, your eyebrows still turned downward. The two of you banter for a moment before Scanlan awkwardly reveals a request for mercenaries.

"You guys wouldn't mind if I joined you, right? It's been a long while since I've been part of a party, and even longer since I’ve seen Percy." You ask Pike, who you assume is the leader of the party as she seems most responsible.

"It never hurts to have a few extra hands!" You can tell she's still dwelling on your interaction with Percy, as her tone is sensitive and her words practically dance around what just happened.

(Timeskip because theres literally a gap in writing in the show BECAUSE I DONT FUKCING KNOW WHAT TO DO HELP)

Waking up in the morning and climbing the stairs up to the ruler of Emon was a struggle, and you couldn't help but cast an ice spell to soothe the headache you currently had. Percy had tried to talk to you a few times, but you had shrugged him off at every opportunity. He opted to walk in the front of the group, conversing lightly with Vex and Keyleth.

It was nice talking to Vax so casually, as it wasn't an opportunity given to you often to speak informally. He gave you a few confused glances whenever you slipped up and started speaking formally, and you'd let out an awkward laugh and wave your hand in front of your face to try and get him to ignore it.

"So- what brings you to Emon?"

"My mother and father pushed me out of the kingg..domm.. I just want to practice my sorcery. I haven't really used it outside of learning it in practice." You trail off, when he gives you a weird look after mentioning your home.

"Oh. Really? That sounds.. wonderful. You seem a truly powerful sorcerer." He replies to you with an awkward smile on his face, trying to keep the conversation flowing with you as best as possible.

Once the party reaches the doors, Trinket, Vex's pet bear, stays on the outside of the doors with the guards. The party all make an awkward introduction, and you attempt to quip that you aren’t part of Vox Machina perse, but Scanlan quickly spoke over you in song, and went over you quite quickly, introducing you as “The sorcerer princess of the city of the weave!” And honestly? You had to admit it was better than anything you were expecting him to say about you, even if he had gotten some facts wrong.

A ‘punch in the gut’ feeling washed over you as you remember that you are a high status noble walking among a group of barfing, hungover mercenaries, and you look just as hungover as the rest of them. You quickly straighten yourself out and push around Vax with a soft ‘Sorry..’ and stand next to Percy, hoping to look better next to him, another noble. He seems surprised but ignores it, letting Scanlan bullshit you guys through the ‘meeting’ you had interrupted by walking in. Eventually, Emon’s ruler and a few advisers approve of your group saving the kingdom, in exchange for a very large box presumably full of gold coins.

You all quickly board the boat like aircraft, shuffling to stand near the railing, you find yourself standing next to Percy after not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on between Vex and Vax, opting to not seem rude or nosy. You of course, keep your space between you and him, and lean on the rail, debating on starting the conversation.

And you do.

“So.. what could the de Rolos have done to have angered the [F/N]s?” You ask, sarcastically, but genuinely curious.

Percy turns and looks at you with a face of bewilderment. “What did we do? What are you talking about?” Percy’s voice has anger lacing through it, and he wasn’t trying to hide it, but it’s not like he was trying to show it either.

“I mean, what did you guys do? Lord de Rolo stopped responding to my mother’s letters, and one day both mother and father refused to speak of Whitestone. It was like you guys did some horrible offense against lady Mystra, or, I don’t know, maybe betrayed one of our stronger alliances?” You dig deeper under his skin unknowingly, your face only showing confusion.

Percy’s stance changed, and he turned his body to face you. “My father stopped responding to your mother’s letters because he was murdered. They.. were all murdered. I ran from my kingdom, barely escaping my attackers, and I assumed you did your’s?”

Your mouth drops ever so slightly in shock, but you quickly close it. “I’m so sorry, Percy. I had no clue. I wish I could have convinced my parents to do something.. And no, I didn’t run from Evonium. My parents sent me away to become stronger.. I finally graduated from my academy.” Your eyes are glossy, as if hurt for Percy for what happened to his family. Your expression was soft, and pitiful. It almost completely contrasted the look you gave him at the bar, if it weren’t for that same pitiful look that knitted in your eyebrows as the wind blew against your face.

He turns away, unwilling to think about the look you had given him. He sighs. “It’s quite alright. I don’t blame you for assuming our families crossed one another. If I was in your position I would have done the same.”

You scoot closer to him, but leave room to breathe. You felt selfish for wanting to heal your relationship so fast, so you would let him choose when the wound was closed.

You felt eyes burning into the back of your head, but you tried ignoring it. Unaware it was Vax, you choose not to turn, and hope it was nothing. It seems he doesn’t want the wound to close at all, and he has a face that reads jealousy. He turns back to Vex, continuing their conversation and trying to shake off the feeling he had about you and Percy.

The ship shakes, and quickly levitates to the ground, a small wooden town ahead of you. The tents were torn, and burns were evident in the wood that kept the cloth up. It didn’t look like the work of a reckless wizard or sorcerer, and it seemed like it came haphazardly from above. You slowly walk down the aircraft beside Percy in silence. Scanlan makes some kind of sexual comment to the woman who brought us here, to which she ignores and promptly leaves without a word. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him.

You and Percy walk awkwardly behind everyone else, as Vax walks beside Keyleth, Pike next to Grog, and Vex next to Scanlan, which she was visibly upset about. However, she didn’t seem too upset as the two bantered sarcastically back and forth. The trail to the tents begins to go down hill, the path muddy and slippery. You try to hold onto Percy’s shoulder as you walk down, in which he drapes an arm around your waist in response to, trying to help support you, but it only brings you flashes of your childhood crush on him, and you fail to pay attention to the floor, despite having a staring contest with it.

You slip, falling backwards for only moments before Percy’s hand grips your hip, his arm already behind your back to support you, and pulls you back up. It was a pull with quick strength that was more of a reflex than an action, and it pulls you nearly face to face. You blush, and mutter a quick ‘Thanks, Percy.’, and he looks away with a quickly spoken, flustered, “Yeah! Yes. Of course.” as if he was trying to pull himself together. You pull away, but keep your hand on Percy’s shoulder until fully down the slope.

Vax turns around to look at the commotion, and he catches a glimpse of you blushing at Percy. He can’t help but scoff at it, and turns back around to talk to Keyleth, only really half talking to her, and her only really half talking to him.

[choerypetal]

The Curse / Sam and Dean Winchester

summary: Sam and Dean had always harbored feelings for you, but their age gap and fear of losing you kept them from expressing it. It wasn't until a lust curse was cast as payback that their true emotions came to light. (reader is in her mid-twenties and the boys 30)

P.S. I apologize for any grammar errors as English isn't my first language, and this is my first smut. I hope you enjoy it!

xo'

Residing in the Bunker had its own challenges, but sharing the space with two strikingly attractive men, while grappling with an uncontrollable curse, took it to a whole new level. The memory was vivid: against the stern advice of the Winchester brothers, you clandestinely hitched a ride in the Impala's trunk on that fateful hunt, only to find yourself prey to a witch's curse upon stepping out. In an instant, you were ensnared by the curse, your eyes ablaze with desire, cheeks flushed, consumed by a newfound craving you hadn't even known existed—starvation for touch.  

“Oh sweet mother,” Dean’s voice echoed as he saw you. Your eyes always seemed to search for something—or someone, to be precise. The headmistress's witch, with her all-too-familiar wicked laugh, had cast her final spell, a curse she ensured would take effect as soon as she died in Dean’s arms. The monster was indeed dead, but when Dean met Sam’s gaze, he knew the hunt was far from over. 

Your mind, however, was focused elsewhere. The symptoms hadn't appeared yet, but the Winchesters made it clear that back at the bunker, any spell books or the help of Rowena would be useful. “I just hope it’s not,” Dean said, a look on his face prompting Sam to bring him back to reality. Flirtations were not part of the ordeal, especially given how vulnerable you had become. “It’s not contagious, although I wouldn’t mind,” Dean said cockily. Sam rolled his eyes with a ‘really?’ kind of look. Dean shrugged, seemingly oblivious to Sam's attraction to you. But unlike his older brother, Sam had some boundaries, especially right now. 

“We need all the help we can get,” Sam said, trying his best to remain composed. Despite his reluctance, he knew his brother was right. The love curse, though unintended, might have been advantageous for the hunt. You had stubbornly insisted on joining them from the start, and now the little payback didn't seem so bad, did it? Sam thought to himself, watching your eyes glimmer with fascination at everything your eyes gazed upon. He couldn’t help but chuckle, finding it adorable as your soft voice finally caught the attention of both boys. “Um… Guys?” Dean was the first to focus on you, raising an eyebrow. That’s when they both realized: your pouty lips, signaling the symptoms were starting to show. Regardless, the brothers knew they would eventually have to escort you out. 

“Bunker, now.” 

The orders were clear, the drive however. Another story. 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder how you were feeling in that moment. A multitude of questions raced through his mind as he tried not to compare it to anything else. Amidst the tension, Sam ensured you remained still. Despite this, your hips pressed against another, and your hands yearned for touch. When you noticed the rope tied around your wrists, Sam gave you a pitying look. He felt bad, but it was the only solution they could think of. “We are close, love,” he reassured you.

Love. 

"Love? Really?" Dean mouthed to Sam, hoping you neither heard nor noticed. Sam shrugged, genuinely trying his best, though he couldn't deny feeling a bit turned on by the rope. If it weren't for the damn curse. “And you said, ‘no flirting,’” Dean said, almost offended. But his attention quickly shifted when you asked them a question.

“Is something wrong with me?” 

Your voice was soft and innocent as you spoke. “No, sweetheart, we just need to gather some information back at the bunker and get you cleaned up,” Dean replied. It was payback time. Sam’s glare was obvious, while Dean smirked, deliberately emphasizing the word "sweetheart." You of course, had simply nodded in respond. The mood shifted as soon as the Impala parked in front of the bunker.

The three of you entered the bunker, and little did you know, Dean had prayed during the drive for Rowena’s presence. She wore an expression that made both brothers uneasy, knowing they’d have to deal with your current state. “Why don’t you go to your room, Y/N?” Sam suggested with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Adult talk.” His gesture stirred feelings you hadn’t experienced in a while, making you gulp nervously. Trying to hide your flushed cheeks, you nodded and quickly left for your room. 

"So," Rowena's voice chimed in Dean's ear, a sound he was never fond of, especially when he suspected she had some scheme in mind. Whether her intentions were good or bad, the sound of her smirking lips was unsettling, even without her holding any cards. "Why the urgency, boys?" she asked, leaning against the bunker's table. Her eyes scanned the two men, observing as Sam nervously rubbed the back of his neck and Dean swallowed hard before he could speak. "It's Y/N." 

Rowena gave an 'oh?' kind of look, as if she wasn’t already aware of Dean’s confessional prayer a few hours earlier. She relished the moment, knowing full well that nothing could actually cure your curse. "I am afraid," she teased, her tone making it clear that any attempts—whether spells or exorcisms—would be futile. Dean’s brows furrowed in frustration. "And how do you think she’ll let us? Won’t it, you know, ruin the relationship between the three of us?" 

Sam glare at his brother. “Really?” he almost looked offended. As if his brother was pretending not to overlook, while being clear with the attraction the two Winchesters had toward you. And you being more the secretive type, it wasn’t clear if you were in the same page either. 

Little did the brothers know, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by your own sexual thoughts. The symptoms were beginning to show, and by the time you reached your bed, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to feel your fingers traveling over your body, down between your thighs. Fortunately, with the brothers a few rooms away, you managed to steal Sam’s laptop and sneak into your room. 

The urgency was palpable as you slid under your covers, removing your shorts and leaving yourself in just a shirt and underwear. You knew you had to be quiet. After typing your favorite porn video into the keyboard, quickly grabbing some headphones. As you watched the video intently, you couldn't help but imagine yourself as the girl and the two men as Dean and Sam. 

Sam and Dean knew that once Rowena was finished, they’d have to take action. This led Sam to wonder about the whereabouts of his laptop. "Did you stole my laptop again?" he asked irritably, prompting Dean to retort, "You know me better than that, Sammy. If I’d stolen your laptop, I would have left it there." This was true, given the number of times they had lived together and Sam had found his laptop the next morning with a few porn sites left open. 

"Perhaps I left it in my room," Sam said with a resigned sigh. Little did he know that his laptop was actually in your hands. Hearing faint moans from the opposite room, he couldn’t resist sneaking in. There, he found his laptop next to you, serving as a monitor. Your eyes were closed, your top and covers off, your breasts exposed. "Sam... Dean..." you murmured, making Sam's jaw clench. Dean had been right. 

Dean noticed it was taking longer than expected and, irritated, went to check on his brother. "Sam—" he began, but was immediately cut off. "Shhh... she's..." Sam's whisper was enough to make Dean furrow his brow. As he moved closer to his brother, his eyes darkened. The way you moaned their names was irresistible. The two men exchanged glances, unable to help but ponder the situation, both of them aware of the bulges now evident through their pants. 

As your eyes opened slightly, you felt your cheeks flush at the sight of their silhouettes lingering just beyond the bedroom's threshold. Meeting their gaze, your eyes then glanced down between their legs, silently pleading for something more. With your hand now free, you reached out, beckoning them to enter. "I want more…" The curse had taken its toll, the symptoms ready to manifest, and both brothers instantly agreed. 

Dean was the first to enter, swiftly taking Sam’s laptop and closing it as you knelt down, the palm of your hand gently caressing the obvious bulge in his pants. A smirk played on your lips as you gently unzipped his jeans, while Sam preferred to watch from the corner of your bed. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding before him, unable to resist grasping his own dick. Your gaze, filled with lust, shifted between them both, and as Dean's cock revealed itself under his boxers, you couldn’t help but look at it in awe. “Can, I?” 

"It's all yours, princess," Dean's voice was hoarse, his fingers gently caressing your cheek as he lifted your chin slightly to admire your face once more. "Enjoy it," he said, and you nodded with pleasure, leaning in to press a few kisses on the top of the rim. You heard him groan as his hips moved slightly, feeling your tongue around his cock, swirling as you managed to gulp it all the way down. Before releasing it, your fingers gently jerked it off, while your other hand massaged his balls.

Dean's head leaned back, the tension in the room palpably sexual. Before he could reach climax himself, his fingers cupped your face. Your pouty lips drew his attention, and he said, "Need to leave some for Sammy," now seated in the corner of your bed, allowing Sam to shift between the two with innocent eyes, which made you giggle at his reaction. "Come here," you said, now fully focused on Sam.

And there you were, the three of you entangled on the bed. Sam's hips thrusting inside you, the tip of his cock teasing your clit with each motion. His breath was heavy as your eyes locked, leaning in to kiss your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue wrap around yours before he bit your bottom lip. Your eyes rolled back as you realized how big Sam's cock was compared to Dean's. "That's it, baby girl. Gotta take it all before my brother finishes you up," he murmured, urging you on. 

Dean, on the other hand, made sure you were just as occupied and focused. His cock filled your mouth as you managed to stifle your moans from Sam's thrusts. "There, there," he groaned, moving his hips to mirror Sam's movements. Eventually, Sam withdrew from the soreness of your pussy, now so pink. He couldn't bear to leave without planting a few kisses on your clit before leaving Dean to finish you off.

"It's my turn," the older brother declared, giving Sam a playful push, eliciting a chuckle from him as he admired how sore you had become. First, Dean licked his bottom lip, then leaned between your legs, eagerly eating you out. You felt his tongue tracing circles around your clit, his eyes never leaving yours. "It's so small," he teased with a smirk, "just like our baby girl." Sam joined in, barely giving you time to exhale a moan before his dick was in your mouth. "When we say we're not finished, we mean it," he added firmly. 

Dean's cock felt different from Sam's, but despite the soreness in your pussy, the pressure was intensely present. It was thick, reaching deep inside you, almost to your stomach. Your back arched from the constant pleasure, and the brothers made sure your body would be covered with hickeys from head to toe. Sam withdrew from your mouth, leaving you to jerk him off as you said innocently, "I'm about to cum." This was enough for the brothers; Dean also withdrew, teasingly brushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your legs shake from the orgasm. Their cum landed on your stomach. What the three of you didn’t know was that as soon as you came, the symptoms began to fade away. The curse was gone.

"You okay?" Dean asked with concern, noticing you had returned to reality and chuckling softly at your current state, which made the two brothers more worried. Was the curse really gone? Sam looked at his brother, and Dean could only shrug, waiting for your response. "Yes..." you said softly. "And it took a curse to finally..." 

"Finally?" Sam's brow arched as he looked between his brother and you. Before he could say more, you chuckled again. "For us to finally express it." Despite the unusual circumstances, the two brothers couldn't help but smile, chuckling as they both leaned against your bed, scooping you in between them. "So you knew?" Dean asked, almost offended by the efforts he'd made to keep his feelings hidden, fearing it would ruin the friendship. "Told you," Sam said teasingly. "You owe me 50 bucks."

You glared at Sam and smacked his chest before he wrapped his arms around you, sneaking kisses into the crook of your neck. It was his obvious way of making you forget the ordeal. As you rolled your eyes, you said, "I guess curses at least have some benefits." The two brothers rolled their eyes. "Even if I don't like it, I prefer you this way," Dean confessed. Although you appreciated the sentiment, you couldn't help but tease in response.

“Say mister flirt,” 

Dean, almost offended, attacked you with kisses, making you laugh. "Ours," he said with a proud smirk. You returned his smile and kissed his cheek.

"All yours," you replied warmly.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]

Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.

I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.

Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^

A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.

We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.

We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.

Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.

Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).

Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.

You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s actually a child mentally! He's sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.

Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.

Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.

My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!

[bardicindignation]

Wild, Spaghetti on the Wall Theory Time

Braius Doomseed is NOT a paladin of Asmodeus.

Based on Subclass choices, vibes, and the Sam with the out of nowhere curveball character trend that we all know and love. Sticking the rest under a read more bc this got...long.

I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out! Sam always has a curve-ball in his back pocket with the characters he plays from Scanlan to FCG, we all know this. It's possible that the back pocket deal is gonna be a last-minute betrayal bc, yk, Asmodeus but! BUT!!! Braius can cast Moonbeam, and since, according to his character wiki he's at least a ninth level paladin, he doesn't yet have the 10th bard feature that allows him to pull spells from other classes even when you're not College of Lore (he's a Tragedy Bard). This means that he's either Oath of Watchers or Ancients, and while Watcher's could make sense for the fight against Predathos regardless of what god Braius follows...that's a lot of paladin levels to have been brought out just since the gods were aware of the situation (like, a couple weeks I think?) and neither super seems like an Asmodeus associated Oath. (As opposed to, say, Crown or Conquest, or Vengeance, or Oathbreakder.) Plus, Tevan had no fucking clue who he was, and it seems like one of Asmodeus's lieutenants might be appraised of a high level follower of his Lord being tasked with going directly after Asmodeus. But Joy! You might say. Oath of the Watchers is pretty Neutral, and he could have just ! What about the sign he god from the ichor on the wall? Why would the god of Lies tell any of his followers shit? And if not Asmodeus who the fuck is Braius following??? Ok, so, first off, let's break down the Oath. I really, really, think that it's gotta be Watchers if Braius is really a follower of Asmodeus bc Ancients is not only heavily nature aligned (not something that the Lord of the Hells is at all associated with) but the language of the description of the Oath also seems heavily aligned with good (I mean just look at the tenents) and...y'all. I don't think Braius is a Watchers Paladin. First off, Sam never once asked (to my memory) about who was within 10 ft of him at the start of initiative, when Watchers would have given all of those people a bump on their initiative. Now, this could be 'new character who dis' except. Except. Sam did consistently ask Matt if people who were within 10 feet of him who were being targeted with Delilah shit were getting hit with spell damage.

Here's the Aura of Warding from the dndwikidot page on Oath of the Ancients:

"Beginning at 7th level, ancient magic lies so heavily upon you that it forms an eldritch ward. You and friendly creatures within 10 feet of you have resistance to damage from spells." Oath. Of. The. Ancients. Bitch. (also we learned that the name Doomseed came with the oath. Naaaatuuuuure. Also also, doesn't say who the doom is for) So next up, the symbol message...what the fuck was up with that? Just bc it was an Asmodeus symbol doesn't mean he's the only bitch who can interact with it...and it was specifically not coming from the structure of the symbol itself, just the run-off. This is not a super strong point, but Asmodeus is not the only god of trickery...but more on that later. Tevan Klask doesn't know who the fuck Braius is! Look, the Lord of the Hells is a lying-ass bitch. We all know this. It's entirely possible that he keeps his people out of the loop on each other. But he's gotta know that Tevan has a line to the people going in after Ludinus the most and it feels a tad weird that Hot Devil Man would have no knowledge of a high level paladin of his Lord doing the same damn thing.

Also, Braius didn't react, like, at all to Tevan getting banished by Ludinus which feels...a little weird. So. So. If not Asmodeus, then who? What other Trickery, Nature, romance (the flirting is constant which isn't necessarily a firm indicator but c'mon) alligned deity is out there with not only what is possibly the strongest connection to whatever the fuck is going on with Predathos, but also has direct experience with followers of one 'deity' masquerading as another which could have been extremely effective without actual divine intervention? That's right, it's the motherfucking Moonweaver!! Just going by her title, it's entirely possible that this bitch was ultimately responsible for trapping Predathos in the first place, and we've heard suspiciously little of her in C3. Her cleric domains include both Trickery and Nature, and she's heavily associated with deception, misdirection, lover's trysts, and moonlight.

Yk, like with a Moonbeam. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

(My second, last minute theory is that Sam's still playing a follower of Avandra who also has Moon, Trickery, and Nature under her domains. This would be extremely funny to me. Wait fuck I'm still saying Moonweaver for my first choice but the wiki is telling me that The Changebringer is the Archenemy of the Lord of the Hells...fuck. Fuck Sam did you do this Sam let me in your brainnnnn.)

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Sweet Nothings

Pairing: Abraham (Grantchester) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, smut. Word count: ~1.4k

Summary: They had agreed to call it quits when Abraham's community moved on from Grantchester, however, the urge to keep in touch is too powerful for either of them to resist.

Author's note: Day five of the Smuffmas prompts - "letters and lingerie". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

Abraham had kissed her fiercely, his lips pressed tightly to hers as though he meant to steal the very breath from her lungs. He’d kissed her like it was the last time he ever would, because the reality of it was just that - he was moving on, this would be the last time their mouths would meet with such passion.

She had always known that this was coming; six weeks prior when they had begun their little tryst, they had agreed when his time in Grantchester came to an end, so too would their relationship.

That doesn’t stop the ache in her heart when that day finally arrives though, but she does her best to hold back her tears as she watches him walk away, not wanting to make this any more difficult than it already is. She swears when he looks back she sees a hint of regret cast back at her in the blueness of his gaze. Perhaps that is just her seeing what she wants to see though.

Two weeks pass, and she does her best to carry on as normal, despite the void that Abraham has left behind in her life.

That is until the day a letter passes through the letterbox, landing softly on the doormat. It’s addressed to her, though she doesn’t recognise the handwriting. Tearing it open, a warmth spreads through her chest, recognising the sender as she reads it.

Darling,

I know we said that this is it, but I can’t stop thinking about you. The pillow on my bed that you laid your pretty head upon still smells like you. I miss the warmth of you, the way your body fits against mine. I can still picture your smile, still hear your laugh, and I think I’m going crazy without you.

I’m sorry if hearing from me is upsetting for you, I just can’t stand the idea that some other bloke will make you smile, make you laugh, make you moan like I used to. I don’t expect you to write back, but I’d be over the moon if you did. We’re camped up at a place called Yaxley, just outside of Peterborough. If you do decide to write back, address it to the Yaxley post office, and I’ll pick it up. I’ll check every day to see if you’ve written.

Yours, always,

Abraham

The penmanship is a barely legible scrawl, and the letter is riddled with spelling errors, yet she can’t deny it makes her pulse race to know that he’s missing her, so she snatches up a pen and paper and writes back straight away.

Over the following weeks they write to each other frequently, talking about their days, professing their yearning for each other, and with every exchange their words grow more heated and passionate.

She gets an idea when one of his letters states that he is “missing the pretty little pink thing” she used to wear for him, knowing exactly the lingerie set he’s hinting at.

Slipping on the satin French knickers and matching brassiere, the material feels silky soft against her skin. Butterflies flutter in her belly remembering how the last time she’d worn this, Abraham had peeled it off her, his bright eyes following the path of it as it had fallen away from her body.

Setting up the polaroid camera, she takes several photos of herself in various provocative poses - ones she knows will make his blood run hot - jutting out her hip, pushing out her chest, arching her back, accentuating her curves and all of his favourite places to touch her.

Once she is satisfied that she has an adequately arousing selection, she settles down to write.

Abe,

Enclosed are pictures of that “pretty little pink thing” you love so much. I hope it satisfies your longing, though it does little to sate mine. I ache for the feel of your big, strong hands against my body, and I’m saddened that when this comes off once more it won’t be you that’s removing it.

Remember the last time I wore this? I do. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of you on top of me, the feel of your lips against my skin, the wonderful ache between my legs as you moved against me.

I’d give anything for just one more night with you. I fear you have ruined me for all other men.

Yours forever.

The envelope she drops into the postbox the next day is thicker and heavier than usual, and she grins excitedly, imagining the smile on Abraham’s face when he eventually opens it.

For the next week, her gaze is fixed on the letterbox each morning, waiting for his reply to drop through, but nothing arrives and the disappointment she feels mounts by the day, sadness and embarrassment causing a heated feeling in her cheeks and a heaviness in her chest.

She has all but given up on the idea of him ever replying, thinking she has made a fool of herself, or worse still, that her letter has gotten lost, when one evening there’s a knock at her front door.

Strong arms wrap around her, and once more her breath is stolen away, as Abraham’s mouth descends upon hers, backing her up into the living room as he kicks the door closed behind him.

He cups her cheek, keeping her close to him when they eventually part for air, his chest heaving. “Couldn’t find the right words for what those photos made me wanna do to ya, so thought it best I just show you.”

She squeals as he throws her over his shoulder, carrying her towards the bedroom and depositing her onto the bed as though she weighs nothing. Propping herself up on her palms she looks at him in wide eyed excitement as he looms over, his darkened gaze roving over her form before moving to follow her.

He bumps her nose with his as he plants a hand either side of her head. She can feel how hard he is already through his trousers, as he presses himself against her, and it makes her core throb with want.

“First,” he whispers, “I want you naked, no flimsy underwear compares to the feel of you bare against me.”

She gasps, as he all but tears the clothes from her body, the barely audible pop of buttons and seams lost to the desperate need she feels for him as she pulls at his shirt and trousers in turn. Sighing in pleasure at the sensation of his skin against hers once more, she feels a sense of relief. Having him like this is like returning home after a prolonged absence.

He kisses her, and she whines when he pulls away, the gesture all too brief, though she is quick to giggle as his lips trail a path from her neck, all the way down her body until he’s positioned between her legs.

“Then,” he continues, eyes flitting up to meet hers. “I’m gonna taste you, see if you’re sweet as I remember.”

Her head falls back with a moan as he licks a line with the flat of his tongue from her opening to her pearl. The rumble of appreciation that growls within his throat vibrates through her, and she buries her hands in his hair, certain she is ruining the carefully waxed and styled coif, though he is making her feel too good for her to care.

His hands grip her thighs as alternates between lapping at her with quick precise movements, and fucking her with his tongue. As she feels herself on the crest of her pleasure, he pulls away, and she cries out in frustration.

He grins as he moves back up her body, his chin slick and shining with her arousal.

“Now, I wanna feel you squeeze around my cock until you peak,” he murmurs, lining the head of himself up with her and pushing slowly forward.

Her mind goes blank as he presses inwards, only able to focus on the stretch of him inside of her, causing her to arch against him.

“I want every thought to be gone from your mind, every thought but how good it feels when I fuck you,” he continues, keeping his thrusts slow and steady, “So that that’s what you’re thinking of when I leave again and ask you to come with me.” As she feels the pressure begin to build in her lower belly again, she knows there is no way she can say no to him. Letters just won’t be enough anymore after this, she needs all of him.

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[inhuman-obey-me]

Diavolo with 🕶 and MC please? I excited to see what you’d do with that?

"I saw a little thing I didn’t like you tried to hide." - Diavolo/MC

There is a whistling through the rustle of the tree branches, high-pitched and ringing in your ears like alarm bells.

Just the wind, you try to tell yourself -- but the wind has never sounded so uncannily steady with its song. Nor, usually, do you expect to hear faint words hidden in its screaming -- Die. Die. Die. But that too, surely, is just a trick of your mind?

Well, this is the Devildom, after all. The strange and unexpected are to be expected.

You don't know how to tell your lover, crown prince of this very land, that his realm still unsettles you from time to time. He has always tried his very best to make you comfortable here. He himself is proof that terrors are not always so terrifying. His wings, gilded black and extended so wide that they could have blocked out any sun if one existed here, had terrified you the first time you'd seen them in full. But, so too does the expanse of them feel gentle and loving when he wraps those wings around you, a dark cocoon in which you share your secret passions.

You love him, and you love his realm. Scary though it may be, it's beautiful, too, and you try to focus on that. This world is not so dangerous as your human instincts would have you think.

Still -- did the trees you pass on your way home always look like these?

You realize it for certain when a whisper of the breeze against your face sends a chill shivering through your whole body.

Die. Die. Die!

This is not the way home. And you are not alone here.

"Who's there?" you call out, keeping your voice as steady as you can. You have been warned not to show fear -- demons can sense it, and they love the smell of it upon their prey. "Show yourself."

Die! Die! Die!

The whistling twists into a hideous laughter, and a wavering silhouette begins to coalesce before you, its form shimmering back and forth between handsome man and beautiful woman, though you know this creature is neither.

"Puny human, daring to command me?" Its words crackle like static, caught between channels of fury and delight. "Well, I am right here. But you are the one keeping secrets, lost little lamb."

To your surprise, you recognize this voice. It is one of your classmates at RAD, one that you had always found generally pleasant towards you. "Bealphares? What do you mean?"

"I never minded Lord Diavolo's plans for harmony between the realms. I didn't object to the exchange program, when so many others did. I didn't think humans were so bad. But then, today, I saw a little thing I didn't like you tried to hide," it trills, the end of its tirade whipping back into a shriek. "Did you think a pathetic little human like you has any right to our prince?"

In an instant, the air leaves your lungs as if pulled, your ribs crushing inwards at the sudden emptiness, and you drop to your knees. You try desperately to cast a spell to protect yourself, but your breath is too empty to form the words. Bealphares steps closer, cupping your face in its hands as it leans in close to hiss, "The prince of demons belongs with a demon."

"Stop there, Bealphares."

A great shadow falls over you both, as terrifying as the day you first saw it, and Diavolo's commanding presence swoops neatly down beside you. His golden eyes glow wild with a kind of anger you've rarely ever seen in him, and the air around him grows hot with raw magic.

"Lord Diavolo!" Bealphares releases you at once, scrambling to bow before its prince. You gratefully gasp in the crisp night air as the lesser demon anxiously spits out, "I-I can explain!"

"Very well. Explain." Your beloved's cold expression does not change, glaring down at your attacker. "Explain to me, Bealphares, spirit of air, why I've arrived to find one of our human exchange students on the verge of death at your hands. That's a grave offense, to try to attack one of my guests, here in the realm I rule."

Diavolo's voice rumbles like the deep shaking of a volcano, and his fangs glint dangerously in the moonlight as he speaks. Are they longer than usual? Sharper, too, you think -- though it's hard to tell, as the light distorts around the little embers that begin wisping out with each word.

"I will give you your chance to try to justify yourself. But keep this in mind -- I have the power to tell truth from lies. And if I do not find your answer to my satisfaction, Bealphares, I will carry out your punishment personally."

He takes a heavy step between you and the demon -- protective in one sense, threatening in another. His wings are outstretched so wide that you can hardly even see the other past them, with golden veins weaving glowing energy throughout. Though you cannot see, you hear the wind of the demon's voice faltering in the heat of the air as it whimpers, failing to form words.

"Now, go on then. Explain."