#Prince Raisin

[demiboydemon]

Trick or treat! He heard he could get some candies:

I would LOVE to give him some candy! Unfortunately all I have are these raisins 😔

[krysta-cross]

Rain (Mortal Kombat 11)

@thevoidwriting liquid husband 💦

[victorckk]

Here’s some Casimir and Marvin stuff from last night because the silly gay Martians are taking over my brain

Once I go to visit my fam this weekend I’ll be able to doodle some more of him

Hopefully

If I have the energy for it

Ah yes.. more Casimir + AOT stuff because I fixated on it a little too hard for the past 5 years 😭

[katriniac]

Silvio hates your wedding customs.

... not all the customs. Just one:

The DOLLAR DANCE

Picture it:

Silvio and Emma emerge from the wedding ceremony and go straight to the reception. It's all taking place in Rhodolite, because she told asked him.

That means Rhodolite customs are taking place.

When the emcee announces the "dollar dance", Silvio is at the open bar getting his drink refilled, so he doesn't take much notice.

Until men begin lining up to dance with the bride. His bride.

Silvio stares in disgust as the first man has the gall to slip paper money into her sleeve at the wrist. They begin to waltz.

"What. The. Fu--?? Hold my drink. Nah, on second thought --" He slams the liquor back, crassly wipes his lips, and stalks towards the dance floor.

Now the next man in line is putting a rolled-up bill under Emma's hem at the top of her shoulder.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

A few tumbled chairs, many foreign swear words, and one broken wrist later, Emma is explaining at the top-of-lungs what this wedding custom is all about.

Silvio matches her volume and stubbornness in refuting the fact that the custom is "stupid" and that she should know "no one gets to throw money at you except me".

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Amid the quietly stunned guests , Clavis gleefully puts a wad of cash in Nokto's palm.

Luke: " Why're you so happy to be forking over cash? Didn't you just loose the bet that Silvio would go ballistic over the dollar dance?"

Clavis: "Ah, yes, yes. I took that bet gladly, and raised the ante so high that Nokto couldn't refuse. I knew if this much money was on the line, he'd make certain the dollar dance would be at the reception."

Nokto: "A pleasure doing business with you."

Luke: *confused baby bear*

Clavis: *shrugs, guffaws* A nice, normal wedding dance is boring. Boring, boring, boring. The bribe -- er, I mean friendly wager -- was a way to ensure the occasion would hold some excitement!

[incorrectjane-andthedragon]

Prince Cuthbert: Can you please stop putting raisins in foods that would otherwise taste good? Pepper: But, your highness- Jester, interrupting: Your majesty, you are being unraisinable.

[corpiote]

in my mind gilbert has grey hair bc he is already an old man

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 5:48

Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.

You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).

But this was Bakugou, after all.

And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.

Not a good sign.

“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.

Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.

He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.

“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.

He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.

“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material. 

It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.

You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.

“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.

“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”

“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features. 

“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”

Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.

“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.

“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”

Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.

He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.

“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”

Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.

He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.

“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.

“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment. 

“Formula first before adding 1.3.”

He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.

“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”

“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”

He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.

“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”

“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.

Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.

His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”

“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.

Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.

He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.

With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.

It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe. 

Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.

He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”

“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”

Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.

“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.

“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”

Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another. 

“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”

He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.

“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents. 

Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”

His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.

“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.

Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”

“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.

Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.

His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.

His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.

Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.

Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come. 

“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“

“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”

By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”

“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.

“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”

“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“

“Delete that.”

“Hey— wai— no way!”

It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul Ashengrotto x reader

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

Series Masterlist

You stare blankly at the manuscript in front of you, feeling your soul slowly withering away, shriveling like an overcooked raisin under the weight of yet another tragic tale of misguided villainy. The title alone—The Villainess Who Was Actually Just Trying to Mind Her Own Business and Got Beheaded Anyway—had already set the tone for what you could only describe as a disaster in prose form. How this had slipped through several rounds of quality control was beyond you.

Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it was revenge. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You take a deep breath, a sigh so deep that it feels like it's being dragged up from the depths of your very soul, a sigh that could only be summoned by a story so ridiculous, so absolutely bonkers, that even you—seasoned proofreader extraordinaire—were questioning every life choice that had brought you here.

"Okay," you mutter to yourself, flipping through the pages with all the energy of a reluctant retiree trying to pick up knitting. "Let's see. We’ve got your standard fantasy kingdom where every noble is born with elemental powers. Classic. The saintess is the only one who can wield all four elements. Cool, cool, makes sense." You pause, eyes narrowing. "Except for the villainess who's faking it with a magical rock she bought off of Fantasy Craigslist and just... does all the same stuff the saintess can do without actually, you know, saintess-ing anything bad. Just... being suspiciously good at wind and fire, I guess?"

You squint at the text like it’s personally offended you. "So let me get this straight. The heroine—who, by the way, isn’t the real saintess—finds out about the rock and immediately turns into the nation’s tattletale. Like, she just full-on rats the villainess out to the entire country and gets her beheaded for daring to do an accidental cosplay of a saintess? Seriously?"

You blink. "And the prince? The so-called male lead? He’s not even mad because the villainess was evil or anything. No. He’s mad because she... rejected him? Oh, so that’s the crime. She bruised his precious princely ego, so naturally she deserves to lose her head. Makes perfect sense. Absolutely logical," you deadpan, flipping another page with growing disdain.

“And just when you think it can’t get any dumber,” you continue to mutter, “the heroine uses the exact same magic rock after she gets the villainess killed, struggles to use half the power, but instead of everyone questioning her, they just...” You drag a hand down your face. “They just... pat her on the back for her effort? What? Oh, bravo! Standing ovation! You’re so talented! What a genius!”

You want to scream. You can feel it building up inside you, a primordial rage that no amount of fantasy drivel can suppress. How... how did this get published? How did someone not raise their hand and go, “Hey, maybe the heroine is the real villain here? And maybe the villainess is just really good at rock collecting?”

Your eye twitches.

Then you get to the part where Azul Ashengrotto—a.k.a. the business owner and kingpin of the information and assassination game—gets dragged down in this hot mess of a plot for the crime of selling a magical rock. He’s not even involved in the drama. He just sold a crystal, did his job, and suddenly he’s collateral damage in this ridiculous farce. And beheaded. You slap the manuscript down on your desk, nearly choking on the sheer absurdity of it all.

“He sold a rock!” you yell to no one. “One. Rock! And he loses his head because the heroine doesn’t know how to mind her own damn business! And no one bats an eye?”

You imagine Azul, standing there with a bemused expression as the sword comes down, probably muttering something like, "Well, this is an unfortunate turn of events."

You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around the sheer audacity of it all. "So, let me get this straight. The heroine kills the villainess out of jealousy and rage, takes the same stone, uses it poorly, and somehow becomes the saintess? And no one questions it? Not even one guy in the back going, ‘Hey, wait a minute...’?"

A laugh escapes you, bitter and incredulous. "I’ve lost all faith in fantasy kingdoms. They deserve what’s coming to them. Honestly, if their idea of justice is to murder anyone with a shiny rock collection, they probably deserve whatever apocalyptic disaster is waiting in book two."

You sit back in your chair, contemplating the many ways you could disappear off the face of the Earth to avoid reading the inevitable sequel. Maybe you could fake your own death? Dramatically crash through a window with a glitter bomb, leaving behind a cryptic note that reads, “Gone to buy a rock, brb.”

But no. You were a professional. You would soldier on.

Then again, if this novel could get published, maybe it was time to start your own writing career. Surely you could cobble together something halfway decent. Maybe a story about a villainess who just wants to live her life and ends up getting murdered by a heroine with a major inferiority complex. Oh wait, that’s literally this garbage fire in front of me.

You sigh again, this one even deeper, more existential than the last, the type of sigh that could bring about world peace if properly harnessed. Your eyes wander from the steaming pile of poorly written drivel, caught somewhere between disbelief and mild homicidal thoughts. You rub your temples, wondering if proofreading was really the best career path for someone who still had shreds of sanity left.

"Maybe I should've been a baker," you mumble to yourself, stretching your arms overhead. "At least bread dough doesn’t hit me with nonsensical plot twists."

As you stand, ready to grab a snack to soothe your wounded soul, you don’t notice the precariously stacked pile of villainess novels towering on the shelf above your desk. The entire collection of "disaster-bound fantasy heroines and their poor life choices" sways ever so slightly as you brush against the table, and then... it happens.

One moment you're contemplating the logistics of moving to a remote island where bad writing can’t reach you, and the next, you hear a spine-chilling creak followed by a horrifying cascade of poorly bound paperbacks. The avalanche of literary mediocrity comes crashing down on you in one tragically comedic sweep.

"Are you kidding me—" is all you manage to choke out before the entire bookshelf’s worth of subpar villainess novels crushes you beneath their illogical weight. And of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, the last book to hit you in the face is titled, "The Villainess Who Tripped and Fell into her Own Grave—Oops!"

As the darkness closes in, your final thought is one of supreme exasperation: I cannot believe I’m being killed by the worst plotlines ever written. Death by plot twist. Too soon, yet not soon enough.

And then nothing. Just silence. Peace, finally.

You’d heard the phrase "no rest for the wicked," but honestly, who knew divine punishment was this over the top? Apparently, you'd racked up enough sins in your previous life to not only die under an avalanche of bad literature but to then be reincarnated into said literature. Because why not? The gods were clearly having a laugh.

When you open your eyes, you're not even phased. Nope. You don’t scream, cry, or panic. You just stare up at the overly ornate ceiling of what is clearly a mansion because, of course, the villainess is always absurdly rich. You're lying in an obnoxiously fluffy bed, and the first thing that pops into your mind is: Are you serious?

A quick glance in the mirror confirms it. There you are, standing in the overly frilly shoes of the villainess from the very same garbage novel that ended your life. Perfect. You take a deep breath, rub your temples (again), and give yourself a mental pep talk. "Okay, you’ve read this before, multiple times. You know the beats. You know the plot. You’ve got this."

Step one: don’t freak out. Because, really, this plot is bad enough without adding your personal panic to the mix. Step two: check the villainess's diary because, obviously, the previous inhabitant was stupid enough to leave all her secrets lying around like a teenager's unlocked Facebook account. Sure enough, you find it: a gloriously leather-bound journal detailing all the times plotted to impersonate the saintess. You roll your eyes. Not today, Satan.

You scan the pages, checking the timeline. You have a few months until the heroine rats you out, which means it’s time for step three: revenge. And no, you don’t mean the "oh, woe is me" type of revenge that makes you spiral into despair. You mean good old-fashioned pettiness, the kind that makes the heroine and the male lead’s lives miserable.

You can't help but snicker at the thought. It's karmic justice, really. They’re going to get a taste of the absolute horror you experienced reading their terrible, nonsensical love story. You spent hours proofreading their idiocy, now it's their turn.

You stand in front of the towering, ominous doors of Azul Ashengrotto’s office at Mostro Lounge, taking a deep breath before pushing them open. The dark, almost theatrical ambiance inside feels like a stage set for the devil himself to offer you a deal. But you’re no saintess—you’re the villainess of this story, and you’re here to strike a deal that’ll flip the entire script on its head.

Azul looks up from his desk, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your presence. “Ah, My Lady,” he greets smoothly, slipping into that charming, calculating smile of his. “What brings you to my humble establishment? Shouldn't you be busy pretending to be a saintess?"

You roll your eyes and take a seat without waiting for an invitation. "About that... I've decided to cancel my order for the magic stone."

Azul’s expression falters. “Cancel the order? But aren’t you the one planning to impersonate the saintess and secure your place in the royal court?”

You lean back in your chair, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, plans change. I’ve come to realize that there's a much better way to spend my time and resources—mainly, by humiliating the heroine and the prince for fun.”

Azul blinks at you, the corners of his lips twitching as if he’s not sure whether to laugh or be intrigued. “You... want to humiliate the heroine and the prince?”

You shrug, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. “Why not? They’re gonna be responsible for my end if I impersonate the saintess. I’ve already decided that instead of dying gracefully, I’m going to make their lives miserable. And that’s where you come in.”

Azul folds his hands on his desk, the smile growing on his face. “I see. And what exactly do you expect me to do?”

You pull out a blank cheque, sliding it across his desk. “Whatever you want. My family is wealthy, and my parents will gladly dance upside down on a chandelier if I asked them to. Write any amount you want, but you’re going to help me with my new plan.”

Azul’s eyes flicker with interest as he glances at the cheque. “And what exactly would that plan entail?”

“I want you to sabotage them,” you say simply. “The heroine, the prince—they’re going to suffer public humiliation. Every time they try to play the part of the perfect couple or flaunt their status as the so-called chosen ones, I want you to make sure they fail spectacularly. We’re going to tear apart their reputations piece by piece, and I need your expertise.”

Azul leans back in his chair, tapping a finger to his chin. “That sounds... intriguing. But I do believe I’ll need a bit more than just money to make this worth my time.”

“Name your price,” you reply coolly. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Azul’s smile widens, but it’s sharp. “I’ll take a hefty sum, of course. Let’s say... one hundred thousand gold. But I’ll also require two wishes that I can cash in at any time.”

Your brow arches. “Two wishes? And what exactly do you plan to use them for?”

Azul’s smile turns positively devilish. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something. It could be anything—information, a favor, perhaps something more. Who knows? I just want to keep my options open.”

You weigh the deal for a moment, then nod. “Fine. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. But I want results, Azul. Don’t disappoint me.”

Before he can respond, the door behind you slams open with a bang, and Floyd Leech strolls in, grinning ear to ear like a shark who’s just spotted its next meal. “Heh, you’re funny, Shrimpy,” he says, eyeing you with amusement. “This whole ‘let’s humiliate the prince and his little heroine’ thing? I like it. I’ll help. I wanna see the look on their faces when they get wrecked.”

Azul sighs dramatically. “Floyd, this is a delicate matter. You can’t just go around—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Floyd cuts him off, draping himself across your chair like a lazy cat. “But c’mon, wouldn’t it be more fun if I helped? We can make it real painful for ’em. How 'bout it, Shrimpy?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Honestly? I wouldn’t mind having you on board, Floyd. Your brand of chaos could be exactly what I need to really make them squirm.”

Floyd grins wider, nudging you playfully. “Now we’re talkin’! See, Jade? Shrimpy’s got taste.”

You glance over to where Jade is standing, quietly watching the entire exchange with a serene smile. “I’m not surprised,” he says in his calm, unsettling way. “After all, our esteemed client clearly knows how to turn a situation in their favor. It’s rather... admirable.”

You shoot Jade a look. “Please don’t make that sound like an insult.”

Jade chuckles softly. “Not at all. I find your tactics fascinating. I’ll be quite interested to see how this all unfolds.”

Azul clears his throat, clearly ready to bring the conversation back on track. “Well, if that settles it, we have a deal. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. Floyd and Jade will assist you, and I’ll personally oversee the sabotage.”

You grin, satisfied. “Perfect. Let’s give those two a taste of what real humiliation feels like.”

Azul inclines his head. “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear client.”

As you get up to leave, Floyd playfully bumps your shoulder again. “Heh, I like you, Shrimpy. Let’s make sure that prince and his girl get what’s coming to ’em. It’ll be a real laugh.”

You smirk as you make your way out of the office. “Oh, trust me, Floyd. This is going to be spectacular.”

And with that, the stage was set. The heroine and her precious prince had no idea what was coming their way. But you did—and with the help of the mischievous trio from Mostro Lounge, you were going to enjoy every second of it.

The royal ballroom glistened with opulence as golden chandeliers hung above the vast marble floors, reflecting the lavishness of the night. The music was soft yet upbeat, a perfect backdrop for the event of the season. Nobles twirled gracefully around the room, engaged in light conversation as they eyed one another with thinly veiled curiosity. You stood at the entrance, the heavy doors creaking behind you as you took a deep breath.

The villainess in this world had been a little too subtle for her own good—dresses that were elegant but far too modest, more befitting of someone trying to sneak through the ranks as a saintess. But you? You had other ideas. You weren’t about to blend into the background. Oh no, tonight was all about making a splash.

The dress you wore was nothing short of a masterpiece. The neckline plunged just enough to be daring, the skirt flaring dramatically around your legs as you moved. The villainess had always had potential, you realized as you caught your reflection earlier that evening. With a little effort, she'd looked like a queen.

And apparently, that effort wasn’t lost on the crowd. Conversations stuttered to a stop as you walked in, eyes swiveling toward you like moths to a flame. A smirk tugged at your lips. Good. They could look all they wanted. Tonight, you were more than the villainess. You were a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the male lead—Prince Arrogant-Entitled himself—to notice. He’d been chatting animatedly with the heroine, a sweet little thing dressed in pastels, who was practically bouncing on her feet with excitement.

But the moment you crossed the threshold, his gaze latched onto you like a leech, his conversation with the heroine cutting off mid-sentence as he abandoned her entirely. His eyes scanned you up and down with blatant appreciation, and you felt an unpleasant shiver crawl down your spine as he made his way toward you.

Sleazy little worm.

“My Lady,” he greeted you, standing too close for comfort. His voice dripped with what he likely assumed was charm. “You look ravishing tonight. I must say, your beauty is... overwhelming.”

You kept your expression neutral, though internally you gagged at his lackluster attempt at flirtation. The heroine, meanwhile, was glaring daggers from across the room. Not that it bothered you. Let her seethe.

You plastered on a fake smile, playing along for now. “Your Highness,” you replied, “I must say, your compliments are as subtle as ever.”

He laughed, his hand reaching out as if to brush your arm, but you sidestepped it gracefully. “You wound me, my lady,” he said, clearly trying to maintain the upper hand. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

You opened your mouth to deliver a polite but firm rejection, when suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tension with the smoothness of silk.

“Ah, apologies, Your Highness,” Azul’s voice was a breath of fresh air as he sidled up beside you, his arm slipping around your waist with practiced ease. “I’m afraid my date for the evening is already spoken for.”

The prince's face dropped, the smile frozen awkwardly as Azul’s words sunk in. You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to process how exactly this turn of events had occurred. “Your... date?” he stammered, looking between you and Azul.

Azul just smiled, that infuriatingly calm smile of his. “Yes,” he said, his tone light and polite but dripping with a silent victory. “I do hope you understand, Your Highness. After all, it wouldn’t do to leave such a radiant lady waiting, would it?”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Azul's ability to swoop in at just the right moment with perfect timing was nothing short of impeccable.

The prince was visibly flustered, caught completely off-guard by the public rejection. The heroine, still watching from across the room, looked like she was about to combust on the spot. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and you could practically feel the heat of her glare boring holes into you.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you said, dipping into a mocking little curtsy. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

And with that, you took Azul’s arm and let him lead you away from the prince, who stood frozen in humiliation as the ballroom buzzed with whispers around him.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Azul turned to you with an amused grin. “You seemed to be having fun back there.”

“Oh, I was,” you replied, chuckling. “But not as much fun as I’m about to have dancing with you.”

Azul raised an eyebrow, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as the two of you began to sway to the music. “Careful now,” he teased. “If you keep up that flirting, I might just start blushing.”

You grinned, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I thought you were immune to such things. What happened to your infamous poker face?”

“Hmm, perhaps I underestimated your charms,” he mused, his voice lower now as he twirled you effortlessly around the dance floor. “You certainly know how to keep a man on his toes.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Is that so? Because I think you’re the one getting flustered, Azul.”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. You knew you had him.

But then, just when you thought you had the upper hand, Azul dipped you suddenly, causing a surprised squeak to escape your lips. He leaned over you, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Flustered, hmm?” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. “I think you may have that backward, my dearest client.”

You blinked up at him, momentarily caught off-guard by the intensity in his eyes. Damn it—he was good at this.

“Well played,” you muttered, feeling your own cheeks heating up now.

Azul chuckled softly, pulling you back up into his arms as the music continued to swell around you. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We can call this round a draw.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Fine. But don’t think this is over.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a wink.

You’re jolted awake by the sound of frantic knocking on your bedroom door, followed by your maids bursting in like the world was ending. “My Lady!” one of them squeals. “The mafia is breaking into the house!”

Now, any sane person would hear this and immediately take steps to flee, barricade themselves in, or at the very least, hide under the bed. But you? No. In your infinite wisdom, still half asleep and probably only functioning on half a brain cell, you bolt out of bed and head straight to the living room like you’re ready to take on a gang of mobsters in your nightgown. What was it that you always said about wanting more excitement in life?

You storm into the living room, ready to confront the so-called "mafia," only to be greeted by none other than Azul, Jade, and Floyd. Well, they weren’t exactly what you expected, but then again, the maids had screamed ‘mafia,’ and these three did dabble in... questionably legal activities.

Floyd's already poking through your vase of expensive flowers, looking completely at home, while Jade is smiling in that eerie way of his that makes it hard to tell if he’s genuinely amused or planning to harvest your organs.

“Good morning,” Azul greets you smoothly, like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Apologies for the intrusion, but we have urgent business to discuss.”

You stare at them for a long moment, your confusion building. “I didn’t make an appointment with you guys. Did you make an appointment with me?”

Jade’s eyes gleam with mischief. “No appointment, but we’ve come across some information we thought you’d be interested in.”

You cross your arms, already sensing the chaos about to unfold. “Go on…”

“Well,” Jade says, stepping forward with an innocent smile (which, of course, is anything but), “it seems the prince and his little heroine are planning to attend a charity event today to show off their ‘generosity.’”

Floyd pops up behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulder like you’re best friends. “Want to crash it?” he asks, grinning wildly, his sharp teeth flashing. “It’s bound to be fun. Who knows what kinda trouble we can stir up?”

Azul adjusts his glasses, looking thoughtful yet undeniably excited. “There could be some... interesting opportunities there,” he muses. “And I wouldn’t mind attending, purely for business reasons, of course.”

You blink at them. Charity event? Crashing? Making the prince and heroine’s lives miserable? Well, hell, why not? You did wake up to the mafia in your living room, after all. “Fine,” you say with a smirk, “let’s do it. Let’s crash this event and see how generous our dear prince really is.”

The four of you arrive at the event like a troupe of misfits dressed in their Sunday best. The venue is packed with people, all fawning over the prince and the heroine like they’re some divine beings sent down to bless the peasants. The heroine’s practically glowing as she bathes in their attention, her overly sweet voice echoing through the hall as she accepts praise for what is—let’s be real here—a laughably small donation, considering who they are.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. The prince and heroine are practically bathing in the affection of these poor, unsuspecting people. "Oh, how generous they are!" people cry. "Such saints, oh thank the heavens!"

Yeah, not today, airhead.

You nudge Azul. “Let’s show them how it’s really done.”

Azul, already ahead of you, strides confidently toward the stage. You follow, not missing a beat, and together, you announce—no, proclaim—that you will be tripling the total amount of donations for the event.

The reaction is immediate. Complete chaos erupts. The organizers start crying tears of joy, running up to you with such fervor that you have no choice but to stand there and accept their hugs and gratitude, despite your overwhelming desire to swat them away. Floyd, cackling like a hyena, is playfully lifting some of them off the ground in his bear-like hugs, while Jade just stands off to the side, watching the chaos unfold with a bemused smile, occasionally offering polite nods of acknowledgment.

The prince, who had been gloating only moments before, now looks like he’s been slapped in the face. His expression is priceless—shock, embarrassment, and barely concealed rage all battling for dominance. The heroine’s smile has dropped completely, replaced with a furious scowl as she watches the organizers fawn over you instead. Her fists are clenched at her sides, and you can see the very moment her fragile ego shatters. Oh, how delicious.

Amidst all the madness, you catch yourself actually smiling—not one of your usual smirks or devious grins, but a genuine, warm smile. As much as this was all meant to be a petty revenge plan, you can’t deny the satisfaction that comes from seeing these people so happy. It's almost... heartwarming.

Azul turns to you at that exact moment, his usually calm expression softening as he sees your smile. He blinks, clearly caught off-guard by how radiant you look. For a split second, he seems to lose his composure, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink.

“You’re smiling,” he says, his voice almost quiet. “It suits you.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What, you’ve never seen me smile before?”

“Not like that,” Azul admits, his usual poise faltering as he looks down at you with something akin to awe. “It’s... different.”

Before you can respond, Floyd suddenly slides up between you, throwing an arm around both you and Azul with a grin. “Oho! Azul’s gettin’ all blushy on us, huh?” he teases, eyes glinting mischievously. “Careful, Shrimpy. You might actually be softening him up.”

Azul huffs, pushing Floyd away with a barely contained scowl. “You’re insufferable, Floyd.”

“Oh, come on, boss!” Floyd laughs, ruffling Azul’s hair before darting away to avoid his retaliation. “Just admit it, you’re totally into ‘em!”

Jade sidles up next to you, his ever-present smile in place. “Well, it seems things are progressing quite nicely,” he says, his tone light but teasing. “Perhaps we’ll see more of this warmth from you, hm? It’s quite refreshing.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh, shut up, both of you,” you say, though there’s no real malice in your words.

As the crowd around you finally begins to disperse, you feel a strange sense of contentment. Sure, you came here for revenge, but now? Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

Azul’s first wish. He could’ve asked for anything—power, prestige, wealth beyond imagination. But no, he wants to open a café. A legit café. Sure, his shady business would still run in the background, but this time, he wanted something wholesome, something real. And of course, he wants you to sponsor it, not just with money but with your influence—Queen of the Social World that you are after your fabulous ball stunt.

You’re intrigued, mostly because it’s Azul, but also because, well, it was a bit funny imagining him in a cute apron, serving cakes and coffee like some innocent café owner. But business was business, and you were all in.

The following weeks were spent in an intense whirlwind of planning with Azul, Floyd, and Jade. What started as you simply agreeing to fund Azul’s café spiraled into you helping them design the entire place, from choosing the colors of the tiles to picking out the cups, to menu planning. You found yourself oddly invested, not because Azul asked for your help, but because, strangely enough, you liked spending time with them.

Like tonight, for example. You were supposed to be working on the café’s logo, but instead…

“Stay still, Floyd,” you muttered as you carefully painted his nails. Floyd, surprisingly, wasn’t squirming, but he was giving Jade some ridiculous side-eye. “If you mess this up, I swear, I’ll let Jade poison you with the mushrooms.”

Jade chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Poison? Now that’s an interesting accusation. I thought we were discussing the edible variety.”

“Oh, don’t play innocent, Jade. I’ve read up on your particular interests,” you quipped, finishing off one of Floyd’s fingers and moving on to the next. “And besides, everyone knows you’re a master of both the edible and the... not-so-edible.”

Floyd, meanwhile, grinned at you. “Shrimpy! You know, you're real funny, you know that? I should make you my personal nail artist. You’re doing way better than Jade ever did!”

Jade gave Floyd a look, crossing his arms in mock offense. “Please, Floyd. My skills are exceptional, but you insist on ruining the results every time.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s because Floyd never sits still long enough for anything decent to happen. Isn’t that right?” You turned to Floyd, who was just nodding along like you’d given him the biggest compliment of the year.

Azul entered the room at that moment, looking slightly confused to find you painting Floyd’s nails. Without missing a beat, you reached out and tugged him over, all casual. “You’re next, Azul. Sit.”

He blinked at you, half surprised and half flustered by how natural this all felt. “I-I didn’t realize I’d signed up for this,” he stammered but still sat down beside you like he couldn’t refuse.

“You didn’t. But now you’re here, and you’ll be leaving with your nails looking fabulous,” you said with a grin. You took his hand, and despite how awkwardly he tried to keep his composure, you felt him relax under your touch.

“So, what were you discussing before I arrived?” Azul asked, glancing between you and Jade, who was still sitting nearby.

“Mushrooms,” Jade said with an oddly proud smile. “Our friend here is surprisingly knowledgeable about rare species. It’s rather refreshing to have such an... engaged conversation partner.”

“Well,” you said, dipping the nail brush back into the polish, “you’d be surprised what you can pick up after spending a considerable amount of time researching... various topics.”

“Of course,” Jade said, his smile just a little too knowing for your liking. But you didn’t take the bait, instead focusing on Azul’s hand, painting a particularly delicate pattern with precision.

As you finished Azul’s nails, Floyd suddenly launched himself at you, wrapping you in an unexpected squeeze. “Shrimpy! You’re my best friend now. Best. Friend.”

You barely had time to react as he practically crushed you, and you patted his back with a small laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment... Floyd. Now, could you maybe let me breathe?”

Azul, who had been watching the exchange with a soft look on his face, finally stepped in. “Floyd, don’t suffocate our sponsor, please.”

Floyd reluctantly let you go but stayed attached to your side like a loyal puppy. “But Shrimpy’s so soft and fun!”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving Floyd away. “Okay, okay. Back off, or you’ll mess up your nails.”

Jade chuckled again, his gaze softening as he watched the three of you. “I must say, I never thought we’d be having... a sleepover, of sorts.”

You laughed. “Neither did I, to be honest. But I don’t mind. It’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Relaxing, being able to just... exist.”

Azul glanced down at his newly painted nails, feeling the warmth of the room and the camaraderie between you all. “Yes,” he murmured softly, “it is.”

And for a brief moment, Azul found himself wishing that nights like these could last forever.

The sun was already low on the horizon as you made your way toward Mostro Lounge, your daily visits now a routine you couldn’t seem to avoid. It had become a comforting ritual: meeting Azul, Jade, and Floyd, where the lines between business and friendship blurred into late-night planning sessions. You had just started to hum softly to yourself when a figure stepped into your path, blocking your way.

You stopped short, frowning as you recognized the sleazy, arrogant smirk plastered on the Crown Prince's face. He was the last person you wanted to deal with today. Or ever.

“There you are,” the prince drawled, taking a step closer to you, his hand reaching for your arm. “I’ve been thinking about you. Why don’t you stop all this nonsense and reconsider me as a suitor, hmm? You know I can offer you far more than Azul ever could.”

You stiffened as his hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip tighter than necessary, and you glared up at him. “Let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth.

The prince’s expression darkened, and he yanked you closer with a cruel tug. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You should be grateful I’m even giving you the time of day—”

A loud, unmistakable voice interrupted. “Oi, you slimy bastard!” Floyd’s voice boomed from behind you, and the next thing you knew, the prince’s hand was wrenched off your wrist as Floyd grinned down at him with an unsettling amount of excitement in his eyes. “You wanna keep those fingers or should I snap ‘em off for ya?”

The prince recoiled, his confidence wavering as Floyd stepped between the two of you, looking unhinged and ready to throw down at any moment. “Do you have any idea who I am—”

Floyd just laughed, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop. “You really think I care? Touch Shrimpy again, and I’ll show you why it’s a bad idea.”

Just as the prince looked like he was going to say something, Jade appeared at your side, his presence cold and menacing. His polite smile only made the threat more ominous. “Your Highness, I believe my brother gave you a fair warning. I suggest you heed it unless you wish to experience... unpleasant consequences.”

The prince looked between the two brothers, weighing his options. Though his pride was clearly hurt, the danger in their eyes finally seemed to register. He took a step back, sneering at you. “This isn’t over.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jade said, his smile never faltering. “If you value your position and your life.”

With that, the prince turned on his heel and left, and it wasn’t until his retreating figure disappeared that you realized you were shaking. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your knees weak, and your breath came out shakier than you wanted it to.

“Shrimpy, you okay?” Floyd’s voice was softer now, lacking its usual teasing tone. He turned to you, his expression shifting from anger to concern.

Jade, too, watched you carefully. “You’re trembling. Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop the quiver. Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Floyd first, burying your face in his chest. He stiffened for a second, surprised, before his arms enveloped you gently, as if unsure of how much pressure to apply.

“‘S okay, Shrimpy,” Floyd mumbled into your hair. “I gotcha.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling Jade’s comforting hand rest on your shoulder. When you pulled away from Floyd, Jade was there too, his smile uncharacteristically soft. You hugged him as well, and for a moment, all the tension seemed to melt away as the Leech brothers stood there, silently offering their comfort.

By the time you made it to Mostro Lounge, Azul was already waiting, his expression brightening when he saw you approach—until he noticed your pale face and the tight look of concern on both Floyd and Jade’s features.

“What happened?” Azul asked immediately, his voice sharper than usual.

You hesitated for a second, glancing toward the twins. But before you could answer, Floyd spoke up. “The damn prince tried to pull some shit with Shrimpy.”

Azul’s entire demeanor darkened, the air around him thickening with icy fury. “Is that so?” His voice was calm, too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I see. Well, it seems our little game has taken a new turn.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Azul?”

Azul turned to you, his stormy eyes locking with yours, and despite the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, he smiled—a smile that sent chills down your spine, but also made you feel... protected. “From this point on, your revenge is my revenge. I won’t allow that fool to get away with this.”

You could only nod as the weight of his words settled over you. What had started as a personal vendetta was now much larger. Azul had made it personal, and with his intelligence and the Leech brothers by your side, you had no doubt the prince would soon regret the day he ever laid a hand on you.

Azul reached out and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make sure he never forgets this lesson.”

And with that, you knew—there was no going back now. It wasn’t just about your revenge anymore. You had a powerful ally who was more than willing to turn the tables. And for the first time since you’d been thrown into this chaotic world, you felt truly... safe.

It all started with a completely innocent plan.

Well, innocent in the way that any plan involving Jade and Floyd Leech could be. You were sitting in Azul's office, sipping tea, when Floyd flopped onto the sofa like a bored toddler who’d been forced to sit through an economics lecture.

"Ugh, I’m bored,” he groaned, throwing an arm dramatically over his face. “Let’s go mess with someone. Like, now.”

Azul, across from you, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have work to do, Floyd. You can’t just—"

“I wanna mess with someone," Floyd whined, cutting him off, “and you know who’s real fun to squish? That princessy little heroine.”

Your ears perked up. Oh no. No, no. This was bad.

But also tempting.

Azul gave you a side-eye like he already knew you were considering the chaos. “We’re not doing this,” he said firmly, like he was talking to two feral cats he had to babysit.

Jade, standing ever-so-politely by the door with his signature smile, chimed in. “I must say, brother, it does sound like a rather… entertaining idea.” His eyes glinted in that creepy way that made you unsure if he was plotting your doom or just mentally filing away a new tea recipe involving venomous plants.

“YESSS!” Floyd shot up from the couch, his mood doing a complete 180. “Let’s go squish her, let’s go squish—"

“No,” Azul snapped, sending you a warning look. “Don’t encourage this.”

You, of course, ignored the warning look entirely. “I mean… it's not the worst idea in the world.” You gave a dramatic sigh. “Someone has to put her in her place.”

Azul’s eye twitched. “We had a plan—”

“And now we have fun,” you interrupted, standing up and straightening your jacket like you were about to lead an army into battle. “Come on, Azul. When was the last time we had fun?”

Azul opened his mouth to retort, but Floyd was already bouncing around the room like a hyperactive puppy. “Ooooh, we’re gonna have fun, we’re gonna have fun!”

Jade, always the picture of composure, smiled serenely. “Shall I prepare the necessary… ingredients?”

Azul looked like he was about to pass out from sheer exasperation. “What ingredients?!”

But it was too late. The twins were already in full scheming mode, and you were all-in.

Twenty minutes later, you were sneaking—well, you were sneaking. Jade was strolling casually, and Floyd was giggling—through the palace gardens where the heroine had set up her usual tea party, surrounded by noble ladies with IQs lower than the calorie count of their diet biscuits.

The plan was simple: make her life miserable. The execution, however, was where it got beautifully wacky.

Floyd had brought a lot of frogs. (Don’t ask where he got them.)

The heroine was sitting, blissfully unaware, serving tea and playing the perfect little princess as usual. You felt your eye twitch just looking at her.

“Eww,” Floyd whispered beside you, wrinkling his nose. “She’s got that gross fake smile on again. Makes me wanna squish her even more.”

“Patience, Floyd,” Jade murmured, handing him a cup of “tea”—which was, in reality, some concoction Jade had brewed that you suspected involved swamp water. “We mustn't rush.”

Azul, standing beside you, was facepalming so hard you were surprised his glasses didn’t snap in two. “This is a disaster.”

You grinned. “No, this is a masterpiece.”

Just as the heroine raised her cup to sip her tea, Floyd, who was clearly too impatient to wait for subtlety, threw three frogs straight at the tea table.

SPLAT!

Chaos. Utter chaos. The noble ladies screamed, cups and saucers flew, and the heroine herself jumped back like the frogs were molten lava. Her chair tipped, and she fell—right into the flowerbed, splashing herself with tea and dirt.

Jade clapped politely, ever the gentleman. “Bravo, Floyd. That was an excellent throw.”

The heroine scrambled to her feet, gasping and red-faced, frantically brushing dirt and tea from her dress. “Wh-what—how dare—"

“Oh nooooo,” Floyd said, dramatically clasping his hands to his cheeks. “It looks like you fell! So clumsy! And right before your party too. That’s soooo embarrassing~!”

Azul turned to you with a look that screamed I told you this was a bad idea.

You, however, were practically glowing. “This is the best day of my life.”

“I-I’ll have you all arrested!” the heroine spluttered, her hair falling in disarray as she glared daggers at you and the Leech twins.

“Oh?” you said sweetly, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “For what? Frogs? You think we command amphibians, your grace? You’re so flattering.”

Azul cleared his throat, stepping in with his best diplomatic smile. “Now, now, let’s not escalate this. It was clearly an unfortunate mishap, and I’m sure you’ll be able to recover… in time.”

The heroine narrowed her eyes at him, her cheeks burning in humiliation. “You think this is funny, don’t you?!”

Floyd leaned over Azul’s shoulder, grinning like a shark. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Before she could retort, Jade suddenly stepped forward, his usual calm smile widening just a bit too much. “Perhaps it would be wise to retreat and freshen up, Miss. After all, one mustn’t linger in such… messy conditions.”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then—seeing the eyes of all the other noble ladies on her, their whispers starting to spread—she whirled around, storming off with a huff.

As soon as she was out of sight, you and Floyd doubled over, laughing like lunatics.

Azul, pinching the bridge of his nose again, shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m associated with any of you.”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” you managed to say through giggles, wiping a tear from your eye. “This was gold!”

“I still think we should’ve used the snakes,” Floyd added, totally serious.

Jade, always the perfectionist, just gave a little hum. “Next time, perhaps.”

Azul sighed deeply, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment. “I need a vacation.”

You clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Azul. Admit it. You had fun.”

He glanced at you, his lips twitching slightly as if he was fighting a smile. “…Perhaps.”

And with that, the four of you left the wreckage of the tea party behind, victorious and full of glee. The heroine would be recovering from this disaster for weeks.

Sometimes, revenge really was a dish best served with frogs.

The evening was quiet as you and Azul strolled through the town, the air filled with the subtle hum of night creatures, the scent of blooming flowers mixing with the cool night breeze. It was peaceful. Too peaceful, perhaps, as you noticed Azul shifting nervously beside you.

"Are you alright?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, watching as he straightened his posture a little too quickly. He was trying to play it cool, but you could tell that there was something bothering him.

"Of course," he replied with an air of forced calm. "Just enjoying the evening, that's all."

You nodded, though his tenseness made you smile internally. Here was Azul, calm and collected under all circumstances—except in moments like these, where even the tiniest of things could throw him off. It was charming, really.

And then, out of nowhere, a loud rustling erupted from the nearby bushes. Before you could react, Azul let out a strangled, startled yelp, practically leaping into your arms in an impressive feat of acrobatics you hadn’t quite expected. You blinked down at him, his arms clinging tightly to your shoulders as he cowered against you.

“W-what was that?!” he stammered, clearly shaken, his eyes darting around like a nervous prey animal.

You craned your neck to see what had caused the commotion, only to spot… a particularly fat raccoon waddling out of the bushes. The creature glanced at you lazily, munched on a discarded piece of bread, and then ambled away into the night.

“Azul,” you began slowly, “it’s just a raccoon.”

Azul, looking rather pale, cleared his throat and tried to regain his dignity, though he was still very much in your arms. "I-I see… It merely startled me, that’s all."

For a moment, you considered putting him down, but then you looked at him—his wide, flustered eyes, his pink-tinged cheeks—and decided, "Nope." With a little shift, you adjusted his weight in your arms and started walking again, as if carrying the mafia boss-turned-café-owner like a blushing bride was the most normal thing in the world.

Azul blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you," you said simply.

"But—"

"No ‘buts.’ Just relax," you said cheerfully, striding forward. Azul's face went from mildly shocked to utterly dumbfounded as you continued to carry him through the quiet town square like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Honestly, you’re pretty light,” you teased, trying to hold back a grin. “I should carry you more often.”

Azul cleared his throat, his face a deep crimson now, but you didn’t miss the way his arms stayed looped around your shoulders. His voice was a little quieter when he finally spoke again. “Well, if you insist…”

You chuckled, enjoying his rare moment of vulnerability. As much as he liked to keep his composed businessman mask, Azul clearly wasn’t immune to your charm. You could see it in the way he leaned a little closer, and for a moment, the teasing gave way to something softer, something a little more real.

When you finally set him down after several streets of wandering, Azul adjusted his glasses, his composure returning. But then he turned to you, an odd glint in his eye. “You know… I’ve been thinking. About a way to get back at the prince.”

Your eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. “Oh? Do tell.”

He folded his arms behind his back, looking as though he was trying to frame this in a way that didn’t reveal too much. “It’s quite simple, really. A business arrangement. A… fake engagement.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. He cleared his throat and continued. “If we pretend to be engaged, it would irritate the prince, perhaps even force him into a rash decision. It would also be good for my public image. And, of course, you would gain the satisfaction of seeing him completely humiliated.”

You stared at him for a moment, then smirked. “Azul… do you want to date me?”

He choked on absolutely nothing, sputtering, “W-what— I— that’s not what I said—”

You rolled your eyes, amused by how he was floundering. “It’s fine, Azul. I get it. You want to date me. You don’t have to frame it like a business deal.”

Azul blinked rapidly, caught between mortification and something else—something that looked like hope. “Well, that’s… I mean…”

“And if you really want to make it official,” you continued with a grin, “why don’t we just make the engagement real?”

Azul’s flustered expression softened into something utterly pleased. For a moment, he stood there, barely containing the wide smile that threatened to break free. “You… You’d really consider that?”

“I think it would be fun,” you said with a wink. “Plus, it’ll definitely piss off the prince.”

Azul finally allowed himself to smile—a genuine, relieved smile that made your heart skip a beat. “In that case… I would be honored.”

The next morning, you decided to really turn things up a notch. You knew the prince and the heroine were planning to spend their day parading around the town square, fishing for compliments and praise. So, naturally, you decided to plan your very public proposal right in the middle of their little event.

You stood with Azul in the town square, both of you perfectly dressed for the occasion. The crowd gathered, waiting for the prince’s grand appearance, but before he could make his big entrance, you stole the spotlight. Grabbing Azul’s hand, you dragged him to the center of the square, and with a dramatic flourish, you dropped to one knee.

“Azul Ashengrotto,” you began, projecting your voice loud enough for the entire square to hear, “will you do me the honor of becoming my fiancé?”

The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling through the commoners. The prince, who had just appeared with the heroine on his arm, looked absolutely dumbfounded, while the heroine herself looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

Azul, ever the dramatic actor, placed a hand over his heart as if he was deeply moved. “Of course!” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It would be my greatest honor.”

The crowd erupted into applause as you slipped a ring onto his finger, and Azul pretended to wipe away a tear, leaning in to whisper, “You know, I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

You grinned up at him, whispering back, “Well, you’re the one who wanted to fake it. Might as well make it memorable.”

Azul let out a small laugh, then looked at you with something softer in his eyes. “I have to admit… this isn’t so bad.”

And for the first time since this whole revenge plot began, you found yourself feeling… happy. Not just because you’d embarrassed the prince and heroine, though that certainly was satisfying. But because standing here, with Azul by your side, it felt like maybe, just maybe, this arrangement could be more than just a scheme.

Azul sniffled dramatically, playing up the moment for all it was worth, but you saw the genuine affection in his eyes. And as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, you couldn’t help but smile, truly and honestly happy for once—happy just to exist here with Azul, your hand firmly in his.

Tea parties were the bane of your existence. Seriously, you’d rather file taxes for a hundred years or listen to the prince’s self-praising monologues on loop than sit at one more dainty little table surrounded by frills and forced giggles. But, here you were, once again trapped in the depths of social hell, smiling so hard your face muscles were cramping.

“Isn’t this just delightful?” one of the duchesses chirped, her laugh tinkling like a bell forged from your nightmares. You could practically hear your soul dying.

You plastered on a fake smile. “Absolutely. A dream come true.”

Across the table, the heroine herself—Miss Sunshine and Butterflies—fluttered around like she was hosting the fanciest gala of the year. You bit back a groan as she served tea to everyone, her stupidly sweet smile never faltering. But there was a gleam in her eye, something almost off about the way she was handing out those cups.

You squinted. Was it just you, or did her eyes always look like that? Beady little things, like a snake pretending to be a fluffy bunny. Ugh, maybe it was just her entire vibe that set you off. You wouldn’t be surprised if she threw in a few spiteful herbs just to ruin your day further.

“Here you go!” she chirped, placing a cup of Rosehip in front of you. Her eyes gleamed again.

Okay, weird.

Before you could think too hard about it, Azul’s hand slid across the table. With a smooth, practiced movement, he swapped your cup with his, like this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

You blinked at him, raising a brow. “What? Did you want rosehip that badly?”

Azul smiled, giving you a soft shrug. “I’ve always been partial to it.”

That was… well, typical Azul. You shrugged it off. Maybe he just wanted to get a taste of a different blend, and it wasn’t like you were going to argue over tea.

And then he took a sip.

And immediately coughed up blood.

"Azul?!" you shrieked, eyes widening as he doubled over, clutching his throat. The teacup slipped from his hand and shattered against the table. Panic shot through your chest like a dagger.

"Oh my god, Azul!" you were up and out of your chair faster than you’d ever moved in your life, diving next to him on the floor as his coughing turned wet and ragged. Blood splattered onto the pristine tablecloth, and all you could hear was your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “No, no, no, NO, this is NOT happening!”

Azul’s face was turning ashen, his breathing shallow, and you were completely losing it.

“What the hell was in that tea?!” You turned, glaring murderously at the heroine, who just stood there, wide-eyed and shocked. Your hands trembled as you pulled Azul closer, cradling his head against your lap like he was going to die any second.

“Stay with me, dammit! Don’t you DARE leave me like this!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. “We haven’t even finished the damn revenge plot, you idiot! I-I didn’t even get to tell you I like you!”

Healers finally came rushing in, but by then you were an absolute mess—full-on ugly crying, gripping Azul’s shirt so hard your knuckles turned white. You were inconsolable, practically wailing like the world was ending because, to you, it really felt like it was.

“P-please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t die, okay?! You can have my soul, my fortune, my entire wardrobe, I don’t care! I’ll even stop plotting revenge, just don’t—don’t—” you hiccupped through sobs, nearly incoherent at this point.

Somehow, through your hysterical bargaining with the universe, the healers managed to stabilize Azul. His breathing evened out, the blood stopped flowing, and you could hear them saying something about the poison wearing off. But all you could do was sit there, holding him as the storm of emotions tore through you like a hurricane.

It felt like an eternity before he was finally awake and stable, sitting up in bed after what felt like the longest, most agonizing night of your life. And when you saw him there, looking far too smug for someone who had just almost died, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?!” You stormed into the room, furious tears still clinging to your lashes. “What in the name of all that’s holy possessed you to drink that?!”

Azul blinked at you, clearly not expecting the outburst. “I didn’t want you to get hurt—”

“I DON’T CARE!” you shrieked, pacing around like a madwoman. “You almost died! Do you have any idea what that did to me?!”

Azul opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, throwing your hands up. “The deal’s off, Azul! I’m done! No more revenge, no more schemes, I don’t want to be a part of this if you’re gonna be coughing up blood and nearly dying on me!”

You were about two seconds away from spiraling into another sobfest when suddenly, Azul grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him. Before you could even protest, his lips crashed onto yours, shutting you up immediately.

You blue screened.

For a solid five seconds, all you could think was: Oh, he’s kissing me. And then, Wait, he's kissing me!

He pulled back, looking exasperated and amused all at once. “Will you calm down?” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to see this through. For you.”

You blinked, completely thrown off. “But… why?”

“Because,” he smirked, “you’re not the only one with a vendetta. And, well,” his eyes softened a little, “because I care about you.”

Your heart stuttered, and you stared at him, still not quite over the kiss. “You what?”

Azul chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare sight of you being completely speechless. “Sounds like you care about me too,” he teased. “Or did I hallucinate you confessing your undying love while I was poisoned?”

Your face flushed red, and you crossed your arms defensively. “I wasn’t confessing my undying love, I was panicking, okay? But, yeah. Fine. I like you. I was gonna tell you sooner, but then you had to go and die on me.”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t die.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “You almost did.”

He laughed, and you swore your heart did a little flip. “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up…” he leaned closer again, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What do you say we continue this revenge plot? With less near-death experiences, of course.”

You eyed him warily. “Only if you promise to never pull that shit again.”

Azul chuckled and gave you a playful, solemn look. “I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still pounding as you leaned in, pulling him into another kiss. And this time, there was no poison, no tears, no panic—just the two of you, finally on the same page for once.

And maybe, just maybe, you could pull off this revenge scheme and come out of it with something even better.

It was a party meant for the elite of the kingdom—everyone who considered themselves someone was present. Glistening chandeliers, extravagant gowns, and enough fake smiles to power an entire city. But all you could focus on was the prince—who was pretending not to undress you with his eyes from across the ballroom—and the heroine, fluttering about with her fake miracles and equally fake modesty.

You stood by Azul, nursing a glass of wine and feeling like your patience was thinner than ever. But tonight was the night. The two of you had been planning this for weeks. Everything was in place, and the heroine and the prince were about to get the public humiliation they so richly deserved. The prince, with his wandering hands and slimy charm, had made it no secret he was obsessed with you, the villainess. And the heroine? A conniving fraud with no real powers, just cheap tricks and affairs with every married noble she could get her hands on. They were perfect for each other.

Azul adjusted his glasses, his smirk subtle but telling. “Are you ready?”

You glanced at him, a wicked grin spreading across your face. “Born ready.”

The two of you exchanged a nod, and as Azul sauntered toward the prince’s little circle of sycophants, you made your way toward the heroine, who was doing her best impression of a saintly flower surrounded by admirers. The second you reached her, she turned to you with that fake smile, the kind that said I wish I could set you on fire, but I’ll settle for pretending to like you.

“Ah, it’s so good to see you,” she cooed, her eyes scanning you for a flaw to latch onto.

You gave her a saccharine smile, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Likewise. I couldn’t help but overhear your little chat about your latest miracle—what was it this time? Turning water into wine?”

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh, nothing so grand. Just helping a few people in need, as always.”

“Helping?” you raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall several of those ‘people in need’ being married men. Some of them not exactly in need of healing, but more… in need of a different kind of attention.”

Gasps erupted around you. The heroine’s face turned a rather satisfying shade of white.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” she stammered, her composure cracking.

“Oh, I’m not implying anything,” you said, voice turning sharp as a blade. “I’m flat-out saying it. You’ve been using your so-called ‘holy powers’ as a cover while having affairs with multiple married men. That’s not even the worst of it, though, is it? Let’s talk about your miracles—or should I say, your alchemy tricks.”

More gasps. Nobles all around were now staring, whispers spreading like wildfire. And as for the heroine? She looked like she was about to faint.

“You—you’re lying!” she screeched, eyes wide with desperation.

“Oh, am I?” You pulled out a letter, one of many you and Azul had collected. “Because this says otherwise. A love letter to Lord Ainsworth, a very married man, detailing your... special ‘healing sessions.’” You fluttered the letter in front of her face, then loudly cleared your throat, reading aloud, “Your touch is divine, and I felt so... blessed after our long night together. Honestly, your vocabulary could use some work. Not exactly poetic, is it?”

The heroine was trembling now, and the crowd around you was in stunned silence. But you weren’t done. Oh no. You turned to where Azul was confronting the prince. Perfect timing.

Azul was speaking smoothly, voice calm but lethal. “And speaking of deception, Your Highness, should we address your... exemplary battlefield skills? I’ve heard rumors that when the kingdom needed you most, you deserted the warfront. Ran off with a servant girl while your men perished. Am I wrong?”

The prince, who had been sneering at you from afar, suddenly looked as though he’d been slapped. “That’s preposterous!”

“Oh?” Azul’s smirk deepened. “So, you didn’t flee like a coward and abandon your post? Perhaps we should ask your former comrades. Oh wait, we can’t—they’re dead.”

Gasps turned into outright murmurs now, the room swirling with scandal. The prince, visibly sweating, attempted to regain control. “I don’t have to listen to this nonsense! Guards! Arrest these—”

You cut him off with a laugh, stepping forward. “Oh, and before you get all high and mighty, let’s not forget your little... habit of harassing women at court. Everyone’s heard about it, but no one’s had the guts to say it out loud. You have no idea how many complaints have been buried by your influence.”

The prince’s face turned purple. He looked like a fish flopping on dry land, desperate to escape. The nobles around him, previously loyal lapdogs, were now backing away, muttering to each other in disbelief.

The heroine finally broke, shrieking like a banshee. “You can’t do this to us! You’ll regret this!”

You turned to her with a smile that could only be described as gleeful. “I already do, dear. Trust me, being in the same room with you is enough regret for a lifetime.”

And with that, Azul snapped his fingers, signaling the beginning of your grand exit.

In the chaos that followed—nobles yelling, the prince and the heroine in absolute shambles—Floyd, with a cackle, grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “Time to go, Shrimpy!”

“What is it with you and throwing me over your shoulder?!” you hollered, flailing. But you were laughing, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Meanwhile, Jade was quick to hoist Azul over his shoulder, ignoring Azul’s indignant protests. “I am fully capable of walking, Jade!”

Jade chuckled. “But this is faster.”

With that, the four of you barreled out of the ballroom, tearing through the palace halls like children who’d just pulled the most epic prank of their lives. You could hear the sounds of guards scrambling, but none of them seemed to have the nerve to chase after you. After all, exposing the kingdom’s so-called saviors was no small feat.

“Where are we even going?!” you laughed, gripping onto Floyd’s jacket as he sprinted full speed, not slowing down for a second.

“Anywhere that isn’t here, duh!” Floyd cackled, clearly having the time of his life.

After a few more turns, you finally found a secluded garden, well away from the palace guards, and Floyd unceremoniously dropped you onto the ground. Jade did the same to Azul, though with a bit more care.

You took a moment to catch your breath, still riding high from the adrenaline of it all. Azul straightened his coat, still clearly annoyed by the shoulder-ride but too composed to say much about it.

“Well, that was fun,” you said, leaning back against the garden wall. “So, what now? Are we fugitives yet?”

Azul, now looking much more composed, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “There’s still the matter of my wish. You promised me one, remember?”

You blinked. “Oh, right. What do you want?”

Azul hesitated, then fixed you with a look that was surprisingly serious. “Come with me to the Coral Sea.”

You stared at him. “What, like... right now?”

Azul’s eyes flickered with something like doubt. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, no, I’m in,” you interrupted, grinning. “Let’s go right now before we get arrested or something.”

Azul blinked, clearly not expecting you to agree so readily. “You… you’re serious?”

You shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? This place is a nightmare. You know what sounds fun? Underwater adventures. Coral Sea? Sign me up. Let’s get out of here before they send a search party.”

Floyd laughed loudly, throwing an arm around you. “I like this plan! Let’s see how Shrimpy handles the ocean!”

Jade chuckled, his smile as sharp as ever. “It seems we have an impromptu vacation ahead of us.”

Azul, still looking somewhat stunned, finally smiled—though it was a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Very well. Let’s go, then. The Coral Sea awaits.”

The Coral Sea was nothing like you expected, but everything you needed. You’d relocated your café to this underwater haven, a place filled with bioluminescent reefs, shimmering schools of fish, and an air of quiet magic. Running a café under the sea was a wild dream, but somehow, you and Azul had made it happen. Every day felt like an adventure, with Floyd and Jade always testing your patience—and taste buds—with their questionable yet inventive cooking.

Today was no different.

You stood at the counter of your café, watching with a mix of amusement and mild horror as Floyd dumped a strange, glowing ingredient into a bubbling pot. Jade stood next to him, calmly adding delicate pinches of spices that, according to him, would “bring out the flavor.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So, what exactly are you making today? Because last time, I’m pretty sure I saw sparks coming out of the dish.”

“Don’t worry, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, giving the pot an enthusiastic stir. “This one won’t explode! Probably.”

Jade smirked, clearly enjoying your wariness. “It’s a new dish we’ve been perfecting—Sea Serpent Stew. I think you’ll find it... quite unique.”

You blinked. “Sea Serpent… what now?”

Floyd cackled. “Relax, it’s just a name! No actual sea serpents in it. Mostly.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted the bowl they handed you and stared down at the glowing, swirling contents. It looked like something out of a mad alchemist’s lab. But hey, you’d survived worse—like being kidnapped by Floyd. This was nothing.

Bracing yourself, you took a cautious sip.

It wasn’t… terrible. Actually, it was kind of delicious. Spicy, with an oddly sweet aftertaste that lingered in a pleasant way. You blinked in surprise, then took another spoonful.

“Well, damn,” you said, looking at the two eels with newfound respect. “This is actually good. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we could add this to the menu.”

Floyd pumped a fist into the air. “Yesss! Told ya we nailed it!”

Jade chuckled, looking pleased but less outwardly excited. “I’m glad it meets your standards.”

You grinned at them both. “I mean, if people don’t mind glowing food, we’re set. Let’s call it ‘Mystic Stew’ or something. I’ll work on the branding.”

After a few more rounds of tasting, tweaking, and banter, the day finally wound down. The café’s lanterns dimmed, casting the place in a soft, cozy glow, and you could hear the gentle hum of the ocean outside. Floyd and Jade headed out to “hunt for more ingredients”—which you suspected was code for causing chaos somewhere else—leaving you alone to close up with Azul.

You locked the doors, the quiet settling in as Azul finished counting the day’s earnings. He glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Another successful day.”

“Yup. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we’re actually doing well here,” you mused, walking over to him. The quiet moments like this were becoming your favorite—just the two of you, after the bustle of the day, with nothing but the serene ocean around you.

Azul chuckled, slipping his arms around your waist as you leaned into him. “You doubted our business?”

“Never doubted the business,” you teased. “But the Coral Sea? Yeah, I wasn’t sure about moving here. But now... I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his touch warm and familiar. “I’m glad. This place... it’s different from anything I could have imagined, but with you here, it feels like home.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I never thought a stupid order for a magic rock would lead to this, but here we are. You and me, running a café under the sea. Who knew?”

Azul chuckled, pulling you closer. “That magic rock was the start of everything, wasn’t it? ”

You looked up at him, feeling your chest tighten with affection. “Yeah, funny how life works. I thought I was signing up for a revenge plot, and instead, I got... well, you.”

Azul’s gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything—the journey, the chaos, the unplanned twists—hung in the air between you, warm and comforting.

“I love you, you know that?” you said, the words slipping out with ease now, no hesitation.

Azul smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And I love you. More than I thought possible.”

You tilted your head, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now. No refunds, no returns.”

He laughed, a rare, genuine sound that made your heart swell. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, you pulled him into a kiss, soft and lingering, with the ocean as your only witness. This—right here—was everything. The café, the Coral Sea, and Azul by your side. It might have started with a plot for petty revenge, but it had turned into something much deeper, much more real.

And as you stood there in his arms, the world felt right. You had found your place. Together.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay! Kalim and Leona are next! (Whichever I finish editing first) Who would y'all like to see after that?

[spicycinnabun]

“Steve, something is wrong with Christofern!” Eddie entered Steve’s room, cradling the potted plant in his arms.

He’d come home after work, ready to greet his bud-dy, but one look at him had made Eddie gasp. His leaves were shriveled up like sad little green raisins. Usually, they were puffed up like oversized Rice Krispies.

Christofern had been Robin’s, originally. It had been in a very sorry state on her windowsill before she’d left for college—a lot worse than it looked now, under Eddie’s care, thank you—and she’d told him, “I honestly can’t stand the thing. You keep it. It sheds worse than my aunt’s Great Pyrenees, and I’m tired of vacuuming. Just don’t throw it out, or Steve might murder you.”

And that had been that.

Christofern didn’t look like a typical house plant. He wasn’t a fern, which Steve kept reminding him. Steve was more practical. He didn’t give his plants names but called them by their designated labels.

Christofern was a Donkey’s Tail, or sedum morganianum, part of the succulent family. That term meant absolutely nothing to Eddie unless it was referring to a big bowl of pasta—he had no idea there was a whole plant category called delicious.

“But maybe he wants to be a fern, Steven,” he’d argued. “Ever thought of that? He doesn’t have to be a succulent just because he was assigned so at birth.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” had been Steve’s reply.

At first, Eddie had enlisted Steve’s help purely because he’d wanted his attention, and talking about plants was an easy as hell way to get Steve’s attention. Steve was a very passionate plant dad. But later, Eddie grew to love Christofern, and the trials and tribulations of learning how to care for him were almost like raising his own child.

Christofern had not just one but seven long, thickly spiked green tails. Seven tails. He reminded Eddie of a mutated dragon. He was adorable but occasionally grumpy and high-maintenance, like a certain someone Eddie knew. (Perhaps Christofern was more of a prince than a dragon—a dragon prince?)

If he didn’t get enough sunlight, his leaves shed, and he wilted. If he wasn’t rotated daily, he got yellow and sunburnt. And if he didn’t get enough water…

“I swear I watered him... uh, recently.” When had Eddie last watered him? Not the day before, but maybe Wednesday? Or had it been Tuesday? Shit. Eddie pouted. “I just gave him a drink now, anyway. It’s not too late, is it, Doctor Steve?”

He clasped his hands and watched Steve’s attentive eyes rove over his plant, waiting for the diagnosis.

“Eddie, how could you neglect Christofern like this? I should call Plant Protective Services.” Steve grabbed his hand, startling Eddie and his overactive heartbeat.

He took Eddie’s index finger and pushed it into Christofern’s soil right down to his second knuckle. It felt inappropriate. Eddie made a noise, appalled. “Steven, why are you making me violate Christofern?”

Steve ignored him. “What do you feel? The soil is soaked down there, isn’t it?”

Eddie wiggled his finger. It felt goopy. “Yes,” he admitted.

“You’ve overwatered it,” Steve chastised. “Now, the leaves might rot instead of rehydrating themselves. You’ve got to make sure you don’t drown it. Christofern only needs a moderate amount of water every two weeks, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie said meekly. “I’m sorry, Christofern.”

Steve pulled his finger out of the soil and gave him a look bordering on amusement. “Leave him with me for a few days, and I’ll get him back to where he should be.”

“Thank you, Doctor Steve. How can I ever repay you?” Eddie imagined repaying Steve with his mouth, his tongue, his hands (after he washed the soil off)…

“You can clean the bathroom,” Steve said.

Eddie’s fantasy shattered. He whined. “Does it have to be that?”

“Yup.”

“Damn it, Steve, just make me suck your dick next time,” Eddie grumbled on his way out.

He missed the way Steve’s jaw dropped.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some French Loans in Middle English

Loan Word - vocabulary borrowings

Borrow - to introduce a word (or some other linguistic feature) from one language or dialect into another

Administration authority, bailiff, baron, chamberlain, chancellor, constable, coroner, council, court, crown, duke, empire, exchequer, government, liberty, majesty, manor, mayor, messenger, minister, noble, palace, parliament, peasant, prince, realm, reign, revenue, royal, servant, sir, sovereign, squire, statute, tax, traitor, treason, treasurer, treaty, tyrant, vassal, warden

Law accuse, adultery, advocate, arrest, arson, assault, assize, attorney, bail, bar, blame, chattels, convict, crime, decree, depose, estate, evidence, executor, felon, fine, fraud, heir, indictment, inquest, jail, judge, jury, justice, larceny, legacy, libel, pardon, perjury, plaintiff, plea, prison, punishment, sue, summons, trespass, verdict, warrant

Religion abbey, anoint, baptism, cardinal, cathedral, chant, chaplain, charity, clergy, communion, confess, convent, creator, crucifix, divine, faith, friar, heresy, homily, immortality, incense, mercy, miracle, novice, ordain, parson, penance, prayer, prelate, priory, religion, repent, sacrament, sacrilege, saint, salvation, saviour, schism, sermon, solemn, temptation, theology, trinity, vicar, virgin, virtue

Military ambush, archer, army, barbican, battle, besiege, captain, combat, defend, enemy, garrison, guard, hauberk, lance, lieutenant, moat, navy, peace, portcullis, retreat, sergeant, siege, soldier, spy, vanquish

Food and drink appetite, bacon, beef, biscuit, clove, confection, cream, cruet, date, dinner, feast, fig, fruit, fry, grape, gravy, gruel, herb, jelly, lemon, lettuce, mackerel, mince, mustard, mutton, olive, orange, oyster, pigeon, plate, pork, poultry, raisin, repast, roast, salad, salmon, sardine, saucer, sausage, sole, spice, stew, sturgeon, sugar, supper, tart, taste, toast, treacle, tripe, veal, venison, vinegar

Fashion apparel, attire, boots, brooch, buckle, button, cape, chemise, cloak, collar, diamond, dress, embroidery, emerald, ermine, fashion, frock, fur, garment, garter, gown, jewel, lace, mitten, ornament, pearl, petticoat, pleat, robe, satin, taffeta, tassel, train, veil, wardrobe

part 1/2 ⚜ Source ⚜ Word Lists ⚜ Notes & References

[nightingale2004]

Severus Snape headcanon ideas

He has a journal that was gifted to him by his mother before he went to Hogwarts.

He writes everything in that journal. His thoughts, his feelings, ideas for potions, and spells, along with poetry. He even does little sketches in the journal (they're not half bad)

Ever since the marauders entered his life and his own house doesn't like him all that much, halfway through his first year at hogwarts, he casted a bunch of spells and runes on his journal so that way no one other than himself can open or see what is written inside the journal

The first page is titled "Property of the half-blood prince."

Severus never goes anywhere without it. He also casted a charm on it so that way whenever it's stolen or missing from his person, it will appear right next to him, in his bag, or in his hand

His journal also had dried plants and flowers from his journeys through the forbidden forest

The journal is very old and is held together by magic, pure determination, spite, and a dream (😂). Plus, he cherishes that journal

No one (I do mean NO ONE) has ever seen the inside of Severus's journal, including the marauders, his parents (his mother one time was granted access), his house mates, and even Lily

He once had an old walkman that he found in the streets and managed to fix it up from remembering, seeing how his father used to fix up machinery before the abuse

When he has a train compartment to himself, he immediately falls asleep (it's his only moment of peace!!!!!)

He secretly found the room of requirements that turns into a potions lab for him. He uses it for potion experiments

His experiments with potions have both literally and figuratively blown up in his face.

Would talk with the paintings of Hogwarts

Would find jewelry in the most random places and often wear some of them after he resizes them and cleans them

He loves dark and milk chocolate, along with raisins, and vanilla

Learned occlumency and legilimens very early in his Hogwarts years and has used it on more than one occasion

When he was a child, he couldn't dance to save his life, but McGonagall taught him everything she knew

He and McGonagall play wizards chess together

Before the bullying started, he secretly wanted to be James and Sirius's friend, but after they insulted his mother's house, that thought immediately vanished

Despite being very skinny, he throws an incredibly strong punch

If he did have an animagus form, it would either be a raven, crow, cat, or bat

He would brew health potions for the sick people in Cokeworth or those who couldn't afford decent medicine or medical attention. He became their young doctor and gets paid a bit on the side

Has done a lot of odd jobs in Cokeworth to help keep his home afloat

Whenever Tobias would kick him out, he would originally crash at the Evans home, but ever since the 'Mudblood' incident, he started crashing at some of the people he helped at Cokeworth's homes

He would wish he was born into the Evans family instead of the Snape family

Loves art and poetry

Has read chemistry books at the Muggle Library

He learned how to cook and bake when he was a kid

After the 'Prank' incident, he and Remus talked and have kinda sorta made amends, but there is still a wall (and rightfully so)

He loves science fiction, dark romance, romance, adventure, tragedy, poetry, fiction, horror, Gothic literature, action, and mystery, both films and books (mostly books)

Secretly loves the story of Hades and Persephone.

Will make Blancmange every Christmas at Hogwarts (hphm made this canon)

He has tried to deny rumors about him being in love with Lily and him being a vampire or a bat, but it came to a point where he was done and didn't care

His scent would be herbs, flowers, old books, and rain

[readyforthegarden]

When the Nightingale Sings - Part Two

Pairing: Danny Wagner x F!Reader

Synopsis: Medieval AU! In a world where noble alliances dictate futures, you have been betrothed to Prince Emers, a man you barely know and certainly don't love. As you travel towards the royal palace for your impending wedding, your journey is upended, causing you to run straight into a kind, lonesome hunter. With no choice but to trust him, you embark on a journey together towards the nearest village, navigating through the forest and it's perils. As the solace you find in his companionship builds will you choose to honor your duty, or will you abandon everything you've ever know to follow your heart?

WC: 3424

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, anxiety, funeral/burial

A/N: A big thank you to @earthlysorrows for beta-reading and editing and helping me along the way!

For the first time in a very long time, sleep did not find Danny easily. The hammock was comfortable enough, and the fur blanket was keeping him warm. It was the noises you made, shuffling around in his bed. Soft sighs and whimpers, undoubtedly reliving your terror from this morning, twitching in the sheets. Danny found his eyes on you most of the night, closing them to a squint when you sat up a few times, panting for breath and clutching your chest. He’d wait until you settled down again, and watch you until your breathing became even again. 

Danny wagered he got only a few hours of sleep, no more than you did, when the sun finally started to rise. The call of the rooster outside his cottage made him realize he couldn’t stay in the hammock any longer. Danny gently rolled out of the cloth, landing on the floor with a soft thud. Watching you, he waited for you to wake, however you were finally out, face buried deep into his pillow. He smiled at the slight snore rumbling from you, glad you were getting rest. 

He puttered around the cottage, doing his usual morning activities, cleaning the kettle out and putting a new one on the hook, pouring in the grains and milk to make a hearty porridge. As it bubbled and cooked, he cut up two of his last few apples into small chunks and tossed them in with some raisins, trying to sweeten the meal. He found his morning tasks around his home more difficult, trying to keep quiet. Danny would freeze when he clattered his knives onto the table, or the chair scraped against the wood of the floor too much. Even the door hinges squeaking sounded like shrieks from banshees in the quiet.  

One of the last times he looked at you, he realized you were still in your day clothes. He had also slept in his day clothes, his usual pajamas of, well, nothing, inappropriate for the present company. However, his usual ensemble did not consist of a boned corset. Going to his hutch, he rifled through it quietly. His sister had left some clothes behind when she married, the outfits not fit for the city life she was moving to. He had kept them, in case of a visit, however no such occasion had arisen. Finding the items he was looking for, he laid them on the table, continuing his chores. 

You woke as he was pulling on his hat and coat again, ready to do his morning rounds on the traps. You sat up, wiping your mouth and eyes, blinking as you remembered your surroundings. 

“Good morning,” Danny greeted you. Replying back, you shifted to the edge of the bed, letting your feet touch the floor as you woke up. “There’s porridge on the fire, when you’re ready to eat. And there’s water in the other, heating up. You’re welcome to use it to bathe, the bath is behind that partition there.” he nodded behind him, and for the first time, you saw in the daylight a dark, tall partition between the fireplace and small kitchen counter along the far wall. Seeing the hesitancy in your eyes, Danny cleared his throat. “I will be gone for a few hours. I’ll be checking my traps. I’m going to try and find your horses as well.”

“What if…” you felt silly, suddenly feeling like this stranger was your protector. But he had protected you, from his animal trap, from the cold. 

“Lock this door behind me. I will knock like this,” he rapped his knuckles on the door frame in a rhythmic fashion. He looked back at you, eyes serious. “And if anything does happen, scream as loud as you can. I will come and find you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“I found some clothes for you, too.” he pointed to the table. “They were my sisters. I figured if you took a bath, you may not want to wear your dirty clothes.” you nodded, thanking him again. After an awkward silence, Danny cleared his throat again, and moved to the door.

“Daniel,” you called out. He paused, glancing back at you. “Danny, please be careful.”

“I will be. I’ll return in a few hours.” he promised, and with that, was out the door. Moving quickly, you locked the door behind him. The feeling of the iron clanking together made you feel more secure, and you rested your back against the wood. Glancing around the house, you tried to decide what to do: eat or bathe. After a few moments of debate, the bath won out. Taking a handful of rags, you lifted the kettle, almost bowing in half from the weight of the hot water, and side-stepped it to the bathtub, using all your might to lift it to the edge and dump it in. 

The steam was delicious as it rose up around your face in the cool morning air. You struggled for a bit to undo your own corset, but finally succeeded in getting it off, stripping down and stepping into the water. 

It was hot, almost too hot for you, however you sank slowly into it, feeling the warmth seep through your skin and muscles, and into your bones. It was like magic, your stiff body relaxing, going limp in the steaming water. Danny’s bathtub was almost larger than the one at your family's manor, though it would have to be to fit such a large man. The water gathered up to your collarbones as you sank down, dipping your head back to dampen your hair. Danny, ever the forward thinker as you were learning, had left a small rag for you by the tub, a small piece of soap sitting atop it.

 It was a far cry from the baths you’d had all your life. Those were attended, handmaids making sure you were scrubbed properly, dropping scented oils into your water, refreshing it to make sure you didn’t catch cold. Always being prepared in case a suitor would come calling since you were eligible for marriage. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d been able to have a bath to yourself, and decided to relish in the quiet of the cottage. The birds chirping, chickens clucking outside the windows. You focused on the sounds, catching a breeze rustling through the trees surrounding the cottage as the fireplace crackled and popped.

After your bath, you dressed in the clothes Danny has left, his sister's old things. They were slightly small on you, tight in the shoulders only when you tried to reach up over your head, although the bodice that you struggled to tie in the back yourself, hugged your waist more comfortably than your previous corset. You let your hands slide down the material, the dark green skirt a little short on you but would do. For simple, peasant clothes, they were suitable. 

Your stomach growled, and you remembered the porridge, hastily grabbing a bowl and scooping some in, before settling at the table. 

Danny blew hot air into his hands, holding them close to his mouth. Winter was threatening to come early, it seemed, from the chill in the air. He could feel the chill of his lips through his old, worn gloves. He would have to get new ones soon, and dreaded how many pelts he would need to collect for a pair of good leather ones. His traps this morning only held small game. A raccoon, and two rabbits. Enough for him to make it another week by himself before he would have to dip into some of his scarce winter rations. 

As he tied the game up and slung it over his shoulder, he paused, realizing that he was now to feed you as well. He wondered how you were doing, suddenly, if you were okay alone in the cottage. If he had left enough porridge for you to eat. It had been so long since he had had company of any kind, he realized he didn’t have anything for you to do. 

Shaking his head, he continued on. You were a lady, someone above his station. You were probably used to doing nothing, not having to fight for survival or wonder where your meals would come from. You probably were already back in bed, sleeping the day away like you would in whatever manor you grew up in. 

Guilt formed a hard knot in his stomach, the jealousy he had let loose in his mind fading. It wasn’t your fault you were born into wealth, and him into a life of just hovering above destitution. You had been kind to him, didn’t look down at him for his humble home. You had in fact received it and him gratefully. 

After checking the rest of his traps, finding them empty, he trudged on, heading towards the road where your carriage may be. It took an hour and a half for him to meet the road, stepping onto the dirt path. If you had been heading toward Farrynden’s court, you would have been heading northeast. He followed the beaten path that way a few hundred steps, coming upon a dirty, small scrap of cloth. Leaning down, he noticed it was a silk of some sort, and stood up, carrying on. It wasn’t long before the scene you ran from met his eyes. Your carriage stood still, the horses nowhere to be seen. 

Danny stepped closer, his breath catching in his throat at the scent of copper and death, coming across the bodies of your traveling companions. They are still splayed in the road, spilled blood browned and mixed with the earth below them. A blonde woman, he could only assume was Marta, stared up at him with cold, terrified eyes. Crouching next to her, Danny held his breath as he reached out, closing her eyes, saying a silent prayer. One final act of kindness he could offer her in the moment. 

Glancing around, he saw trunks on the side of the road, their contents strewn about. The bandits must have given up on finding you and decided to ransack your belongings. Linen and silks were torn and ripped apart, seams split as if they were looking for hidden treasure sewn into hems. Danny fought a blush to his cool cheeks as he searched around and spied a frilly, silky negligee among the items, no doubt for your intended wedding night. 

Clearing his throat, he rifled through some of the things laying around, trying to find anything salvageable. A few ribbons he picked up and set them in his pocket. He checked over the larger trunk, dirt and mud seeming to have been poured into it after the bastards couldn’t find anything of use, or took anything they could. 

As he moved the lid to the trunk to close it, a rattling sound graced his ears. His brows knit in the middle and he shook it gently. The rattling was metallic, and Danny laughed out loud. The robbers in their haste must not have heard it, nor spied the small bulge from the tufted top of the trunk. 

Taking one of his knives, Danny cut open the fabric and reached in, finding a small velvet pouch. Holding it in his hands, he squeezed it gently. He couldn’t tell exactly what the contents were, it didn’t feel like coin, but he couldn’t be sure. Perhaps they had wrapped it in a kerchief to disguise it from curious minds like his. 

Danny bit back at his own nosiness and instead tucked the pouch safely into his pockets, picking up his catches for the day and turning to head back to his home. A shovel, he reminded himself. Tomorrow he would venture back and bring a shovel, and give your companions the dignity of graves. 

The rhythmic knock Danny demonstrated for you earlier vibrated through the wood of the cottage. Standing from your seat at the table, you bolted to the door, undoing the iron lock and opening it slowly. Danny smiled at you as you stepped back, letting him inside. 

“It’s near-frigid out there.” He told you, sniffling and dropping the wild game on the table. 

“I kept the fire going,” you replied, knowing it wasn’t much. Danny nodded, peering over at the small flames. You must have ventured outside at least once to get a few split logs off the pile on the side of his home. 

“Thank you.” he smiled warmly at you. He moved to take off his gloves, hat and coat, hanging them by the door. Reaching into his coat pocket, he picked the velvet pouch, holding it in his hand. “The horses were long gone from your carriage, no doubt the thieves took them as a quick getaway once they couldn’t locate you.”

“That figures.” you sighed, hoping the men treated the horses with more dignity than they did you and your companions. 

“It looked as if they ransacked the carriage and your belongings. A lot of it was destroyed.” Danny watched you nod sadly, “but I did find this.” Danny presented the pouch to you, and you stared at it, puzzled. “It was hidden in the top of one of your trunks, in the fabric.” 

Your delicate fingers reached out, sliding across the velvet before grasping it. Opening the mouth of the pouch, you curiously peeked in before dumping the contents into your open palm. Jewelry laid in your hand, pearls, to be exact. Danny had never seen anything as fine and intricate. Earrings and a brooch, a necklace too. 

“There were my grandmothers.” you said, surprise still lacing your voice. “My mother must’ve stashed them away for the wedding.”

“They’re beautiful,” Danny couldn’t hold back the awe in his voice. The two of you stared a bit longer, before you plucked the brooch and held it out to him. 

“Take it,” you insisted, causing him to go wide-eyed. 

“I couldn’t,” Danny shook his head, putting a hand up in front of him. You pushed it closer to his palm. 

“Please, as payment for your help, and shelter.” your eyes were pleading, begging him to take the jewelry you offered. Danny started at it. If he broke apart the pearls, he could make them stretch, and buy enough rations at the village market for at least a few months, maybe more. Slowly, his large hand encircled it, taking it from you. “You can have the rest too, if you like.”

“Then what would you wear to marry the prince?” Danny joked, closing your fist around the earrings and necklace. 

“I’m sure there are things prepared for the day.” you murmured softly, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. Danny pocketed the brooch, not pressing regarding the forlorn look on your face. Most young ladies would be falling over themselves to marry a prince. The wealth and title and everything that came with it, it was a dream come true. But for you, it seemed like a nightmare. 

“Could you help me prepare supper?” Danny asked, changing the subject as you troubled your bottom lip between your teeth. Your sidelong glance at the rabbits and raccoon on the table made Danny laugh. “I’ll take care of those, but could you cut up some of those parsnips, and potatoes?” 

“Oh, yes, of course.” never mind you’d only lifted a knife to cut through already cooked food, you followed his instruction, using a solid wood slab on the counter as a chopping block. Danny took the game outside, preparing it away from your eyes. After what he saw at the carriage, he didn’t want you to see anything further. 

You were done chopping the vegetables when he came back in, a skinned rabbit in his hand. You avoided looking at it, and let him have the counter space, adding your vegetables to an empty kettle. The two of you shuffled around quietly, making supper in the mid-afternoon sun that flitted in through the windows. It was comfortable, the quiet in which the two of you worked. Danny found himself enjoying the sound of your footsteps as you brought in a new pail of water to add to the kettle, small grunts of effort falling from your lips. 

“I’m going back to the road tomorrow,” Danny mentioned, after eating a spoonful of stew later that night. You glanced up at him, setting your own spoon back into your bowl. “I’m going to dig and give them as proper a burial as I can.” you were silent for a few moments. 

“I would like to go with you.” Danny thought back to the scene he’d come across earlier, the grimace forming on his face. 

“I don’t think-“

“Marta was my friend.” your voice was hard, a small fire blazing behind your eyes. “And the coachmen had been with my family most of my life. I would like to say a final goodbye and prayer for them.” Danny could feel the conviction in your heart, and nodded. 

“Aye, so you will.” he nodded. “I’ll come back after checking my traps in the morning and we’ll go together.”

The mud was thick after a night full of rain, but Danny persevered, using all his strength to move the heavy dirt just inside the forest off the road. A light mist was still prevailing, making Danny’s coat and hat too heavy to properly dig in. They were discarded under a nearby tree, his white, billowy shirt becoming translucent, sticking to his skin. You had wandered off, collecting the wildflowers to set on the finished graves. The bright yellows and blues, a soft lavender hue and white petals in your hands offering a small, cheerful hue to the dreary day. 

“Stay back there,” Danny called, his voice racked with deep breaths as you approached. “I’m going to move the bodies. I don’t want you to see them,” you replied, turning your back on him. You heard him moving, your ears picking up every sound around you as you tried to focus on anything else. You fought the tears in your eyes, letting them sting and prick at your eyes as you heard the soft thuds, bodies being laid to rest. Turning your head slightly, Danny called out again. “Not yet, I will let you know.”

More time passed, you leaned against the trunk of a tree, busying yourself with the small bouquets, arranging them over and over again. A touch to your shoulder made you jump, and you turned to see Danny, face solemn as he nodded. You weren’t able to tell if it was the mist or sweat on his face, but he was glistening, and you noticed how his shirt clung to his arms and torso, soaked through. A blush crept up on your cheeks as he gestured for you to turn to the graves, pushing away the thoughts that crept in your mind. This was not the time nor place.

Three identical mounds of dirt were in front of you. Your stomach clenched, a sick feeling swirling in it as you looked at each one. Danny kept a hand on your shoulder, a comforting grounding presence. 

“Marta is in the middle,” he told you, his voice soft. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, a trembling hand reaching out, placing a bouquet on the two outer graves, pausing and saying a prayer for each man. Moving to the middle, a sob wracked your body. You hadn’t realized just how much you cared for the young girl until she was gone, too late for you to say it to her. 

Danny watched you, the shaking of your body as you clasped a hand over your mouth, whispered goodbyes to your friend. The flowers remaining in your hand fell at your feet, both hands covering your face. Stepping as quietly as he could, Danny knelt down, scooping up the flowers gently. The blisters on his hand from the digging screamed in pain as he clenched his fist gently around the stems, but he stood up, placing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. 

It didn’t matter he was still a perfect stranger to you, comfort was needed. And Danny’s strong arm felt safe, felt warm, despite the chill of the rain. After a few moments, Danny moved and you turned, watching him balance. He kept an arm around you, leaning forward and placing the flowers in his hand on Marta’s grave. 

“Eternal rest grant unto them, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls rest in peace.” Danny’s voice was quiet, the prayer floating on the silence in the woods, and you echoed it in your mind, hoping the souls of the departed in front of you were safe and warm, wherever they were.

Taglist: (feel free to add yourself!)

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@allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet@gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @infinisonicosm @indigofallingsky @hellowgoodbye @hearts-hunger @fwzco @dharma-divine33 @lightsofthe-living-gvf @ascendingtothestarsasone @klarxtr

@musicspeaks @mindastreamofcolours @imleavingyoufornewyork @dammm1256 @jordie-gvf @demonrat444 @misshunnybee @valleydollgvf @brookes-so-done @age0fwagner @starcatcherxstevie @amethystars @jakesguitarsolo @lolidontknowwhat @lyndz2names @godly-sinsx @dannythedog @anthemheatwave @samomf @spark-my-nature @scorpiosunsammy @theindigostre4k @jjwasneverhere @couldbefalling @peaceloveunitygvf @wrldabomination @gretavfreaky @kakejiszkas @brujamagik @miradoralbumwhen

@mar-rein12 @laurynnnn125 @maddie-rae @eraofstardustchords @musicislove3389

[mintaikk]

Human Names for Cookie Run Characters: Vanilla Kingdom

Inspired by this post. I love the name sm. Fav is Cream Soda's (Chiriko S. Chisaka) bcuz it fits her so well.

The Vanilla Kingdom was inspired by Germany, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia, so their names will take inspo from that. But, it won't be strictly based on that bcuz it's a very diverse kingdom. Also, some of this is headcanon since I like assigning Cookies to towns and kingdoms, lol. Not put there randomly, I have my reasons for putting them where they are.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: Pehr Väinö

White Lily Cookie: Whina L. (as in Lily) Fehér

Custard Cookie iii: Custe Prince iii

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Strahan B. (Berry) Creap

Black Raisin Cookie: Balika Raakin

Adventurer Cookie: Advar Tur

Blackberry Cookie: Blakelyn "Blake" Bairie

Fig Cookie: Frigga Forrest

[starksbabie]

The Ink That Binds Us - Chapter 5

Prev | Next

Summary: In the weeks following your heat Roy has been keeping Gator extra busy, so you're missing your Alpha. Gator takes it upon himself to make sure you know he'd do anything for you, give you anything you want because you are his.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmates AU, A/B/O, smut, 18+ mdni, soulmates have matching tattoos, Gator Tillman (he’s his own warning). p in v, creampie, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, reader takes a pregnancy test, use of pet names.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: It's here! Sorry for the delay I have been wrapped up in a Prince Steve AU so be on the lookout for that coming soon!

Once again, you woke up alone in your nest. It has been two weeks since your heat, and you’ve barely seen your new mate. 

Gator slinks out of bed before dawn, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder before he goes, and does not return until long after dark if he returns at all. 

Sometimes he’s been opting to stay at his father’s ranch since most of his belongings still reside there, and it leaves him closer to be at Roy’s beck and call. 

You climb out of bed to begin your day, heading to the kitchen and wondering if Gator even made it home last night. 

Blossom 🌸 8:02 am: I miss you. The nest is beginning to smell wrong. Like you’re missing. 

His reply comes just a few minutes later. 

Gator 🐊 8:09 am: Dad’s got a lot going on so I have to be in charge for a while. I’ll be home for dinner tonight. I promise. 

You smile and bounce on the balls of your feet looking around the kitchen, you’re going to make the best dinner you can, your alpha’s been working hard. He deserves this. 

Gator pulls into the drive long after dark. He’s absolutely, overwhelmingly, exhausted, but he’s surprised to see lights still on in the house. Usually, you’ve been asleep for hours by this point. That’s when he remembers. He promised to be home for dinner. 

“Shit.” He curses under his breath. 

He hops out of the truck and quickly walks up the path, jumping the stairs before letting himself in. 

What he finds there nearly breaks his heart. 

You’re lying on the couch, wearing his favorite dress, it’s obvious you fell asleep waiting on him. 

And he can smell fresh-baked oatmeal-raisin cookies, and steak and potatoes. He knows you must have worked hard all day for him and he couldn’t even show up when he said he would. 

‘Deserves better’ his alpha snaps from the back of his mind. 

He pushes that down, walks over to the couch kneels, and softly runs his hand over your hair. 

“Blossom, wake up, baby.” He mumbles, gently shaking you. 

“Hmm?” You groan softly, waking up. 

You blink up at him, your eyes half-lidded and tired. 

“You’re home,” you smile sleepily, “I missed you.” 

You sit up and wrap your arms around his neck pulling him close. He buries his face in your neck as he climbs up onto the couch with you, lying down on top of you, inhaling your scent. 

“Missed you too, Omega. M’sorry, I’m late.” 

You gently run your fingers through his hair, softening the slicked-back locks into the soft tendrils you love. 

“S’okay-“ you begin.

“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. Fuck…” he groans softly, arguing with his Alpha. 

You hold him for a long moment. Letting him gently crush you into the couch cushions. 

“I’ve been a shit Alpha. You deserve someone who takes care of you. Who takes you out on dates? Who is good to you? Not me… not this fuck up.” He mumbles into your neck. 

“Gator, look at me.” You say softly. 

He refuses, sinking further into your scent and his self-doubt. 

You sink your fingers into his hair and gently tug at the roots. 

“Gator Tillman. Look at me.” You say, using the sternest tone he’s ever heard from you. 

He raises his head and looks at you, a little perplexed by that tone. 

“You are not a shit Alpha, and I never want to hear those words ever again. You’re my Alpha. Mine. I don’t care about going out on dates, and you’re very good to me.” You say, looking directly into his eyes, refusing to be the one to look away first. 

He leans in and rests his forehead against yours, basking in your words, for a moment. 

“But what about-“ 

“Gator, I swear,” you say, effectively cutting him off. 

He lets out a soft little laugh. 

“Don’t go turning into a brat now.” He says softly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. 

“Then don’t act like a knothead.” You mumble softly, spreading your legs so he can slot between them. 

The two of you fit together like puzzle pieces, completing one another as he presses his lips against yours in a slow, gentle drag, his chapped lips against your pillow-soft ones. 

You pull away and press a small, soft kiss on his head. 

“My Alpha, perfect for me.” You whisper against his skin. 

He wraps his arms around you and buries his face back into the crook of your neck, softly kissing your mating mark as he falls asleep. 

You hold him close and close your eyes as well, letting yourself relax and be lulled into sleep. Comforted by your Alpha. 

You wake up the next morning and groan softly, stiff from having slept on the couch but feeling more at peace and well-rested than you have in days. 

You softly card your fingers through Gator’s soft hair, relishing the sleepy sounds he makes as he wakes up. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You whisper. 

“Mornin’ Blossom.” He mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. 

You smile, you relish this, this softness, that no one else gets to be privy to. Something that is only between the two of you. 

“You want me to make ya some breakfast before your shift?” You ask, as you softly run your hand up and down his spine, unable to keep your hands off him. 

He relaxes into you a little more. 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all, handsome. C’mon. Get up. You get ready, and I’ll fix you something to eat.” You kiss his cheek before dropping your arms from around him. 

He rolls off the couch, less than gracefully, before popping up and helping you stand. 

He drops a kiss to the top of your head, before heading off to the shower. 

You step into the kitchen and begin to fix him some breakfast. 

Eggs, toast, bacon. Doing your very best to have it all finished at the same time. 

Gator steps into the kitchen, hair slicked back, holster around his thigh, and the rest of his gear situated just right.

You both sit to eat, and you watch as he devours his food, as always. Light conversation about plans for the day. 

As per usual, Gator can’t tell you much about anything. You try to not let it bother you. Even though it does. 

You hold onto his vest as he kisses you hard before he leaves. His tongue slid alongside yours, his hands squeezing your hips, pulling you flush against him, making sure you’ll think about nothing but him all day long. 

After your shift at the diner, you stop at the pharmacy to pick up a few things. You walk past the pads and tampons and pause. You do the mental math and your eyes go a little wide. 

Your hand instinctually rests on your lower belly. 

“Oh my god…” you bite your lip and glance at the tests next to you. You grab one and toss it in your basket before you can think too hard about it. 

Once you get home, you sit in the bathroom on top of the closed toilet lid and stare at the package. 

“This is silly… it was one heat. There’s no way…” you toss the test into the drawer and head back into the living room to watch some mindless television. 

However, it’s like the test is mocking you from the other room. 

Soon you find yourself back in the bathroom, the foil ripped open, and you take the test. You sit on the floor with the test on the edge of the tub as you wait for the results. 

Your hand once again goes to rest on your lower belly. 

“You’re going to be so loved…” you smile softly. 

A few minutes later you lift the test and it’s like a rock develops where your heart should be.  

Only one line. 

Negative.

“Oh.” 

You suddenly feel so silly and stupid for your behavior. You quickly toss everything in the trash bin as your eyes well with tears. 

You’re not even sure why you’re so upset. It’s not even something you were really thinking about, but now that it’s not happening you’re crushed. 

You move to the bedroom and crawl into your next hiding yourself under your blankets as the tears begin to fall. ‘Bad Omega, failure.’ Your omega whispers in the back of your mind. That’s where Gator finds you. 

He’d come home expecting to find you in the kitchen making dinner, or at least in the living room watching something on the TV. When he doesn’t see you he begins looking around calling out for you, becoming a little more panicked when you don’t respond. 

When he finally finds you buried in your nest he’s concerned. 

“Blossom? What’s wrong, Omega?” He sits next to you softly cupping your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

You turn your head away from him hiding yourself from his gaze. 

“Don’t. Look at me,” He says, “Omega, what is going on? Talk to me.” 

“It’s s-stupid.” You mumble into the sheets

“It’s not stupid if it’s made you this upset. C’mon little one. Tell me what’s wrong.” He says, lifting your chin so he can look at you. 

You pause for a long moment looking up at him, thinking about how you want to tell him.

“I took a pregnancy test.” You finally say. The words slipping out easier than you thought they would. 

His face lights up, and that joy you see on his face, it kills you. It makes you feel even worse because you know what you have to say next, but he interrupts you before you can get the words out. 

“Omega mine. Why would you be upset about that? A baby is amazing.” He smiles and he moves to put his hand on your belly but you know if he touches you there you’ll scream. 

“It was negative.” you choke out.

“Oh…” he pauses and lays down pulling you close, letting you rest your head on his chest. 

You hold onto him nuzzling your face into his scent gland, calming yourself. 

“I didn’t know you wanted a baby so badly.” He whispers. 

“Neither did I.” You say, your lips softly brushing against his skin. 

He tries to contain the shiver that runs through him at the feeling of your lips on him. 

“But I do,” you whisper, “please Alpha?” 

He groans and rolls over on top of you pinning you to the mattress. 

“You’re killing me, Omega,” He softly rolls his hips against yours as he kisses you, “I’ll give you a pup. Fuck one into this cute belly of yours. Make you a mommy.”

He takes his time, slowly peeling away each layer of clothing. Pressing kisses to every inch of newly revealed skin. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I’m the luckiest Alpha alive.” He growls as he slips your panties off, and situates himself between your thighs, inhaling deeply. 

You blush at his actions, lying back in your nest. 

“Fuck, you smell so sweet for me. M’gonna get you nice and wet. So ready to take my cock, okay?” He slowly trails kisses up your inner thigh before burying his face in your cunt, tracing his tongue up and down your slit as his large hands hook under your thighs and settle on your hips. 

You gasp softly and close your eyes, settling more into the feelings. The softness of your nest, the roughness of Gator’s hands on your hips, the soft wet sounds of his tongue between your thighs, and the pleasure he brings you. 

He begins to softly suck on your clit as you begin to get wetter, he moans and the vibrations cause you to arch your back. 

“Good girl, Blossom. That’s right. Grind on my tongue, sweet girl.” He moans again. 

You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out his name, the flames of pleasure licking up your spine. 

He slips two fingers into your entrance, your wetness making it easy, as he curls them and massages the soft spongy spot he knows drives you insane. 

You dig your heels into his back trying to scramble away from him as you reach that precipice. Your Alpha only holds you tighter refusing to let you run from your own pleasure. 

You scream out his name as you come apart on his tongue. 

He laps up your essence before pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand smirking. 

“Fuckin’ delicious, Omega.” 

You blush and hide your face in the crook of your elbow. 

He grabs your hand and uncovers your face smirking down at you. 

“Hey there pretty girl.” 

“Hi.” You smile softly looking up at him. 

He holds your hands down on either side of your head and kisses you softly as you wrap your legs around his hips, the head of his cock nudging gently against your clit once, twice, before he presses into you. 

He groans softly against your lips, “holy shit, Omega… how are you always so fuckin’ tight?” 

He gives you a moment to adjust before he begins slowly rolling his hips against yours. Each thrust was measured, slow and deep. 

“Feels so good, Alpha. Always feels so good.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him, clinging to him. 

He presses his forehead to yours, taking his time as the pace of his thrusts speeds up, still just as deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time he presses into the hilt. 

“You feel like heaven, my love. I’m gonna give you a baby sweet Omega. Gonna give you everything you want. I promise.” He kisses you deeply as he gets closer, picking up speed as he gets closer.  

You gasp softly at his words, “I’m close Alpha, please.” 

“I know, Omega. I can feel you squeezing me. I’m almost there. Gonna fill you up. Gonna give you all of me. Fuck… wait for me, baby.” He growls softly. 

He holds you close and kisses you deeply the curly hairs at the base of his cock stimulating your clit in just the right way as he grinds his hips into yours. 

He thrusts a couple more times as he cums deep inside you, his thick spend painting your inner walls as you gasp and come hard around him. 

“That’s right, Omega. Doing so good for me. Taking me so well. Love you so much.” He holds you close as you both come down from your euphoria. 

“Love you too, Alpha. Thank you… thank you.” 

You press soft kisses everywhere you can reach, keeping your legs up and wrapped around him. 

He presses his hand down on your lower belly.

“This is where my pups will grow. Just give it time, Omega mine. Just give it time.”

Prev | Next

[ethereal-maia]

tagged by @musicals-and-mushrooms: 9 people you want to get to know better!!

tysm for the tag btw!!

3 Ships: drawenna, danya, vanja x emeric (can you tell I have a ship type. It’s pretty obvious.)

1st ship: like my first ship ever? one that wasn’t stupid obvious like Prince Philip and Aurora (bc that was one of them hehee) was probably when I was like 11 and OBSESSED with poldark was probably drawenna again lmao. OH WAIT. OH FUCK IT WAS PROBABLY HARMIONE AAA 😭😭

Last song: The Opera from great comet

Last movie: Descendants unfortunately

Currently reading: The Horse and His Boy by C S Lewis, Gilded by Marissa Meyer, The Wicked Ones by Robin Benway (reread), Lost in the Never Woods by Aiden Thomas (reread), Circe by Madeleine Miller (reread), aaaaand Flip the Script by Lila Lee (reread).

Currently watching: glee, awae (all the time bitch. All the time.), an animated The Little Princess movie I started as a joke but got too invested in once Minchin started singing about how money is her “Passion, it’s my HEro, it’s my kING! There’s nothing that I love more than sacks of Coins that JING!!”. Also finishing up rah cinderella 1965.

Currently eating: the dead skin off my lips. But earlier i had enchiladas for dinner and OUGH they were so good.

Currently craving: Raisin’ Canes!!!!! Oh my god all day long!!

npt: @bloody-mf-bsc @pealeii @morozovamaximoff @bookns @lighttupthiswholetown @swiftie-as-a-coursing-river @bicharliespring @recklessandyoung @mesmerizedmadeline ⭐️💛⭐️

[celestialdragoncookie]

I made a typo on your new page earlier, and I'm very very sorry, just place 'ours' with a Y alr?

But anyways, here's more ideas! Cuz I love the story :3

So since Dark Choco and Dark Shadow we're sent to the deepest part of the dungeon, I like to think that, Y/N would try to save them once she revived the clan, or maybe try to warm or make sure that they we're alright, but sneaking in and giving foods or supply for them, and since she was immortal cuz she can reborn themselves/herself from the ashes, and I think they/the three brothers don't have to worry Abt her being like gone or die, BUT if her ashes was like... Just separated or flew into the air or something like that, it's a sign that she can... Never be alive or reborn again cuz her ashes.... We're spread into the air unknown redirection or something like that.

And maybe some Phoenix would try to help if she revived them and told the 2 prince sacrifice and stuff what happened, and she's just worried Abt them... And maybe has a teeny tiny crush on... Dark Choco cookie, cuz he seem to truly care Abt her and respect her will and stuff like that, which makes Y/N I bit comfortable with him and likes him like that and maybe will confess if she got them out from the 3 psycho (/ brothers)

But as usual you can choose from whatever you like, but also, you can choose if he accepted her confession or not :3, or whatever you want <D

" From Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust" Yandere Three brothers x Hybrid Phoenix Reader:

From that gaining freedom, all that sacrifice was drained into imprisonment as the two rebellion princes were sent to " Dark Void" a dungeon known for keeping the worst of worst criminals in check and monitored. The security was were much tighter and prisoner guards are active all the time and very much experienced in this field so escaping is very much impossible, not in centuries have a single prisoner had ever escaped not one if so they will have to suffer under extreme torture as warden himself and the guards are sadistic bastards love to play to thier hearts content.

In the darkened prison full of raisin rats, as the once proud respectful princes were reduced to mere pitiful state chained to the broken old cold stone wall, the treatment was no different then prisoners but it was worst as they to endured the continue harassment and bullying of the prisoners including the guards, drunken warden in stress and tired would lash out his rage in torturing them. Their dough is full of marks of abuse and torture, they would vomit as the food and water laced with deadly poisen barely survive. Spending an entire week in that hell seems like a horrible nightmare for them as the cycle continue to spin mocking thier resolve and resistance as a mere wastage of time. One fateful day, passing the same routine suddenly flap of wings could be heard as beautiful glowing fiery feather falls through the broken window illuminated the dungeon, with painful groans he looked up only to see you dressed in cloak to cover yourself up , in your hands is basket full of delicious fruits, snacks and bottles of milk. You gave a shuss action looking around signing in relief and jumped from the window with a silent thud, dusting yourself off looks at the poor state of the two princes your shocked because how could thier father's do something like so horrible especially thier own sons..... Even beasts wouldn't kill thier children. In thier eyes, they are just disposable tools just pawns so they can get what they want how cruel, clutching your fists so hard wiping your tears off before feeding the two hungry princes. During this time it had became a daily routine for you to visit them, patching and cleaning thier wounds feeding them. Unknown to you, your fiery temper, warmth and kindness has reached the cold lonely heart of dark Choco Cookie who would brightened up seeing your smile especially kindness and would always look forward to see your appearance this was notice by Dark shadow milk cookie, looking at his expression he would lightly smile knowing that his innocence dense cousin has finally someone to care and protect.

Meanwhile in the office, as angry roar and trashing of things could be heard as numerous paperworks, important files , pens and documents were flying away as sudden pissed dragon throwing things in hate especially impatient. He angrily growls turning his face towards the shivering guard asked with a pissed off tone " Where is she? Have you find her whereabouts yet?" The shivering relactant whither to tell him the truth or not but his silence was seen as ignoring him which pissed him off again in sheer rage he extended his claw ready to slash as the frightened braced for incoming attack but opened it only to see the king himself dark cacao cookie took the hit instead as the strawberry jam falls on the ground as stunned dark cacao cookie glared at his brother he replied with a colder firm tone " Brother I know your angry but don't force it out Infront of my people got it?". His tone got him surprised he thought the sheer audacity of him he growls slamming the door shut as dark cacao cookie dismissed the frightened guard. He cleans the wounds from his face looks around the trashed office, his purple eyes falls on the picture emblem on the table grabbed it he gently rubbed his finger on the fragile frame of it as his eyes softened with a glint of regret, self loathing especially longing. He stutter every words, mumbling as tears fall freely from his eyes twinkling the broken frame he falls on his knees hugged the picture like it was his lost hope, he continues to cry silently replies full of longing especially loneness " My dear light, my sunshine I couldn't bear to see you disappear when you said your going to hibernate I was devastated which led me to kidnapped an innocent cookie and do unspeakable things to it I am a sinful cookie, I hope you wouldn't pardon me for my sins I am just lost, I don't what to do without you my life is meaningless my dear dragon empress Celestia I miss you my dear queen". He cried alone in the office without anyone comforting him nor hugging him to soath his heart out. Unknown to the crying broken king, someone was outside listening to it as his magenta eyes softened before giving tsk left the grieving king.

Back in the dungeons, it's been days since your last visit dark Choco Cookie was getting impatient because you haven't appears for fulfilled your daily quota as dark shadow milk cookie comforted the paranoid prince. But suddenly the door to the dungeon opened as both of the princes hissed in annoyance as the light nearly blinded them upon recovered they shocked to see the king himself dark cacao cookie looking at him with his usual self, dark Choco Cookie just glared at his monsteroisty of a father. Dark cacao cookie gestured his guards to follow the chained princes outside, upon arriving dark Choco Cookie almost lumped on him but dark shadow stopped him. Dark cacao cookie turned around and falls on his knees asking for his forgiveness which took them off guard dark Choco Cookie glared at his father with amused smile laughs " You monster of a cookie due to thinking I would bye your Soo called acting skills, give up your the worst scumbag I have ever seen". Dark cacao cookie clutching on his fists knowing it would be difficult to ask his forgiveness but suddenly a voice called them out turned towards the source it was you flying in air upon landing you said" I already forgiven him but dark Choco Cookie you should pardon him, his is sincere. Dark Choco Cookie was reluctant but dark shadow milk cookie forgive him along with forcefully pardon, suddenly dark Choco Cookie grasped your hands asked in worry " are you okay are you hurt? Is your wings okay?" Unknown the situation they were in Dark shadow milk cookie looking between them he gave a smirk

" I heard love always win the war, heeeee what a beautiful way to display it hahaha".

Dark cacao cookie just smiles made a teasing tone " Son when are grand kids are coming?". This took both of them off guard you took blushes and move away in embarrassment.

Unknown to the clueless couple, somewhere between the Himalayas deep within the cannoyan of it as an crimson glowing yellow slit eye opens illuminated the darkness as the star marking on it's forehead glows, opening it's jaws numerous fangs could be seen said it tone full of silent rage " Looks like I have to pay " special" visit to dark cacao kingdom don't you think my dear sister?". Camera paused as another eye opens with snowflake like marking on it's forehead glowing blue and one azure baby eye glows as the entire Himalayas shocked due to unknown beings presence.