#and true love kiss is one of my favorite tropes

[hanafubukki]

Imagine you and malleus were in a relationship before he overblotted.

You were put to sleep and you had been helping Silver through his UM to wake everyone up.

Eventually, malleus is defeated and everyone wakes up.

Except for you

Malleus is stricken. You, the one who is so precious to him, is not waking up. Because of him

He goes to you, shaken.

He begs you to wake up, please.

But you sleep without any change.

He leans in and kisses you.

It’s his only choice.

He has no power left.

No other way to wake you.

But to depend on a fairy tale solution.

But miraculously, you awaken.

And you call his name fondly.

Malleus finally finally breathes and cries into you.

Welcome back you say

I’m home he says back

Amongst the destruction, his family, and of course, you.

He really is back.

[sammakesart]

Solavellan, or the Tale of the Dread Bridegroom

The reason I have always been drawn to the Solas and Lavellan romance in the Dragon Age series (besides having a deep love for villains and dramatic cheekbones) is because it brings to mind my favorite type of fairytale: the animal (or monster) bridegroom. The most famous of these would probably be Beauty and the Beast. However, the Solavellan romance felt more similar to my favorite iteration of this type: East of the Sun and West of the Moon. 

In the tale, a young woman is married to a monster… or so she thinks. He is keeping his true identity a secret from her. He brings her to an enchanted castle, and everything is actually pretty great for a time. Then she grows too curious. She discovers his true identity—he’s an attractive man! And a prince! He is forced to leave her and return to his evil witch-queen stepmother. Our heroine, who has fallen in love with her revealed prince, sets out to find him and save him from his wicked stepmother. She has to make a perilous journey. She faces trials and tribulations. She frees her prince, breaks the curse, and they leave together to live happily ever after.

There is also another tale that has many parallels to the Solavellan romance. The myth of Eros and Psyche, which is the blueprint for the animal bridegroom tales. It follows the same general plot, but I’d like to highlight a few differences. This is a myth about a god falling in love with a mortal, and that mortal becoming a goddess herself in the end after proving herself and winning her god-husband back.

In the myth, Eros is sent by his mother, Aphrodite, to trick Psyche into falling in love with something hideous for a perceived infraction against the goddess. Basically, Psyche had too many admirers who were worshiping her as the second coming of Aphrodite. Eros falls in love with Psyche instead, and spirits her away to a castle. She discovers his true identity. He flees. She faces trials. Etc and so forth. Eros and Psyche are reunited. She is given the drink of immortality, and joins her husband in the realm of the gods as a goddess in her own right so they can be together as equals.

It was the kind of ending I wanted for Solas and Lavellan. A heroine falls in love with a cursed prince and saves him. A mortal falls in love with a god, a doomed by the narrative pairing if there ever was one, but in the end, she triumphs, and she joins him as his equal.

Those are very simplified synopses, but you can see the parallels. Solas, in a reversal of the beast-husband trope, is keeping half of his identity secret from Lavellan, but it’s the beast (the Dread Wolf) side of himself he is keeping a secret. He takes Lavellan to his castle, Skyhold. They begin to fall in love. They kiss in a dream. They kiss on a balcony. They dance at a ball. Very fairy tale romance. They’re happy. Until they’re not.

When our heroine discovers Solas’s true identity, that he is Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf himself (who does indeed turn into a giant wolf monster as we see in Veilguard), he must leave our heroine, and she cannot join him. What can Lavellan do? Well, swear to save him, of course! And if that is what she chooses, she sets out on her own journey of trials and tribulations to rescue her monstrous prince. But he is not just the prince or the monster, he’s the villain as well. Delicious.

Lavellan is Solas’s heroine, his knight in shining armor. Funnily enough, you can make a joke about “riding in on a shining steed” to Solas during an early conversation with him. She can also flirt with him later during this conversation. What is that flirt option? “You can trust me.” She tells him she will protect him… however she has to. Solas here is the damsel in distress, the prince who needs saving, and she will save her prince from his tower (or his regret prison) however she has to.

What trials does our heroine have to face, you ask? Besides the tracking him down, of course. Well, let’s see. Trials always come in threes.

Three times Lavellan reaches out to him, and asks him to stop. She tells him that whatever he is facing, they can face it together. “Whatever you need, we can find together.” “Let me help you, Solas.” “I am walking the dinan’shiral with you.” And it’s like he’s under a curse to reject her, but every time he reminds her he loves her, because he wants to be saved. He wants to be with her. “I cannot do that.” He does love her. “I wish it could, vhenan.” He wants their love to triumph. “Ir abelas, vhenan. I cannot.” One more time, my heart. Ask me one more time. He is under a geas, but screaming as loud as it will let him: Save me! I love you!

(I do not think he is under a literal geas in the story. It is more of a psychological one, one he has put himself under to justify his wrongdoings to himself.)

It also is very fitting that the rule of three is what it takes to stop him: Mythal, Rook, and Lavellan. Past, present, and future. Though it was Lavellan who found the first statue which kicked off the quest, the spark of hope that he could be saved still.

It also appears that Solas reaches out to Lavellan three times on his own. He orchestrates a meeting in Crossroads to explain. He visits her in dreams, though from an endless distance. He sends her a letter, reaffirming his love for her and telling her he wanted to be with her, and that his feelings will never change.

So the fourth time she reaches out, after the (metaphorical) curse has been lifted, there is no rejection. She’s won. He only offers a warning. She must choose him freely and with full knowledge of what is to come. She does. They perform a wedding ceremony of their own making and share a bloody kiss. Peak cinema.

It’s a darker fairytale, where the heroine falls for the prince, the monster, and the evil sorcerer all in one. And she wins. She gets everything she wants.

I’m just very passionate about fairytales. I wrote many a paper on them in college. Nothing pleases me more than a good retelling that captures the essence of what fairytales are truly about.

I think too many critics are trying to view Solas and Lavellan’s romance through the lens of a real life, modern day relationship. But fairytales are the realm of allegory, not reality.

We are in the realm of the mythic. Here be gods and monsters, princes and evil sorcerers. And Solas is all of those things. Lavellan is the heroine of all time who ends the story having saved the world (again), and is now ascending to godhood (there is an Andraste and the Maker parallel here, I swear), and she’s rescued her true love to top it all off.

I see a modern trend of no longer giving heroines love stories, and I dislike it. Because love stories in fiction are rarely ever about just finding a man. It’s about accepting the whole of yourself. I think of the heroine’s journey. The reconciliation with the masculine and the darker aspects of yourself. Women are told they must always be good. Make the right choices. Nah, let her fall in love with the villain and be selfish. Let her make out with her monster covered in blood as a treat.

I think monster romance has become so popular lately because, subconsciously, women feel like there is a monster inside of themselves that they have to hide from the world, lest you be judged for being imperfect, ugly, monstrous. Monster, and by extension villain, romance lets you fall in love with the dark other as the ultimate form of self-acceptance. (This is not an experience exclusive to women by any means, but I can only speak to my personal experience as one.)

Our heroine didn’t make the polite, respectable choice. She fell for the monster, the villain, and chose herself in the end. She didn’t choose a man. She wasn’t chasing after him, begging him to love her, in the hope of getting him back. She was pursuing him in her quest to stop him in order to save the world. She was just also in love with him and hoped he could be saved. Hope is a powerful thing, but this age has made people cynical. Let her have a little hope. Sometimes it’s all we have.

I do believe she would have killed him if she had to. And he would have killed her if given absolutely no other choice, or perhaps let her kill him for an extra layer of angst. Interestingly, I think Lavellan would have been able to live with that choice, but I don’t think Solas would have been able to. It would have destroyed him, fully twisted him into Pride, and he would have lost any hope of being able to “come back.”

I am fascinated by the fact that Lavellan and Solas are quintessential hero archetypes. The type that will not sacrifice the fate of world for their love, but will sacrifice their love for the world and for the “greater good”—as they see it. Only Solas has twisted himself into the villain. He’s a dark mirror of the hero. He is the hero, reversed. Thus, he dooms the world in attempting to save it. Repeatedly. (“He’s a tragic deuteragonist!” I scream, as they drag me away.)

Lavellan is the upright hero. She will save the day, or die trying. She will sacrifice her love, which is why I think it’s incorrect to say she gave everything up for him. She says in her second conversation with Rook that she would not join him in his Fade Prison. “To give up the world for him? No. We’ve got to save it first.” She will not give up everything for him. She will not doom the world to be with him. But after the world is saved… well, then. That’s a different story. She wants to be with him. And together, they can find balance.

They were both made and shaped into figureheads. Weapons. Legends. A hero and a villain. They’ve had the fate of the world on their shoulders multiple times over. There *is* no place for them in this world. But in another world... they can find their true selves away from well-meant misunderstanding and mindless worship. 

This is an apotheosis of Lavellan’s own choosing. I will not be your Herald. I will be a god on my own terms.

Solas never saw Lavellan as anyone other than who she is. He knew she was not the Herald, and he never treated her as such. He was uniquely able to understand her plight. He too had been given a title once and was later consumed by it. Dread Wolf.

Where else can two people like them go? Especially where they can be together in peace?

However, I don’t see this as the end for them. They are just onto the next adventure, this time together. And they’ll be unstoppable. The narrative had to make them exit stage left. No enemy could possibly win against them. They are too powerful. Lavellan is stronger than the narrative itself. The narrative had doomed her love, and she went: “No, I don’t accept that. I will save the world, win my prince/monster/villain, and now we’re leaving. Thanks!”

And Solas? We saw how devoted he was to Mythal. But Mythal never chose him. She twisted him into Pride. Used him as a weapon… and he destroyed the world for her. Twice. And was trying for a third. Just imagine what he could accomplish now with Lavellan, who chose him. Who encouraged him to be Wisdom. Who does not stand above him, as his goddess—but beside him, as his wife. Yeah, the writers had to put them in the Fade Prison. Their combined power was just too strong.

And I don’t believe for a minute they’ll be trapped in that regret prison forever. Solas tells us how to escape, and now he is in the right state of mind to accomplish it. Solas will do his court-ordered therapy. Lavellan will get a much needed vacation in dream land… then they’re going to heal the blight with the power of love. Or something. They just needed to be nerfed long enough for BioWare to squeeze a few more games out of the franchise. Then Solas and Lavellan will be set free to find a secret third option for the Veil, remove it safely, and Sandal’s prophecy will finally come true: “One day the magic will come back. All of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part, the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.”

This is not to say I don’t have plenty of critiques for how Solas and Lavellan’s romance was written and concluded in Veilguard. But I think it was always going to be disappointing in some regards because it’s very difficult to conclude your heroine’s story from a new hero’s point of view in a new hero’s story. She will lack the agency she needs in this kind of tale because she has been relegated to a minor NPC, and she (and we) can hardly get a peak into Solas’s state of mind. How I wish we could have asked him endless insightful questions, instead of just pointing fingers. How I wish while Rook was in the prison, we could have controlled our Inquisitor for a quest or two and had a private conversation with Solas. The writing overall was a huge letdown for me. But I still love my once doomed couple, now together forever. I always will. 

[lurkingshan]

What are some JBLs you recommend that have good kisses AND a good romance plot

LOL I can hear the pain behind this question, anon. It’s true that a lot of JBLs with a good romance story fail to deliver on the physical intimacy side of things, though that is becoming less and less the norm. I do have some that I think do both reasonably well. I don’t know exactly what “good romance” means to you, but I’m going to assume we’re talking about well-executed romance plots, regardless of the show’s overall genre and focus, where the characters and relationship arc make sense and don’t randomly derail somewhere along the way. Here’s what I got:

I Cannot Reach You

This is a high school friends to lovers (the cream of the crop for that trope, IMO). This is a story about realizing feelings and building the courage to change your most important relationship, so you’ll have to wait a bit to get those kisses but once you do, I think you’ll be pleased.

His

The second chance romance for me. This is a bl film about two men who come back together after a bad breakup and figure out how to make it work. I love them and this story so much.

Old Fashion Cupcake

There’s only one kiss in this short and sweet show, but it’s a real doozy. A super tight workplace age gap romance that knows exactly what it’s doing.

At 25:00 in Akasaka

Two actors who went to college together meet again when they are cast opposite each other in a bl drama, and get tangled up in the blurred lines between their professional and personal relationships. Angst, baby!

The Pornographer

This series features some of the best kissing and sex scenes you will see anywhere in the bl genre, but warning that it’s a twisted and wild ride. There are five installments and you gotta watch them all to see the full picture of the character and romance arcs. It’s so rewarding if you do.

The End of the World With You

From the same mind of the previous entry and similarly hot and wild and weird. This show has more going on than the second chance romance at its core, but it themes come together beautifully.

Tokyo In April Is…

Another second chance romance, this one features a lot of sex but also deals with heavy subject matter, so mind the CWs. It’s one of my favorites of last year and the love story in this one has really stuck with me; it’s beautiful and so hard won.

Love is Better the Second Time Around

This one comes with a disclaimer that it goes off the rails in the final two episodes, but you asked for good kissing so it would feel wrong not to include it. Yet another second chance romance (are you picking up on a theme here?), this one gets two former high school lovers back together as adults to sort out their misunderstandings, lingering feelings, and buckets of sexual tension. It was so good—until it wasn’t.

[girlokwhatever]

✵✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⊹ ⋆｡˚⋆ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part one ; beginning of the end

next part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

you didn’t care when you found out your ex got a new girlfriend. you were completely over her and her antics, realizing in the last few months of your relationship how utterly exhausting it was. it wasn’t until you found out that her new girlfriend was the girl she cheated on you with that you cared.

it was stupid really, the whole situation. your ex girlfriend, bianca, cheated on you whilst out at a party, you hadn’t gone, opting to instead watch one of paige’s home games with her team. you met paige your freshman year, instantly growing an inseparable bond with her. she was absolutely your closest friend, much to bianca’s disliking. you chopped it up to the fact that bianca wasn’t a fan of any of your friends and left it at that.

when bianca tried justifying her cheating on you because of your close relationship with paige, it took you off guard.

2 MONTHS AGO

you were waiting for your girlfriend to show up. your heart was racing and your breath uneven but honestly, it was long overdue. it had been months since you actually shared a happy moment with bianca, easily able to find more enjoyment in your friends.

you’d found out from a close friend that she had cheated on you at least once, maybe more. your friend spotted her at a party with a girl, kissing and grinding on each other. it was all making sense to you now. the way she was almost too close, too clingy. as if she was overcompensating for a mistake. a huge mistake.

“babe? what’s up?”

“why’d you fuck another girl at a party two weeks ago?”

she went silent, eyes wide with shock. her face spoke for her, affirming that what you thought to be true actually was. even though your relationship had been rocky, especially towards the end, it still broke your heart. she was your high school sweetheart. she even committed to uconn just for you.

it meant fuck all now.

“don’t act like you’re so innocent, princess.”

she doesn’t even try to deny it, immediately spitting back at you. you’re not even sure what she’s referring to, but it looks like she believes it.

“what are you talking about?”

“really?!” she scoffs, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i know about you and paige, how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back.”

“are you fucking dumb?! paige and i are just friends bianca! oh my god- even when you know you’ve done something wrong you can’t admit it.”

you were walking around the corner of the counter when she grabbed you hard. her aggressive behavior was nothing new, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. part of you was wishing it would work out, but a greater part of you was glad she’d finally pushed you over the edge.

“let go of me and get the hell out.”

“excuse me?!”

“i said, get the fuck out, and don’t fucking come back.”

PRESENT DAY

you, paige, and some of your mutual friends were out at your favorite bar. it was a friday night and none of you had anything better to do.

you’d done some rotations: drinking, dancing, singing, sitting down, dancing again, but now you were back to sitting. you took a seat next to paige and she was thankful for that, but you hardly acknowledged her.

after bianca’s excuse for cheating on you being your close relationship with paige, you had distanced yourself considerably. you stopped showing up randomly to her dorm and practices, stopped calling, and stopped asking to hang out too. paige knew you and bianca broke up and kept telling herself you were just trying to get over that. occasionally she’d reach out to ask you if you were doing okay, sometimes it’d take you more than a day to answer.

it hurt paige more than it should’ve and she knew that. for years, ever since she’d met you, she’s had feelings for you. even when she tried to avoid them, you were all she could think about. it was difficult considering you had a psycho girlfriend that you refused to let go of until recently. even now that you were single it was no use, not if you were going to treat her like she didn’t exist.

you hadn’t noticed bianca and her new girlfriend walk in, too enamored by the bubbles in your drink. paige noticed though, watching the way your ex’s eyes scanned the room. paige looked away before she got caught staring, settling her elbows back on the bar.

“have you been having a good night?” paige asked just to get some conversation flowing with you. she missed being so close to you, even if she knew she always wanted more. she’d rather settle for a friendship with you than have nothing at all.

“s’been good. might go home soon though,”

“want me to take you home princess?” it was a teasing nickname that she called you, an old inside joke. when bianca heard it she decided to start calling you that too unironically, completely unaware of the joke.

“i think-”

“princess.”

bianca’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a sharpened knife, offering a completely different tone than the way paige said it. her new girlfriend must’ve run off somewhere, seeing as it was only her that had approached you. she took the barstool next to you, sliding her chair to face you. she looks unimpressed and expectant, not surprised to see paige lingering by your side.

“i need to talk to you.”

“talk to your new girlfriend. y’know, the one you cheated on me with.”

“she’s not my girlfriend” —another toxic lie “i just want to talk to you.”

“no.”

“princess-”

“fuck you.” you seethe out a her, hoping it’s enough to keep her quiet. unfortunately though, it isn’t.

“don’t talk to me like that.”

you try avoiding bianca, turning to paige and muttering a quick ‘can we go.’ it’s difficult to hear you but she does, standing up and pushing her chair in. bianca loathes paige, always has. as soon as you met paige all you wanted to do was talk about her, hang out with her, study with her, and bianca couldn’t stand it.

“and you tried calling me dumb when i found out you two were hooking up behind my back,” she scoffs as if it’s obvious.

paige’s eyebrows knit in confusion, you never mentioned that part. paige doesn’t know what made bianca think that, but she secretly wishes there was some truth to it, as bad as it may be. even when doing something she knows is wrong, paige has never regretted a second spent with you.

you knew you were probably too drunk to make a decision this big. as soon as the thought popped into your head you favored it, wanting to get back at bianca for all she put you through. you didn’t even give it a second thought, your mouth running faster than any of your cognitive abilities at the moment.

“guess you were right, but hey— she treats me better than you ever did.”

both bianca and paige are shocked, completely taken aback by your statement. what were you getting at?

“so what- you’re dating now?”

“yep. thanks for helping me realize i could do so much better.”

before you have time to show your fleeting confidence and the fact that you just lied straight through your teeth, you grab paige’s hand and walk off. you’re honestly not sure how she’ll react or how you’ll move from here.

either of you say a word until you’re in the silent safety of her car. she turns to face you, a blank expression written across her face. it makes it difficult to figure out what’s going on in her mind. you wish you could tell, it’d probably make things easier. you can tell that she’s a bit flustered, but maybe that’s just because of how hot it was inside.

“paige?”

“yeah?”

“i know this is probably going to be a really weird question and maybe the question itself is too late because i’ve already dug us into this hole but i swear you don’t have to go through with it..”

“okay..”

“will you, um.. will you be my fake girlfriend?”

she’s conflicted, torn between her better judgement and overall feelings for you. her body surges with anger at the way bianca talked to you tonight. but her body also swells with pride and attraction after hearing you say those things about dating her, even if she knows it’s not real. she wants it to be real so desperately and she’s knows she’s already made up her mind without needing to think it through.

one hand is on the steering wheel and the other drags itself down her face, questioning internally if she’s really going to go through with this. her silence settles on you, panic rising as you realize maybe you’ve just ruined your friendship. or what was left of it.

“you can say no obviously-”

“i’ll do it.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟׂׂૢ

UMMM i’ll spell check this tmr

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

i kinda don’t.

THIS IS A SERIES YALL

[felikatze]

Euphrasie and the End

A Deep Dive into the Head Housemaiden and her symbolic meaning

Introduction

Spoilers for the whole game, and also the prologue, by the way.

Hello everybody. You may know me from that other post about Euphrasie or maybe the ludonarrative essay or the QOL one. No matter the case, today I return to my favorite side character, Euphrasie, the Head Housemaiden.

This all starts with a central thesis you're likely to be familiar with.

Euphrasie represents the end. In the most literal sense, she is where every journey ends. She is the representation of Siffrin's fears. With every repetition, Siffrin grows to dread and fear the sight of her, more than they ever do facing down the King again.

And I want to look at that.

The Damsel

It's a tale as old as time. The big bad has kidnapped the lovely princess! Everyone, we must save her! And so, our epic tale begins, as Mario chases after Peach and Link vows to return and save Zelda -

That, quite obviously, is Euphrasie. Albeit not your traditional princess, she's still a female figure with great importance to our protagonist. (Our protagonist, quite obviously, being Mirabelle.)

Mirabelle's entire journey begins with her fleeing the House and embarking on an adventure with one goal - return home, and free everyone. ISAT invokes many many many stereotypical RPG tropes.

It uses those tropes by going, well, you know how the story goes, let's get right into the meat of it, yeah? Because ISAT is a story that only works on the precipice of an ending. It's the last dungeon! We're back in starter town, transformed by the big bad, and now we gotta take it back. (Like, do I have to invoke Ocarina of Time, or something? You know how it goes, you've seen this story before.)

Siffrin isn't afraid of the journey, the intro makes that blatantly clear all on its own. This entire journey is, quite literally, the happiest Siffrin can ever remember being.

He doesn't want it to end.

The story ends when you save the damsel. She will reward the heroes (usually with a kiss, but this time with a hug), thank them for their efforts, and then the credits roll. If we want to stay here and be pedantic, we can pull examples out of our hats all day for this trope as old as time.

Euphrasie is the end, not just within the context of the game's individual story, but for its type of story. Pretty woman, trapped by the bad guy, last person to be saved, emotional importance to the protagonist, dramatically awaits the rescue by her dashing protagonist after giving her the magic ocarina blessing to give Mirabelle her Special Protagonist Power that makes her super special and immune to the bad guy.

Euphrasie also gets the addition of being the wise mentor, combining tropes a bit, though I don't think it's uncommon for mentor figures to be the kidnappees either, even if the example I'm thinking of first is Eyvel from Thracia 776. (And you see once again, that I am incapable of thinking outside of Fire Emblem comparisons.)

So, simply from her role alone, we expect her to be the story's natural conclusion, but the setting helps that point, too. It's the rooftop of the final dungeon. Very obvious location, yeah?

The game's structure also builds anticipation into meeting her. Here and there, you hear about her from Mirabelle. And, right before facing the King, that's when Mirabelle talks about Euphrasie in-depth, how Euphie should've been the chosen one. We've got a lot of ideas about Euphrasie now, we're thinking about her as we go into the final boss.

And Siffrin dies. Duh.

We're so close to the end, and it's torn away from us. We need to get to it, get to her. Finally get past the King to meet her.

She's the conclusion. And in this moment, she is the goal, too.

Speaking of the King, though --

The True Final Boss

As Siffrin faces the King again and again, they grow less scared. More jaded. If you die to him thrice (or play START AGAIN), you get the option to say "Let's just get right to it", and skip his entire monologue.

After all, you've beaten him once. You can do it again. So who cares about him, yeah? Facing him only gets easier and easier as the game progresses. The King may be scary still in some story aspects, but in gameplay? Not a chance.

ACT 4 doesn't end with him. It ends with her.

As Siffrin faces Euphrasie again and again -

(No, no, no, she could've answered your questions, why?!?)

(Even though you asked for something different at the start of this conversation...)

(WHY IS SHE REPEATING THE EXACT SAME THING?!?)

Siffrin (yelling4): "JUST TALK TO ME!!!

Talking to her again makes her scarier, because Siffrin may have gotten past the King, but he's never gotten past her. For all intents and purposes, Euphrasie is the final boss of the story.

Again, ACT 4 - Siffrin's deepest moment of despair, confirmation of ultimate failure, is her.

Speaking of final bosses...

They both cut a rather striking silhouette, don't they?

Yes, yes, islander theory, white hair. That's an in-universe theory though, but the point is, it does make them look similar. They both have long cascading white hair, they're both extremely tall. They are both similar yet different in appearance.

Euphrasie is rounded where the King is jagged, namely. Soft where he is imposing. But those similarities still remain. Contrasting figures that only enhance the similarities all the more.

(I felt utterly insane for seeing this, but. Do you see it. DO YOU??) (Like. Outside of any theory stuff, her being the only person to have white hair beside King and Siffrin, long white hair to boot, has thematic signifcance as well, yes?)

[Side note: Yes, it is utterly irrelevant here that insertdisc5 said her hair is dyed, because it is STILL a striking resemblance of character design that can be interpreted with symbolic meaning, thank you~)

The trangles.

Though she may overshadow the King as the Endpoint past ACT 2 in ISAT, she does not in START AGAIN.

In START AGAIN, the ending beyond does not exist, for all intents and purposes. The endpoint was pulled forward. Whereas ISAT Siffrin's true dread sets in after beating the King, in SASASAP, it does so in the break room right before facing him.

Or, well, the resignation.

In In Stars and Time:

Siffrin (fake1): "Hi." Siffrin (fake1): "You can start breaking down now." Euphrasie (sorry1): Breaking down...? What do you...

In Start Again:

(You wonder how everyone will die this time.) (Will the King beat them with Craft until they are no more?) (Will he freeze them in time, unable to move or breathe for all eternity?) (How will YOU meet your end?) (In blood and stars maybe... In tears and time perhaps...)

The natural acceptance that, (you can look at the title of this again) this is the end. That there is no getting past this. They are both the last obstacle that can never be overcome, between the games.

Hell, just COMPARE SAP's true ending to like, the end of ACT 4.

Siffrin awakens in the meadow. Everything was in vain. Everything was useless.

Siffrin finally, after a thousand loops or even more, beat the King. This is supposed to be the end, but it's not. So, this proves once and for all that there is no escape. They're trapped here forever.

They built it up for so long in their head that all they have to do is beat the King, and then the suffering's over.

And in ACT 4... Siffrin builds it up for so long in their head... All they have to do is ask the Head Housemaiden about Wish Craft. That's it. That's the answer! After that, it's the end! It'll be over! He just needs to do this one thing...

Loop (away1): ...Is that so? But, didn't you already-- Siffrin (unhinged1): "It is so!" Siffrin (unhinged1): "I might be able to break the loop, somehow!" Loop (away1): ... Siffrin (unhinged1): "You know, it might just be that I need to make everyone's wish come true! And everything will be back to normal!" Siffrin (unhinged1): "If I talk to her, she'll know, she'll be able to tell me what to do..." Siffrin (unhinged4): "If I can just talk to her...!"

And is wrong, of course. They wake up in the meadow and despair. So, this proves once and for all that there is no escape. They're trapped here forever.

Siffrin: "Or, or does it mean-- It means--" Siffrin: "It means I'm stuck here for good, aren't I?" Siffrin: "Forever?" Loop: ... Loop: . . . (. . .) Siffrin: (No.) "You think I'm stuck here forever."

It's the exact same mindset with different characters representing the end point. The parallel becomes even more evident in that Siffrin's very last manic shot at victory is the exact thing that proved Loop's failure - supposing that the King is the true end point.

Yet it's also different, in what these two characters represent.

The King is very much a representation of the past. His fate in ACT 5 ultimately proves what it means to refuse to let go - being frozen in time is both a metaphor and very literal. He's stuck in the past, by choice. He could've lived and chosen to embrace Vaugarde and move on, but he didn't.

Y'know, he's a bad end Siffrin, metaphorically (albeit not literally. Narrative mirrors and all.) He's what Siffrin would end up like if they never learned their lesson. If they keep refusing to let go of the past... and embrace the future.

Euphrasie's Agency and lack thereof

To Siffrin, there is no future. They can't conceive of what happens after this journey. So, the character marking the endpoint of the journey, and the start of a new chapter in Siffrin's life, cannot see a future either.

It's... fascinating, to me. How Euphrasie is a vessel of Siffrin's insecurities by force. Siffrin's Wish has taken hold of her. It's using her as a stop, on purpose.

Odile (worried2): Because... Talking to you... Means our journey to save Vaugarde is really over, isn't it? Odile (gimme1): And for you, Siffrin, it also meant all of us going our separate ways, doesn't it? Isabeau (angry1): The very thing the loops were trying to stop...

(Points at my first point about Euphrasie being the Damsel, and thus the natural endpoint of any given RPG. Hey. Hey do you see how obvious this is yet.)

Euphrasie seems to have some sort of ability to feel Wish Craft, or the Universe, or Change, or whatever. She knows what her role in this play is, most of the time. "I can feel it! We both know this! It's all over when you talk to me!"

(IT'S ALL OVER WHEN YOU TALK TO HER.)

What she says mirrors what Siffrin thinks about her. This becomes most obvious only in retrospect, looking once again at the ACT 4 finale.

Euphrasie always says the same thing, because she is the end and the end can neither change nor ever arrive, but she can only say something new in one circumstance.

Siffrin (angry4): (You just wish she would ANSWER YOU!!!!!!) "Now that you know, now that I know, you can fix it!!!" Euphrasie (ending3): . . . Euphrasie (ending3): Fix it?

When Siffrin wishes for her to. Her capability to act in new ways is directly controlled by Siffrin's desire. Since the entire loops are caused by their subconscious desire to stay with everyone, she fulfills the role of keeping everyone together.

Thinking back on what she says...

"I know you thought your quest was over, but it can't be."

Your quest. Yes, quest is also used in a general story context, especially in fantasy, but Quest has long since become a well-established term in video games of all stripes. Sidequests, Main quest, hey, isn't it weird how ISAT refers to all its storylines as quests?

Friendquests being the obvious example. Fetch Quest, Companion Quest, Tutorial Quest, Really? He doesn't need your help with a quest?

But outside of that... I know I just know these terms because of my script wizard activities, but every storyline is a quest. Kingquest. Loopquest. Friendquest.

There's any number of words that could be chosen ("journey" probably being most prominent) and yet she says quest. By using a term inoxerably tied to video games by this point, she's saying "I know you thought the game was over, but it can't be."

And see how the game uses glitched imagery and static to represent everything breaking down, both at the end of every loop, and in ACT 5. This imagery is just confusing and means nothing to the characters, but is very obvious if you are Playing A Game.

The fuzzy static of an old TV, the bars of screen corruption, random symbols in text, the distorted music like a malfunctioning cassette tape…

If I may be so bold as to harken back to one of my own previous essays... The timeloop is the game.

It all ends when you talk to her. Everything ends when you talk to her. The goddamn game ends when you talk to her for the last time.

I got a bit of track here from the point, which is- her agency.

As we've established, she functions as Siffrin's own stop, on purpose. She can only act independently when Siffrin wishes her to.

And her not doing so is the beginning marker of everything breaking down in ACT 5, as well.

When Mirabelle interrupts her usual greeting speech, Euphrasie reacts differently immediately. She takes a look at Siffrin, diagnoses them with Craft overusage, and says they just need rest.

"But he'll be fine, now that the battle is over."

But, as usual, she can... sense what's happening.

"Every time I've tried to reach out and feel what's happening, I sense... Chaos..." "It feels like something is... Rotting..."

Mirabelle: "...?" Isabeau: "Rotting...?" Euphrasie: "I know you thought your quest was over, but it can't be! Something's broken, something's failing, rotting!"

She even skips back and forwards between all her different lines, everything Siffrin expects of her and has memorized by now, when we've seen that she was acting differently just a moment before.

It's Siffrin's wish kicking in again that marks the final straw once more, their clashing desire to stay in the loop against his desparate will to escape, resulting in Euphrasie being torn between who she actually is (acting new! moving forward!) against what Siffrin needs her to be.

(you're still stuck here) (but isn't it fine?) (eternity is within your grasp)

Mentioning eternity even harkens back both to the King ("I just want eternity.") AND the ACT 4 ending ("To know you'll be trapped for all eternity, Siffrin... I am so sorry!!!").

Again, like, Euphrasie's agency being torn from her, falling back into that old pattern, is what marks Siffrin realizing he's been wishing for eternity this entire time. It's written on the wall all over ACT 4.

Like, literally, textually, if you choose to pray to the intact Change God statue in ACT 4, Siffrin's prayer is "(You wish for eternity.)"

Because in the course of all these loops, Siffrin has been denying everyone's agency. Euphrasie is just the most prominent example. In ACT 5, by wishing for eternity, what Siffrin has (accidentally) forced onto Euphrasie all this time, he is trying to force onto everyone.

Whether or not Euphrasie is allowed to be a person is a direct marker of Siffrin's ability to escape the loop. It's only over when she's allowed to be free.

Euphrasie is the first person in the ending to mention going home.

"Finally, you'll all be able to go home!!!"

But in ACT 6, she doesn't. She doesn't mention going home at all. Instead, she tells everyone a new story. One Siffrin's never heard before.

Allowing Euphrasie to be free turns her back into the symbol of change that she's supposed to be. I'm repeating myself, but it truly is her change that is the definite, 100% sure marker that Siffrin is free, too. That the future is here.

Why are circles a symbol of change, anyway?

In me saying, Euphrasie symbolized stagnation, until Siffrin allows her to stand for the future again, it is irony. It is immense irony that the Head Housemaiden of Change Itself turns into a symbol of endings and stagnation through Siffrin's denial.

And, on the topic of irony, I ask you:

When the hell are circles a symbol of change???

You know. Circles. The things that famously represent cycles (wow, wonder if those words are related), repetition, infinity and eternity.

Isn't that weird. Isn't that ironic. The entire symbology of the House of Change is supposed to represent, well, Change, but just amounts to representing cycles (yknow, THE LOOPS. LITERAL TIME CYCLES.) through the recontextualization of Siffrin's experience with them.

Even the Change God doesn't oppose the time loops, instead being excited for how Siffrin changes as everything else stays the same.

The circle symbol is a witty act of irony from a design standpoint, and one I must only applaud, because why the hell didn't I see that sooner.

No, like, for real. If anybody knows some real life religion or culture where circles represent change and new beginnings instead of revolutions or the turn of seasons or the cycle of life and all that stuff. Please do tell me about it? I'm not omnipotent.

But generally, the irony of Euphrasie carries forward into the irony of the Change religion as in-universe these are symbols of change, but out of universe, to us, the players, they're symbols of repetition. Just like how to everybody else Euphie is a change, but to Siffrin she is stagnation. (Re: my other essay where I compare Siffrin to a video game player and the timeloops to a video game and I go on a whole metanarrative tangent.)

This plays into the metanarrative! Making meaning to the characters and to us incongruent! And it's cool as fuck, what can I say.

To cap off, let's compare what she says in every normal loop, and ACT 6, won't we?

Euphrasie (smiling4): Finally, you'll all be able to go home!!! Euphrasie (smiling3): If there's anything the House of Dormont can do to thank you... Please do not hesitate. Euphrasie (thankyou1): But for now... Bask in the feeling of a job well done!!!

And, in ACT 6….

Euphrasie (smiling2): I'm sure you must have a lot to talk about with everyone. Euphrasie (smiling1): But be sure to talk to me when you're all done! Euphrasie (smiling4): So I can happily bless you and your companions' new journey!!!

A Plain Ol' Euphrasie Character Analysis

Heyo, that finishes my essay on Euphrasie's symbolic meaning about narrative and shit! But...

It feels kind of mean, to write so much about what her agency and lack thereof represent, without actually talking about who she is. I didn't mention that a lot, see, because it's not important. Because that part's not important to Siffrin, because during the timeloops, Siffrin doesn't see her as a person.

So. Let's talk about her! Who is she? What is she like? What does she do?

Personality

The Good and the Funny

She's really funny. I mean it. Generally, she loves to joke around, and she has this ojou-sama style "Ohoho~" laugh that I find utterly delightful.

Siffrin (tired2): "But you might know something about--" Euphrasie (smiling4): Ohohoho! Euphrasie (smiling4): Sorry, I know nothing until you talk to your friends! Euphrasie (smiling3): And quite honestly, it is a little funny to see you get steamed about this, ohoho!

So many things in this bit. This is from when you try to talk to her before all the others in a regular loop. The reason she doesn't talk back first is of course because of the whole Agency thing (see above), but also, it's funny for her to take the piss.

Yet her wanting Siffrin to talk to everyone else first also shows that she's a very considerate person! This is The Saviours' Big Moment, and she is dying to talk to Mirabelle's new friends, but she doesn't want to take away from that. She's gonna give them her moment, and only butt in once all the hugs and tears and cheers have been had.

You can see this in ACT 5, too. She doesn't pass out or anything when Siffrin smacks her away, she just recognizes that her presence is upsetting to Siffrin, she doesn't know them or their problems, so she's gonna step back and let them figure it out themselves.

Euphrasie (smiling4): Ohohoho! Don't worry about me, everyone! Mirabelle (awawa1): H-Head Housemaiden! You're okay!!! Euphrasie (smiling3): I am! I was staying away for a little bit. Euphrasie (thankyou1): You all seemed like you needed to talk, so I was patiently waiting for you all to finish your conversation! Bonnie (serious1): That's very considerate of you. Isabeau (hahaha1): It IS very considerate of you!

She even during the hand holding scene is SO considerate that she doesn't speak up and include herself until Odile asks her to join in. Which might be a bit much, actually.

Odile (lol2): Fine. Let's hold hands, then. (Odile takes Bonnie's hand.) Odile (yeah1): Head Housemaiden? Euphrasie (thankyou1): Oh! Yes, of course!

That lil "Oh!" showing she's surprised to be adressed and included in this conversation.

Anyways, the previous exchange also gives us two OTHER delightful facts about her.

Euphrasie (smiling3): I haven't had this much fun since reading the last issue of "The Cursing of Château Castle"!!!

Meaning:

She's a bit of an adrenaline junkie, and considers getting slapped across the room "fun"

The coveted last issue of Cursing of Chateau Castle in the pottery room is hers.

Delightful woman. I love her.

She's also pretty frank! She talks a lot in snappy phrases and witticisms. She's kind and patient, for one, but really not afraid to mince words.

Euphrasie (smiling4): I thought we all knew that the Change God is a pretty lazy deity! Bonnie (wait1): Wow... Odile (urgh1): Isn't that a sacrilegious thing to say...?

Really makes me like her all the more that secondhand, she comes across as graceful, larger than life, almost, and then she simply doesn't care all that much about propriety and what someone of her station is actually supposed to be like. It really fits in with the Change Belief and the ethos of being true to yourself that she doesn't bend herself like that.

I'll also continue to be delighted that she described the King defeating her as knowing that "[she] was toast", just, she's just so casual.

Guilt and Responsibility

In more serious matters. The guilttttttt.

Yeah, she's casual, but she still obviously puts a lot of focus on her responsibility to the people of the House, of Dormont. We know that she was preparing for the King to arrive. She was studying Wish Craft, she was contemplating counter measures. She was making charts of who wished what to figure out whether this could stop him.

(...The Head Housemaiden...) (She's the one who wrote this. She knows about Wish Craft.) (She knew something was wrong, this whole time.) (She might know... How to...)

There's a degree of paranoia evident that we don't see in any of her time onscreen, but you can wonder what it says about a woman to have a deadly rock trap in front of her office.

AND she doesn't have her key out in the open, she has it taped to the underside of her desk drawer. Not an infallible hiding spot, but still hidden, and not just stored.

The other people in the House were all also revealed to be the ones locking doors in the party's path, hoping that it would stop the King.

Bonnie (sad1): . . .You know, I was wondering... Bonnie (sulk2): Like, the King clearly closed this door, and put the Tears in our way... Bonnie (sad1): But the... But the locked doors, weren't they... Mirabelle (sad2): ... Odile (dotdotdot2): Yes... We were wrong. Odile (dotdotdot1): They were most likely locked by residents of the House.

Speaking of people hoping to stop the King, she has a mountain of notes on him in her office as well.

(Some notes about the King.) (The Head Housemaiden must've been looking for more information about him...)

She hid her key, trapped her door, and before that, gathered information on the King and how to counter him. So, let me ask, do you think she improvised her blessing?

Mirabelle (excited1): She's also a great Crafter! She always creates wonderful items that makes everyone's lives easer! Mirabelle (awkward2): She taught me so much... Most of the Craft skills I know, I learned from her.

She's a skilled Crafter to boot, eh?

Looking at this, I don't really think so. Beneath that jolly front, she is a logical and pragmatic woman. Looking at her ability to specifically counter the King's Curse in context of how much we know she prepared for his arrival, I believe she prepped this blessing beforehand. Whether she actually finished it, I don't know, but she had to pick Mirabelle as a subject for it quickly and under duress.

Mirabelle wasn't the ideal choice. She was the logical choice.

Euphrasie (smiling3): Well, I only had the strength to bless one person, and I was already toast, and you were almost out of the House when the King attacked... Euphrasie (smiling3): So, really, you were the only logical choice!

There are some more emotional reasons for the pick, which I'll go into later when talking about Mira, but, still. She mentions this first, before going into Mirabelle's virtues as a person.

Plus, Claude (who will also get a section later), is the person closest to the King and Euphie. She's got the Secret Ingredient for the bomb on her, and had obviously been working on making a Craft Bomb beforehand, as discovered by the gizmo gadget in her room.

Combined, we can surmise that Euphie and Claude were both making different preparations to counter the King, with Euphie focusing on Craft both by studying Wish Craft and working on a Craft to nullify the King's Curse, whereas Claude just worked on a bomb to blow him the fuck up.

Euphrasie was, simply put, working to protect the people she cared for. It's her responsibility.

And she failed.

LET'S TALK ABOUT HER GUILT!!! WOOOO!!!!

When you talk to the people in Dormont during Loopquest, some of them mention the Head Housemaiden also asking them about their wishes, but none of them know why. This implies that Euphrasie was covert in her research, likely not sharing her information either because she was unsure of its verity, or to not cause undue panic. The only other person we see with less than impromptu countermeasures is, after all, literally just Euphrasie's girlfriend, who would be the number one person Euphie would confide in about this stuff.

Even then, though, there is no concrete evidence that she did confide in Claude, outside of Claude preparing the bomb, which is circumstantial at best. Really, did she not have any issues with Siffrin's treatment of her in ACT 5, or did she just swallow it down out of pragmatism?

Can we be sure that it's sincere, when she brushes off Siffrin's worry for her?

Siffrin (US_guilty2): "You said the things you always say when I come and talk to you." Siffrin (US_guilty2): "About how the world is rotting." Siffrin (US_sad1): "And you can't do anything to help." Euphrasie (sorry3): Hm... Euphrasie (smiling4): Interesting! I don't feel like saying it now, though! Euphrasie (smiling1): Or at all! The wind feels nice and fresh. Euphrasie (smiling4): It just feels like a beautiful day, doesn't it?

After all, in the loops themselves... She's the first to notice it, every time. She knows, deep within her bones, that something's wrong, and that it's her fault.

It's especially potent symbolically, that the phrase she never gets to finish is "I hope you can learn to forgive us."

Which is a phrase that received a slight change from its comic counterpart:

"I hope you can learn to forgive me."

Regardless of the me versus us, she, with the most intimate knowledge of Wish Craft right next to the King, directed the people of Vaugarde's wish, and knows that Siffrin ended up as the Wish's subject. She can't know that this is a side effect of Siffrin's wish being entangled with her own, but she does know her own wish is involved.

She starts crying. She's disraught. She breaks down.

Euphrasie (ending2): I can't fix it on my own, not before it all ends... If only I had noticed sooner!!! Euphrasie (ending1): I should've seen it, prevented it!!!

She says that she should have seen this and prevented it. It was her responsibility to do this, and she failed.

Euphrasie (ending2): It's my fault that you have to suffer like this.

Again, she was the only one who knew, the only one who could have ever possibly had any shot of defeating the King before things got too bad. But she fucked up, he stormed in before she could prepare properly, and she squarely lost whatever confrontation might've occured between her and the King.

Euphrasie: Something goes wrong, every time!!! Euphrasie: If you're here now, asking about Wish Craft, then something must be wrong, isn't it? This isn't the first time you've gotten this far, isn't it?!? Euphrasie: It shouldn't be like this... Why does time loop back, even though the King has been defeated?!? Euphrasie: The only answer I can find... Is it's because we did it wrong.

She's responsible, pragmatic to the point of paranoia, and it wasn't enough. Of course she feels guilt. A lot of it. After all, she believes that she personally has doomed someone to eternal stagnation. That she has caused all of Vaugarde to be trapped, and for one person to suffer for it. That she caused all of Siffrin's suffering.

It's so odd to me that she manages to immediately grasp that Siffrin is in a timeloop. It could be Siffrin's wish using her as a mouthpiece, it could be that weird innate connection to the Universe she seems to have, it could be her own immediate deduction on the logic of Wish Craft, or it could be a combination of all three.

But point is, she recognizes Siffrin's looping without having to ever be told about it. And I do not think that goes away, even in ACT 5 & 6. It's just not the time and place for her to speak on her own struggles right now, not when Siffrin is finally getting the help that she cannot provide. Not when she can recognize that she is the conductor of everything that just occured, which, again, nearly broke the entire work.

Euphrasie: If only... If only we had fought back against the King, instead! If only we didn't wish for such a thing! Euphrasie: If only I knew this would happen, if I had noticed it sooner, I would never have let people wish at all!!! Euphrasie: To know you'll be trapped for all eternity, Siffrin... I am so sorry!!! Euphrasie: It's our fault, all of Vaugarde, that you have to suffer like this!!!

She gathered her intel and made her bet. She just made the wrong one.

(Yet what she never seems to recognize is that this had to happen. That without the timeloops, yeah, the King wouldn't have been defeated! The country would have been frozen!)

(But that doesn't mean anything, does it. When she had to take away Change Itself from some innocent bystander.)

Relationships

Anyways in more cheerful news let's look at the two most important people to Euphrasie we know of.

Mirabelle

Mirabelle!! The Meeble!! Euphrasie is super important to Mirabelle, and Mirabelle, in turn, is super important to Euphrasie.

From the third snack break:

Mirabelle (sad2): The Head Housemaiden... She's such a wonderful person. Mirabelle (sad2): She helped me out so much! I couldn't do anything before I came to the House, I could barely sew my own clothes, and she helped me, she taught me... Mirabelle (sad2): I wouldn't be the person I am without her! Mirabelle (sad2): And when the King attacked...  She protected me. Mirabelle (sad2): Everyone... Everyone was being frozen in time around me... Mirabelle (sad4): And the Head Housemaiden made sure I could escape! Made sure I lived!!! Mirabelle (sad4): She gave me her blessing...!!!

Similarly to some of the other older Housemaidens, Euphrasie had a big part in raising Mirabelle (which does imply some things about Mirabelle's past, but that's not the point right now). We don't know the exact sequence of events for Mirabelle escaping (outside of Mirabelle happening to be closest to the door), but Mirabelle adds some action to Euphrasie during whatever happened, saying Euphrasie "protected her".

From Euphie's office:

Mirabelle (sad2): But the King was too strong, and attacked out of nowhere, and now... I don't know what happened to her. Mirabelle (sad2): When I fled the House... The King might've already... ...

They weren't in the same room, Mirabelle doesn't even know what exactly happened to her, but still says Euphie protected her, and obviously shows great esteem for her all around.

Mirabelle just loves Euphie so much, man!

Euphrasie (sorry3): And, Housemaiden Mirabelle... Euphrasie (smiling1): You have always been the most hardworking Housemaiden in the House. Always striving to learn new things. To better yourself. Euphrasie (smiling2): Always meeting challenges head on, even if you didn't think you'd succeed. Euphrasie (smiling3): You were the only logical choice, yes, but you were also the only RIGHT choice! Mirabelle (sad2): Head Housemaiden... Mirabelle (gentle1): No, Euphrasie... Thank you!!!

Mirabelle credits Euphrasie for the person she is today, but Euphrasie turns that back and gives credit to Mirabelle's own strengths. It's just, very cute. She might have taught Mirabelle her literal skills, but the determination and bravery were all Mirabelle's own.

This scene also demonstrates that the bond goes both ways. Euphie loves Mira right on back, and considers Mira to be "stinking cute!" which even the Change God Themself agrees with. She's so proud of Mira!

I also wanna point to the switch from Mira using Euphie's title, to then using Euphie's name after Euphie reaffirms how proud she is of Mira. Throughout the entire adventure, Mirabelle's unwitting deception (that she had been blessed by the Change God instead of by Euphie) had weighed down on her, and Mirabelle kept questioning why she was the one who had to go on this journey, when Euphrasie would have been so much better at it. Like she stole Euphie's spot.

I think that bled into the relationship, here, that she kept imagining Euphrasie being disappointed in her, so she uses the title to make some distance to that mental image. It shows off how distant and unreachable Euphrasie is.

(It's also just a good show of politeness from Mirabelle. Like, if I'm talking to my mother, I'll call her Mama, but if I am talking about her to someone else, I'll say "my mother", as demonstrated by the first part of this sentence.)

Lastly, really minor thing: apparently, Euphrasie is looking into dual Craft types! That's one of the random papers on her desk.

(It's an essay about the 3.5% of people who are dual Craft types users, like Mirabelle.)

That makes me think she started reading on it because of Mirabelle, which is cute.

Generally, the basis of their relationship is very much mentor-student, yet it goes much deeper than that with Euphrasie's big role in raising Mirabelle. TLDR: they love each other, your honor. Fambly.

Claude

Second on the agenda, Mirabelle's roommate, Claude!

Lookin at Claude. It's obvious they're romantically involved. The first hint is the letter on Euphie's desk, of course, but that could imply this is a recent situation, too.

(It's a lovely, cheesy, mushy love letter from someone named Claude.)

Except, well, no. The letter isn't sealed, otherwise Siffrin wouldn't be able to pick it up and skim it if they had to open it first. It was already open, meaning Euphrasie already read it.

And, in Act 6:

Claude: Okay! We'll come and say hi later, then. I'll need to go and plant a big kiss on Euphie, anyway.

Claude mentions how she has to give Euphie a big kiss, which you wouldn't exactly do with someone you only just confessed to. Meaning the relationship has been ongoing for a while now, and also implying that Claude still writes love letters to Euphie, or that Euphie kept Claude's initial confession on her desk, both options make them big saps, which is really cute.

Also also, Claude's the only one to call Euphie Euphie, an endearing nickname.

I also touched on before how Claude was the only one to also prepare for the King's attack by making the bomb, and...

Mirabelle (sad1): I... used to think she should've become a Defender, because she was always helping people, and trying out weird experiments to solve their problems... Mirabelle (sad2): And she would always, ALWAYS help the Head Housemaiden with hers. Mirabelle (sad2): Always trying new ways to organize her desk... To help her finish tasks... To make sure she'd get some free time... Mirabelle (sad2): She'd do it with a smug smile, saying it wasn't that big of a deal, that she'd do it for anyone, but... Mirabelle (sad2): If she knew that the Head Housemaiden was in danger... She would've ran anywhere, everywhere, so she could help her. Mirabelle (sad2): Not only because the Head Housemaiden would've solved anything, would've beaten the King if she could, but because... Mirabelle (sad3): Because... Mirabelle (sad3): . . . Mirabelle (sad3): If Claude is this far into the House, she must've... tried to stop the King herself, so he wouldn't get to the Head Housemaiden.

Mirabelle trails off on that last "because" concerning Claude's motivation to go rushing to Euphrasie, and I think, considering the love letters, we can guess what that was. It's quite evident from Mirabelle's words that the two are super close. "[t]hat she'd do it for anyone, but... If she knew the Head Housemaiden was in danger... She would've ran anywhere, everywhere, so she could help her."

Mirabelle's framing of it reveals that Claude wouldn't do those things for just anyone. That Euphrasie is special to her.

In both ISAT and SASASAP, Claude is the last frozen NPC you find, the closest to the King. Her bomb wasn't finished, but it's telling that Claude carries the Secret Ingredient on her person. Whatever it is, she probably nabbed it from her room and set out to help Euphrasie in her fight against the King any way she could.

I guess the summary here is more simple, but the devotion on display is amazing. Like, again, the bomb wasn't done, Claude had NO weapons to speak of, but came rushing in anyway, because Euphrasie was in danger. She loves her girlfriend so much!! They're mushy and silly and affectionate, and, if Claude is the one organizing Euphie's desk, did Claude keep her love letter on display just to show off? Again, it's. It's cute! It's a lot of environmental storytelling for an NPC!!

Wah. Clauphie are so cute. We don't see Euphrasie talk about Claude at all (because Euphrasie does have more uhhh pressing things to worry about), but just, from the letter on the desk, it's gotta be reciprocated.

There's just so much to speculate about how things went down when the King "attacked out of nowhere", because Euphrasie is at the top of the House. Even when the King is defeated and the House returns to normal, it's still the roof. So, did she draw him up there on purpose to give everyone else time to escape?

I personally think Euphrasie was probably frozen first, with Claude rushing in second. So she did hold him off as long as she could, and that sacrifice allowed Mirabelle to escape in the first place. Nothing would've been possible without her. Euphie feels so much guilt for what she's done, but Mirabelle and Siffrin would not have suceeded without her, okay. She's instrumental.

Which is less about Claude and more about Euphrasie's importance, but hey, this is my essay, and I can be as uncoordinated as I want.

The Job

Last thing I wanna touch on!! Just a fun lil thing.

What the hell is a Head Housemaiden anyway?

Mirabelle and Isabeau react scandalized at the notion of people sharing shrines, so it seems unlikely that the House functions anything like a church at all. Every Housemaiden has a personalized figure of the Change God that they pray to in private, as we see from Mirabelle talking about them, in addition to basically every room in the House having one, down to people making more in pottery class. So, it's suuuper unlikely that the Head Housemaiden has much of a religious function. Spreading the good word, maybe, but actually leading prayer? No way.

Odile (wonder1): We make shrines for our gods, and everyone shares the shrines. Isabeau (huhwah1): SHARING GODS............

She seems to have a much more logistical function, being more like. The manager of the House. This is a files thing, but the map for her room is actually called "admin". She also has a lot of quote unquote boring administrative papers on her desk that Siffrin doesn't care about. Makes one wonder how the position is selected, whether one is elected into the office, or it's just whoever wants to do the paperwork to keep the House running.

(It looks like boring administrative papers.) (It's a petition to serve more bread at lunch.)

Mirabelle (happy1): She manages the House and makes sure everyone is happy and fulfilled! She organizes a lot of events too!

Among things such as "what to serve at lunch" and "organizing events", she's more like the headmaster of a community college, especially considering how heavy the House just resembles a community center. Less of a religious institution, more just a place to host fun classes and a living space for all who need it.

It's hard to tell whether Euphie demands a lot of respect due to her person and office, or it's just Mirabelle specifically that respects her most, since most of what we know of the House and its people is filtered through Mirabelle's perspective.

Speculation!

It's headcanon time, babey.

Yup, after straying close to actual facts for so long, I wanna get speculative. You're probably already gonna know islander theory. (And if you don't, go read that. This is like, the third time I linked it.)

But I wanna like, talk about how that influences how I read Euphrasie a lot!! I didn't go in-depth with that aspect in the og theory post but you can swear to any god you believe in that I've thought so so much how this enhances other aspects of who she is and stands for and also SHOUTOUT TO OCEAN!!! WHO ALSO THINKS ABOUT THIS SO MUCH!!! And again in fact thought about all of this before I did and is also someone who talk about excessively about this. AND ALSO GOT TO PREVIEW A GOOD CHUNK OF THIS ESSAY and motivated me to finish this eheh.

Anways! I wanna circle back to some points here first!

That whole past vs future thing

You might recall how I compared Euphie and the King a lot, esp between their respective roles in ISAT and SASASAP being pretty identical. And I said the King represents the past, as he is literally frozen in time, choosing to remember what he has lost instead of living in the present, and Euphrasie represents the future, which can only arrive when she is permitted to be her own person!

So yeah, uh, how's that feel when you suppose that they're from the same country, and thus, suffered the same loss.

Reading Euphrasie with this HC in mind opens up a very neat second parallel to Siffrin. King is someone who can't let go of the country, and Siffrin is torn between not wanting to let go and knowing they have to. So to put them up against someone who has let go is just pretty nifty.

Euphrasie is content with her life and the culture she lives in, even being a pillar of the community! Whereas King is a 'bad end' counterpart, Euphie, in her Showing The Future Function, is the 'good end' counterpart for that, showing that someone in Siffrin's situation can overcome their grief and find new fulfillment.

The End

So! That's everything I got on Euphrasie! She represents The End, but just as you gotta break an egg to make an omelette, she represents new beginnings, too. Her agency and freedom are change itself.

Mirabelle (hm3): It's to remind us that before changing, we must stop and think about what will be irreparably destroyed. Mirabelle (hm1): But destruction is just a part of change, and we must accept it... Isabeau (brag1): Yeah! It'd be awful to keep yourself from becoming a person you feel comfortable with just because it would upset someone else. Odile (huh1): Huh... That's a harsher belief than I thought.

In conclusion, I love her. This has been 7.4k words. Good night!

[thebluester2020]

Ok loved the Seb maid post, but now I’m curious about the other Bachelors having a maid kink 👀 Your work is 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Thank you for the compliment, anon! Thankfully, I have a whole laundry list for the bachelors and how they'd be with a maid!reader <3 (Sorry this took so long to get out anon! Thanksgiving break + getting ready for finals, and Christmas has me in a chokehold rn 😔)

Warning(s): Rough Sex (For Shane and Alex mostly tbh), Munch Elliot, Sub!Harvey,

SDV Bachelors Having A Maid Kink

Shane

Y'all already know I have beef with this man so I'll start the slander early.

He's putting you to work, you're going to earn your paycheck when he comes into the cafe. And not through breaking your back trying to fulfill his seemingly never-ending orders of drinks, or him inviting you over to do cutesy hand signs, oh no, that's just part of the job.

I'm talking, he'll be the last customer to leave, and why? Because he has to fulfill his trope of being the "Ugly Bastard" that's always spotted in those NTR mangas (aka bending you over the cashier counter while fucking you to the point of nearly being braindead, all while you tell him how much you just loooveeee your master)

♡ - "C'mon maid, it's like you're not even trying to earn a fat tip."

This guy had been in the cafe since the early evening. For a while now, he'd been watching you and practically breaking your back with the amount of requests he'd been giving you! From requesting drink after drink after drink, to inviting you over to perform little love songs and even draw hearts in his drinks. It'd been non-stop and you were nearly sick of it! So sick of it in fact, that you hadn't even noticed how your customer had been practically eye-fucking you your entire shift. He imagined bending you over and fucking you stupid on almost every piece of furniture available in the cafe.

But his favorite location so far? The cashier counter.

The idea of someone walking in and witnessing him plow the cutest maid of the cafe until she was sobbing for more of his dick had him sporting the biggest hard-on he's ever had in his life.

Luckily, however, his dreams and fantasies seem to be coming true more often lately.

"F-Fuck!" You whined when Shane suddenly slapped your ass, your eyes beginning to well up with tears from the pain as it started to mix in with the pleasure, his cockhead bullying your poor cervix as you grabbed at the edge of the counter for dear life. Shane chuckled when one of your hands came behind you to weakly push at his thigh, hoarse whines and moans of 'Gimme a break' leaving your kiss-swollen lips. "You sure you want a break cutie?" He cooed. "You look like you're enjoying my cock soooooo much though~" As he leaned down, he pressed some of his weight down onto you, his hot breath fanning against your ear as his hands on the sides of your waist pulled you onto his cock even harder.

"If you really want a break, then beg your master a bit more properly."

You sucked in a breath, your pussy clenching harder around Shane's length at the way his words rolled off his tongue. "Well?" He panted, grabbing at your hair to pull your head up so he wouldn't miss anything you said. And eventually, you shook your head, a laugh nearly erupting from Shane as you had basically admitted to him that you loved his cock way too much to even think of a break.

And since that was the case— "Get your hand off my thigh then slut," He tsked. You gasped when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides, using the new leverage to fuck into you even harder, tearing groans and high-pitched whines from your throat as the feeling of the veins along the sides of Shane's thick cock rubbed against your walls threatened to make your head spin. "L-Love your cock...!" You said, a brainless giggle leaving your mouth at the end. One that nearly made Shane gasp with how much harder he suddenly got at your words and how shamelessly you said them.

"What was that?" Impossibly, he fucked you even harder, the fat of your ass rippling at the sheer force of his thrusts, creating a delicious scene that Shane struggled to take his eyes off of as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "Say that again."

"M-Master..." You moaned. "L-Love your cock!" Your thighs trembled at the force of your impending orgasm, drool dribbling down the corner of your lips as the knot in the pit of your stomach grew almost unbearably hot. "Iloveitloveitloveitloveittttt!" Your customer smirked at your crying devotion to his dick, his grip around your wrists tightening as a deep groan escaped his throat with how you suddenly squirted all over his dick, your gushing heat pushing him to his own orgasm as he suddenly pressed himself as deep as he could go into your pussy.

A long sigh drew out of your lips, your forehead falling against the counter as you moaned softly to the feeling of your customer's thick cum filling up your insides.

By far, he had to be your favorite master.

Elliot

King of Respect. Very mindful, very demure.

His kink comes in the form of the trope of "Maid does a poor job of cleaning so the master has to teach her how to do her job correctly".

You accidentally spilled tea on Elliot's lap while serving it to him? No problem! Not only would he help you clean, but he'd even give you tips on how to properly serve and clean up your messes, how generous!

In a more straightforward term, it's Elliot being the classical munch.

♡ - Your customer was really good at teaching you how to be a better maid.

When you had accidentally spilled tea on his lap earlier, you had expected him to be angry and cause such a commotion that it'd spark your boss to come out of his office and fire you on the spot! But, he hardly flinched when the room-temperature tea touched him, simply waving it off with a smile and telling you not to worry your head about it.

In fact...he was even willing to teach you how to properly serve tea, as well as how not to spill it so clumsily! And this teaching was, by far, the best one you could have ever gotten from a customer you had just met twenty minutes prior. "Mmm...don't spill the tea dear," Your customer warned from behind you as he sucked your cute clit, slurping up your juices and licking his lips like a dog would lick its chops after a meal. "Otherwise, we'd have to reset the timer, and that wouldn't be fun for you...wouldn't it?" You whined at the feeling of Elliot's long tongue fucking in and out of your cunt, the teacup on top of the serving plate shaking so loudly that you feared someone would come in to witness you being eaten out by a customer.

However, Elliot was good with stealing away any such frivolous thoughts when his fingers began to tease your sex while his lips teasingly kissed your thighs and ass. "Keep still dear," You almost hear the smirk on his ridiculously soft lips. "The cup sounds like it's about to fall~" A shudder ran throughout your body when Elliot suddenly stuck a finger inside of you while his other hand came to massage your ass.

You, oh so badly, wanted to tell your customer to hurry up and make you cum. For the last ten minutes or so, you'd been dangling on the ultra-fine line between cumming and not cumming, each time you'd clench your twitching cunt around Elliot's fingers or your clit would throb in his mouth, he'd suddenly tear himself away and smirk in your face like a wicked fox!

"You can't cum just yet, you haven't learned how to properly do you job yet..." He'd say it in such an alluring voice that it was useless to try and talk back to him, to bat your eyes and attempt to convince him to make you cum. Not that you were complaining exactly, such a handsome man eating you out? His eyes hooded as he focused intensely on his work of making you feel as if you were always seconds away from cloud nine.

And rapidly, you were beginning to approach that peak once again. "M-Master..." You whispered as seductively as you could in the moment without sounding like a shaken-up rabbit. "Please...let me cum," You begged, shaking your ass ever so slightly in an attempt to have his fingers dig further into you.

You clenched when he hummed against you, his fingers leaving your weeping sex with a lewd 'pop'. "Hm...should I?" He moaned when he licked your slick off of his fingers, your taste only making him strain even harder against his slacks. "Have you learned how to properly do your job dear?" You nodded your head all too eagerly, panting out a series of 'Yesyesyesyes!' to your lover as you watched him through blurry eyes slowly stand up from his position behind you. Your tongue licked across your bottom lip as Elliot started to undo his belt.

"If that's the case, I suppose we should put your words to the test, hm?"

Sam

Similar to Sebastion, but I think he would like the possibly of "corrupting" a maid. When he went with Sebastion to Zuzu City and saw how you were doing such a good job, being nice and polite to the customers and generally just being so pretty that he could hardly believe his eyes.

All he could wonder was "What if I molded her to be the perfect maid for me?"

And so he did, classic blondie with blue eyes style, he flirted his way until you (during your work shift mind you!) led him to the storage room in the back and flipped up your skirt for him without a second thought.

♡ - "You're sooooo pretty, miss~"

Amid the lewd sound of your customer's balls slapping against your clit, your skirt flipped up to reveal your ass as your customer currently groped your chest over your clothes. He'd been repeating that same sentence to you for the last few minutes since you had snuck him into the breakroom! Choked-up moans and high-pitched whines tore from your throat as he fucked you into the breakroom's dirty couch, all as if you were some cheap whore!

And to be frank, you might as well have been one at this moment.

Your customer was just too charming when he flirted with you so shamelessly as you worked, nearly forgetting all about his poor friend who eyed you up and down just as much as the blonde did! Thankfully for Sam, however, you found his charms to be just a little cuter, which is why he was balls-deep inside of you right now, cooing all sorts of cute praises in your ear as he hugged your body to his torso like he was afraid that you'd disappear the second he eased up.

"S-Such a cute fucking pussy..." Sam whined in your ear, his rhythm beginning to stutter as he felt himself approaching his high almost embarrassingly fast. "Please...pleasepleaseplease let me cum inside baby," He pleaded. Your cunt tightened around his length at his begging, a gasp leaving your lips when Sam's hand traveled from your breasts to flip up your skirt even more, all so he could rub your throbbing clit. "Fuck!" You cried at the almost mind-numbing pleasure.

Your pulse raced in your ears, your juices dripping from your pussy even more now that he was rubbing your clit like he was just begging for you to go insane! Your arms started to shake, your head lifting tiredly to look over your shoulder at the tear-eyed blonde as you could've sworn you saw hearts form in his eyes when he opened them to look at you. "T-Too much..." You whined. "Baby, please...you're so fucking deep...c-can't handle...it!"

"Yes you can," He insisted before pressing his lips against yours. He whispered a soft 'you have to' against your lips as his lithe fingers increased their movement on your clit even more, constantly switching between a pace of teasingly slow and mind-numbingly fast. Your hand shot to Sam's wrist, fruitlessly trying to get him to slow down before you had let out a drawn-out moan against Sam's lips as you climaxed. Your cunt clenching so impossibly tight on his cock that the blonde could only manage a few more thrusts before he stilled against you with a groan.

The warmth of his cum flooding your insides almost made you sleepy, along with your shaky arms and how tired you were, it only increased that feeling by tenfold as you hesitantly parted your lips from your customer's, a single string of spit still connecting the both of you as Sam held a lovesick look in his eyes.

He took a moment to further catch his breath before he spoke. "When...when do you get off? So I can see you again."

Alex

Okay so hear me out, I can't see Alex going to a maid cafe but—

I can see his grandparents hiring a maid to help out around the house. Every day from 9am to 7pm.

The way you so sweetly helped out his grandparents made his heart skip beats, and the way his grandmother referred to you as a daughter only solidified his budding crush on you!

The final nail in the coffin, however? It was when you were cleaning his room and, in the middle of you changing his bedsheets, the sight of you bent over his bed nearly made him dizzy with how fast blood rushed to his dick.

It was only natural that he decided to fuck you on his bed while his grandparents were out!

♡ - You loved working for Evelyn and George.

When you first came to the valley searching for a job, the older couple hired you without a second thought! And they paid extremely well for such an otherwise simple job description, all you had to do was clean the house, cook a few meals when Evelyn was unable, and even occasionally help Evelyn water her plants! It was the perfect job, and that wasn't even taking into consideration that the couple's grandson was very handsome.

And he thought the same way about you as well. After a long day of working, sometimes he'd be blessed by Yoba enough to spot your skin shiny with sweat. The sight of droplets falling in between the valley of your breasts when he'd see you sitting down for a moment to catch your breath, tired from an hour straight of cleaning...his cock would get hard so fast that it nearly left him dizzy.

Suddenly, he couldn't function right if he didn't quickly excuse himself to go masturbate in the shower, imagining your mouth sucking on his cockhead as he gently coaxed you into taking him even further into your mouth. Your hands bracing yourself against his muscled thighs as the warmth of your tight mouth would eventually have him finishing inside and down your throat.

Alas, it was only a daydream.

Until it wasn't, one day he walked in on you changing his bedsheets, your dress unknowingly riding up your ass as you bent over to fit the sheets onto his bed. The poor guy nearly passed out from how hard he got! Luckily for him and you, he was able to release all that pent-up tension he had for you on you. Which left him with the only viable option left—

Fuck you like a dog on his bed! And thankfully, Alex's grandparents were out.

"Fuucckk..." Alex moaned into your ear, his body currently curled over yours as his arms wrapped around you to pull you even tighter against his body. Your cunt was addicting, in fact, he almost felt insulted that you were walking around his grandparents' house with such an unbelievably tight pussy! Pliant and eager to take every inch of his dick while making the lewdest noises.

"Maybe you should quit being a maid, huh?" He purred in your ear.

You gasped when he nipped the shell of your ear, your arms beginning to shake more and more as Alex fucked into your cunt even harder. His thick length was rubbing against allll the right spots inside of you. "C-Can't handle—Fuck!"

Alex laughed. "C-Can't handle? What?" He mocked you. "My dick? Maybe you shouldn't have looked so good bent over my bed." You could imagine a smirk decorating his face as you felt his dick twitch inside of you, the embarrassing sounds of your pussy seeming to grow louder as you rapidly approached your orgasm. Yet when his cockhead began to batter against your cervix, that delicious sting of pain made you crumble over as you submitted to your sudden orgasm. "Fuck yeah, juussttt like that~"

Alex's hands grabbed at your skin as he leaned back, situating his hands on your hips to pull you back onto his cock even harder as he enjoyed the sight of your gushing pussy practically having a seizure on his cock. When you whined from overstimulation, however, Alex couldn't help but sigh, he almost felt bad that he had to ignore your cute whines for the moment! It was far too hard for him to part from your cute cunt just yet, especially when he wasn't even close to his orgasm. "Bear with me for a little longer, will you pretty?" He chuckled.

"I'm not even close to being finished with you yet~"

Harvey

Kinda similar to Elliot and Alex's in a way? You were hired to help keep his place cleaning, after all, being a doctor meant that Harvey had an extremely busy schedule and thus couldn't be at home all the time!

When he first met you, he already thought you were super kind-hearted and seemed extremely dedicated to your job. He couldn't help how he developed a little bit of a liking towards you at first meeting!

But, like any man, there was always a fall.

And his fall came pretty fast when he came home a little earlier than usual one day, you were on your knees wiping some spilled cleaning fluid off the wooden floorboards.

The outline of your underwear against your dress was so lewd that Harvey fell like a stack of cards against the wind.

♡ - A pair of writhing bodies were on the floor, moaning and panting as hands ran over each other's respective bodies and beads of sweat dripped down their skins. Harvey had a mind to feel bad with how quickly he suggested you clean something else when he had spotted you on the ground, yet luckily for him, you were willing and all too eager to take up a new cleaning task.

One that quickly turned from you sucking him off to you now fucking him like a bitch in heat on the floor, your face tucked into the side of his neck as your ass slapped against his thighs, his hands grasping at your sides desperately in order to further aid you in fucking yourself on his dick.

"Y-Yoba Y/N...t-too fast...!" His moans were so cute, you thought.

But so unbecoming of your master! He was the one who sported an obvious hard-on when you had turned your head to see him staring at your ass so obviously! The least he could do was handle your speed as you fucked him on the floor. "Bear with it, won't you master~?" You pressed a sloppy kiss on his lips, his mustache tickling your face a little before you pressed a hand on his chest to raise yourself up a little. Your cunt clenched tighter around him at the lewd sight before you, your master being flushed in the face with lipstick marks all over him!

Cute pants and whines choked out of his throat along with confused babbling for you to both fuck him harder as well as slow down! It was quite the ego-booster, having a usually composed doctor be so easy to ruin with your pussy. "Oh please, master—" You leaned back down to whisper in Harvey's ear as you slowed down just as he requested, instead grinding back against his cock which seemed to make the doctor whine and grab your hips even louder. "—try to bear with me a little longer, will you please? You're too cute to let go of!" You giggled, your laughter quickly turning into gasping moans as your master started to fuck back up into you.

A tight knot quickly started to form in his stomach, sending him into a spiral of almost blinding pleasure as your pussy was practically begging to suck the cum out of his cock!

He tried to hold back, a weak and needless attempt to impress you more than he already had, but when you had kissed him, tangling your fingers into his hair. That was all he needed before he stilled against you with a muffled cry.

You sighed at the warmth that flooded inside of you, gently fucking yourself on Harvey a little more in an attempt to milk even more of his cum out of him before he whispered 'Too sensitive' against your lips. Thus, you gave him a little reprieve with a smirk. "You've been holding out on me doctor," You chuckled. "We definitely can't stop here!" Your urge to fuck yourself stupid on him grew even more when his eyes widened like a confused puppy's.

You had a new job assignment, fuck your master until he made you dumb on his dick, of course!

[eccentricallygothic]

Pairing: Eric Northman | Hunter's Daughter!You. 

Warning(s): Smut, m!Dom, f!sub, kissing, makeshift bondage, tongue play, feeding, minor blood play, Eric's fat cock, nipple play, unprotected p-in-v, probably fear kink, human x vampire, forbidden lovers trope, dirty talk, age gap (lmfao). MDNI.

Note: Idk if Eric's in anymore but my kid sister wants to watch True Blood so I showed her the trailer and here we are. Unedited because I've class in a few hours and I am exhausted~

It is dangerous, prohibited, condemned by nature herself. 

And yet, that has never been enough to stop you. 

As you stand in the chilly late evening air in the spot reserved for your meetings with your forbidden love, a shiver breaks out through your body but the reassurance that it would soon be compensated for by the electric touch of the main you await is enough to console you. 

You are looking in the opposite direction of that of your pursuer when he does arrive, his tall figure approaching you faster and quieter than you can process. 

Your surprised gasp doesn't make Eric falter as he zooms to one of his favorite spots to spend time with you in, your smaller body safely tucked in his muscular arms and pressed tightly against his chest. 

The moment your body touches the sturdy ground of the mountaintop on which the silver moonlight shines in the most fascinating way, Eric doesn't allow you a moment to stop and marvel at the scenery. Instead, his desperate hands and hungry lips are on you all at once. His inhuman speed only serves his depraved intentions. 

“Hello to you too—” your cheeky giggle is suppressed against his lips the moment you speak and his cold blue eyes flicker up to yours from the diversion of attention your sweet voice causes for him. 

Eric doesn't have to say it. You can hear it in his cross growls as he relieves you of your clothing by pushing your shirt and bra all the way up to your elbows until you're in a makeshift bondage and your damp pants are laying beside you. He is not happy with how long he has had to wait for you this time. 

You whimper out into his mouth in response, moaning at the feeling of his warm tongue dancing with yours as you lift your crotch to grind against his very stiff one. The waver in your breath is your silent apology as it is clear by now that Eric will not allow you any words tonight. He doesn't when he's not pleased with you, as apologies just sound like lousy excuses to him. And you are not one who dares to challenge him when he is already unhappy with you. Because you have made that mistake a handful of times, and each time, tears and snot were made your best companions. 

Eric's hungry kisses now travel down your chin and along your jaw as the hand that is not fondling your chest feels for your neck now, one of his knees having already expertly parted your legs for his body to slot between. Your throat goes dry from excitement as you look up at the stars, craning your head to the side to give him more access to the junction of your shoulder but arching your back from how his hot lips tickle your tender skin.

Eric growls again once he reaches his spot of choice and sticks his balmy tongue out to lick at the mark you hide under hair and turtlenecks. A cry escapes you when he reproaches you by choking your poor nipple out between his fingertips. When his cold blue eyes come up to glare at you once more, you pout and lean your weeping sex into his covered cock. 

You know why he is unhappy. It has been weeks since your last meeting thanks to your family of hunters that you have to keep as far away from your relationship as possible. One wrong move and everything you have built brick by brick in convincing your father that you had broken things off with the golden haired beast that loomed over you would come tumbling down. You furrow your eyebrows in an earnest manner, trying to get him to understand. It is not like you like being away from him. 

Eric finally relents, for now, when his thick cock twitches inside his pants and he leans down to lick his mark on you again, distastefully grunting at how it has healed from when he last had you. 

Your eyes flutter close from the feeling. Need sparks to life in your torso and snakes its way down your spine before spreading over your loins and dying into the mess you've made between your legs. Blood pumps through your ears in anticipation of what is going to come any second now. The faint clink of Eric's belt coming undone sounds somewhere in your lust stricken stupor and you bite your lip at the same time your ancient lover copies your action except into the delicate skin of your neck.

“Ah!” Is all you can let out as you feel his thick fangs slide into the patchiness of the ditched they created into your flesh a while back. The feeling of him tearing into you has you releasing more slick. You feel your cunt ache and your hole blinks from the way the suckling of his lips makes your head spin. 

Eric places his stiff tip against your opening with his free hand while still feeding on you, taking his sweet time and savoring your taste. You whine out again and your gaping pussy tries to retract defensively. Your cruel lover refuses to prepare you today, it seems. And while it doesn't really surprise you because he tends to do that as a way of exercising his ire on your tight little cunt on days like today, it hurts nevertheless. 

Besides, your pussy is way too small to take his cock as is. 

His groan into your skin makes your whole being reverberate as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Eric detaches his lips from your skin at last to let out a grunt when your stubborn opening keeps refusing him access, instead causing his tip to glide off over and over. 

You try your best to will your entrance to take him, but your tiny band is a brat, as Eric likes to call it. 

“I wonder what your proud father would say if he saw his prodigal daughter like this” Eric's broad shoulders shake from his bitter mirth as he enjoys the pained expression on your face when he moves back on his knees and forces you to slide down his hard shaft. “Mouth covered in her own blood and pussy clamped around the cock of his arch nemesis…” Your back arched as your petals hit the skin of his balls and his cock twitched deep inside your velvet cavern. “Mind too stupid for any dignified resolve” his long fingers gently stroked the strands covering your face away. “Do you want any such resolve, little one?”

A whimper escapes you when he snatches one of your hips in one hand and snakes his other arm around your back to lift you up and against him. Your pussy clenches when your eyes meet and you moan when he presses his blood covered lips to yours again, smearing the metallic liquid into your mouth with his tongue. It only makes you slot your trapped arms around his neck before you pull him closer. 

“N- No, Eric! O- Only—” the vehemence with which you shook your head was a humiliating one for a sober person. “Only you!” You screamed out as he lifted you off his cock, your pussy squelching soundly in the process, before slamming you down on his sack again.

[minisugakoobies]

The Purrfect Crime | HJS

Pairing: Joshua x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, angst (tiny bit?), crack , non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: neighbor is implied to be a horrible pet owner but i promise there is no abuse here, catnapping, they're idiots and they're in love, so much pining, that trope where you have to kiss someone in order to fool someone else, apparently it's called a fake-out make-out thanks true tropes wiki, i don't even know where this sudden need to write a soft joshua came from but enjoy

Word Count: 3.2k

Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Fed up with the way your neighbor is keeping your friend/his ex's cat just to spite him, you hatch a plan to rescue the poor creature. Naturally, your best friend (and crush) Joshua is in for the mission.

Text Prompt: in italicized pink font in the story

A/N: It took me a while to find a text prompt for Joshua, but as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was his. Thank you to @minttangerines and @kiestrokes for taking a look at this one and reminding me that variety is good.

If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Rrrrrow. Mmmmrowwwrrr.” 

“Oh, not again,” you mutter to yourself, rising from your couch to trudge to your back door. It’s starting early tonight.

You can barely see into the yard next door, but you spy a fluffy grey and white tail bobbing around. There he is. Your neighbor’s cat, yowling to be let inside, like always he does. The pitiful creature lets out another cry, and your heart twists. You know from years of living here that the jerk next door won’t be home for a while, so poor kitty is stuck outside in the rapidly cooling autumn air. Probably hungry for his dinner.

Well, you’ve had about enough of this. As you stand there, watching the cat’s tail swish in the air, the barest puff of an idea sneaks into your head. Before you can stop it, it blooms into a full-tilt plan. 

You’re already in motion when your phone buzzes with a text. Normally, you’d ignore it, but it’s your favorite person on the planet. 

Shua: whatcha doin

You: stealing my neighbor’s cat

Even though your best friend is famously down for any sort of drama, his response is so ridiculously fast that it makes you smile. 

Shua: scandalous

Shua: can I help

You send him a brief description of your plan, and he shoots back that he’s already on his way.

There’s a knock on your day exactly twenty minutes later, proof that he wasn’t lying. When you open the door, Joshua takes one look at you and points, nodding. “Yes, good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.” 

He’s referring to the fact that you’re both dressed completely in black, head to toe. The only difference between you is that he’s got a cute beanie shoved over his hair, a few strands hanging down in his eyes as he smiles at you. 

“I worried maybe I was taking this too seriously.” 

“Oh, no, this is very serious,” you inform him, leading him through your townhouse to the back door. “I’m really about to rescue Mr. Meepers from that asshole.” 

“Hell yeah, you a- wait, did you say Mr. Meepers?”

“Yes, I did, and yes, I know,” you laugh. 

Junhui, your horrible neighbor’s amazing ex-boyfriend, might not be the best when it comes to naming pets, but he’s a very sweet guy. While he and Mr. Asshole Next Door adopted the cat together, it was always very clear that he was Jun’s cat, and Jun’s cat alone. It breaks your heart to know that Mr. Meepers is being kept hostage solely for the purpose of punishing Jun for leaving that asshole.  

“He’s such a cute kitty, though, so friendly and playful, and Junhui’s really upset that he can’t get him back. That asshole won’t return his texts anymore. And the one time Jun showed up, he wouldn’t even answer the door.”

You pause to look out the window. Your yard and the one adjoining to the left are clear - or, at least as much as you can see over the fence seems empty.

“It’s bad enough that he won’t give Jun his pet back, but I know this jerk doesn’t take good care of him. He’s always locking him out in the yard. Doesn’t matter the time of day - I hear him out there all the time, crying and clawing at the patio door.” You frown. “Doesn’t matter what the weather’s doing and he doesn’t leave any water out for him, either. Just throws him outside and locks the door.”

As you ramble on, Joshua’s expression darkens. “I knew your neighbor was an asshole, but damn. That’s fucking cold.” He tips his head as another mournful “mrrrrooowww” sounds. “Is that him?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“He sounds so sad. How can that guy not care?”

“I dunno. Guess it’s easy to ignore innocent animals when you don’t have a heart.” You square your shoulders, steeling yourself for what you’re about to do. “Thanks to that loud-ass engine on his piece of shit car, I know when that asshole gets off work. He always stops at a bar on Friday nights, so he’ll be home later than usual, but we don’t have a lot of time to do this. Might not be a great idea to do it now, but…”

“But Mr. Meepers doesn’t deserve to suffer any longer. I get it.” Joshua squeezes your arm, bolstering you a little with his comforting touch. You smile at him gratefully, and he grins back before clearing his throat and turning to the window. “So. We’re gonna go out there and get him.”

“Right.” 

“Right. So… how exactly are we gonna do that?” 

“With some loose fence planks and these.” You reach into the pouch of your hoodie and pull out a small crinkled bag. “Mr. Meepers loves tuna treats. I toss them over the fence whenever I see him out there.” 

“Of course you do,” Joshua hums, shaking his head. He loves to tease you about how soft-hearted you can be, but you’d argue he’s just as gentle and kind as you are. He simply hides it better - except when he’s around you. You’ve yet to figure out if it’s intentional or if your friendship is the chip in his armor, allowing you to see through to the real him. 

“Well, Mr. Meepers doesn’t deserve to sit out there all hungry because that jerk doesn’t actually want him. All he wants is to hurt Jun.” There’s no real need to explain yourself, but you do it anyway. Joshua’s hand brushes your arm again and you inhale a calming breath. “Okay. Time’s not stopping, so let’s do this. Are you ready?” 

Joshua gives you a nod. “Let’s go.” 

Leaving your back door open a crack, in case you need to make a hasty retreat, the two of you set out on your mission. 

Your neighborhood is typically pretty quiet this time of evening. There’s the sound of kids playing in their yard a few doors down, and the usual buzz of traffic on the main road two blocks over, but nothing loud enough to cover your footsteps as you crunch through the grass and fallen leaves lining the fence that separates your yard from your neighbor’s. The moon is already out, and a few stars dot the sky, but you still need the flashlights on your phones to give you enough light to keep from tripping over anything in your path.

Joshua insists on being the one to try to pry the boards off the fence. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to pull a few away, a fact that makes him cluck his tongue. “This is so unsafe, YN. Your landlord needs to fix this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” You’ve got a whole list of breaking or broken items for the landlord to repair. It’s the effort - and, especially, the time - that it takes to call and wait around for him to show up that you don’t have. “I’ll get around to calling him someday.” 

“I’m being serious,” Joshua insists, the concerned furrow of his brow evident even in the dim glow cast by his phone. “It’s not safe. What if someone gets in this way? Like a burglar? Or - or worse?”

“Well, they’ll have to get into asshole’s yard first to get to mine this way…” The odds of someone breaking into your home via this now person-sized hole in the fence are incredibly low. But you’re not going to argue about it at the moment. Not when you can hear the worry in your friend’s voice. “You’re right. I’ll call him next week. After we’ve made sure Mr. Meepers is safe with Junhui.”

“Good. It’s just… I can’t even think about what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

Joshua’s look of relief is enough to send warmth flooding through your chest, but combined with his words, it has your heart launching into frantic palpitations. Quickly, you duck through the space in the fence, needing to move away from your friend for fear that he might be able to feel the fluttering. You’ve spent the better part of two years hiding your crush on your friend. No need to give yourself away now. 

A bright light suddenly clicks on.

“Crap!” you gasp. In a burst of panic, you dive back towards the gap in the fence, only to find Joshua there. He lets out a surprised cry as you crash into him, knocking him flat on his back, another tiny “oof” forced from his lungs when you land on top of him. “Sorry!”

“What are yommmmph-”

“Shhhh!” 

You press your hand over Joshua’s mouth and glance over your shoulder. Your neighbor’s yard is still, nothing that you can see through the hole moving except for some unkempt bushes swaying in the chilly evening air.

You sigh. “Sorry. I forgot he’s got a motion detector light. I panicked.” 

Joshua hums, the brush of his lips tickling your fingers, and you remove your hand with an embarrassed laugh. Now that your fright has passed, you’re painfully aware of your current position, lying chest to chest, hip to hip on top of your best friend. His arms are locked solidly behind your back, cradling you to him as if he’s still trying to break your fall. 

It’s impossible to turn away when he looks at you, even though your heart is twisting itself into knots, so filled with longing that it’s tying you up inside. The longer you gaze into his eyes, the more your heart aches. 

Completely unaware of the inner turmoil you’re currently facing, Joshua grins. “Next time we steal someone’s pet in an act of righteous retribution, maybe I’ll be the one to gather the important intel first. Like motion lights.” He laughs, and you can feel it through your chest against his. Your heart twists again. “You can be the muscle, with a tackle like that.” 

“Shut up,” you groan, trying to gracefully slide onto the grass beside him, without success.  “I didn’t hit you that hard.” 

“I don’t know, I think I’m gonna be feeling that tomorrow.” He rubs his left shoulder gingerly, but he can’t fool you. You smack his other shoulder and he gives up the bit, laughing. “Fine, fine, you’re not the muscle. But I’m definitely the brains of this team.” 

“Pffft. If you’re anything, you’re the face.” 

“The what?” 

“You know. In a heist crew, the face.” You stand up, brushing some dry leaves from your hoodie. “The smooth talker? The one they send in to charm a target. That’s you.” 

“Oh.” Joshua’s eyebrow rises as he considers your words. “Um, thank you?” 

“You’re welcome. It’s a compliment.” 

“Is it?” He cracks a grin when you lightly punch his shoulder again. “Sounds like a weird way to call me manipulative.” 

“Don’t read into it so deep,” you state wryly. “I only meant that you’re, like, a fast thinker. And good at talking to people.” And incredibly charming. Joshua’s had you wrapped around his finger for ages. Thank god he doesn’t seem to know it. If he ever realized his true power over you, he’d be totally insufferable. And you’d still do whatever he wanted.

“Uh-huh. But if it’s all about me being good at talking, then why is it called the ‘face?’” 

He would ask that. 

“Um… most of the time the face is also really good-looking. It helps, y’know, to sell the lie if it’s coming from a pretty face.”

“Pretty?” His fingers fly to the bottom of his beanie again, tugging it down further. A nervous habit of his. 

”Well, yeah,” you say, shrugging. “You are very pretty.” 

You ride the surge of adrenaline in your veins forward and step through the hole into the yard next door before Joshua can react. 

It turns out to be a blessing that your neighbor has a motion light. His backyard is an obstacle course of rusty lawn furniture, neglected plants, and overgrown tufts of weeds. Carefully, you wind your way towards the patio, only to realize that Mr. Meepers is no longer sitting there.

“Mr. Meepers?” you call out in a hushed yell. “Where’d you go?” You must’ve spooked the cat with your wild dive earlier.

“He couldn’t have gotten out of the yard, could he?”

“I don’t know. I always figured he couldn’t or he would’ve run away by now.” Taking the treats out of your pocket, you give the bag a shake. “I brought you some of your favorite num-nums!”

“Your favorite num-nums?” Joshua echoes incredulously. 

“Shut up or I’ll tackle you again,” you mutter, catching his smirk out of the corner of your eye. “Here, Mr. Meepers!” 

You shake the bag of treats again and a bush near the edge of the patio rustles in reply. Mr. Meepers comes striding out, tail flicking happily as he brushes against your outstretched fingers. 

“Mmmrowww,” he chirps.

“Hi buddy,” you reply, scratching his ears lightly. “Here are your num-nums as promised.” Mr. Meepers nibbles on his treats as you stroke your fingers over his soft fur. “This is gonna be the last time I’ll give you these. You wanna know why? Hmm? Because we are busting you out of here and taking you home! Doesn’t that sound good?” 

The cat purrs loudly, nosing at the bag in your hand, and you cave, giving him a few more treats.

“No wonder Junhui’s been so sad. You’re just the cutest little thing, aren’t you?”

“So cute.” 

The words are whispered breathlessly, so quietly you’re almost not sure you heard them right. You glance up at Joshua, only to find your friend staring at you with a curious look on his face, an expression that you can’t quite name but it makes your pulse jolt regardless. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay when he suddenly straightens up, shaking his head a little.

“We, uh, we should probably not linger here,” he says, fingers clutching at his beanie. 

It almost defies belief how quickly his words jinx the two of you. You’re about to pick up Mr. Meepers when you hear it - the sound of your neighbor’s front door opening.

“Fuck, he’s home!” you hiss. Fast as you can, you scoop Mr. Meepers into your arms, thankful that he trusts you enough not to fight. Joshua holds out his hand to help you up and you stumble clumsily to your feet, apologizing when you bounce off of him. 

“Forget it, just go!” 

Joshua’s fingers lace through yours as the two of you scramble madly towards the hole in the fence. He reaches it first, but doesn’t go through, urging you on, his hands pushing gently on your back the whole time. As soon as you’re clear, he pops through behind you. 

Mr. Meepers chooses that moment to start squirming. He wiggles out of your grip somehow and drops delicately to the ground. For a split second you’re afraid he’s going to bolt through the hole, but instead he darts across your lawn and into your open door.

Before you can follow, you hear the loud creak of your neighbor’s back door opening. You and Joshua both flatten yourselves against the fence, desperate not to be seen. 

“Dinner time, dummy!”

There’s a spike of anger in your anxiety. You really hate your neighbor. He doesn’t wait long for the cat to respond to his call, slamming his screen door shut a few seconds later. 

A few excruciatingly long seconds after that, the light goes out. Everything is quiet again, save for your slight hyperventilating.

You blink a few times. “Oh my god, I thought we wer-”

The screen door next door opens again. 

“Yo, dummy, where are you? It’s time to come in!”

Your neighbor’s head pops up over the fence as he walks out onto his patio.

Joshua grabs the rotten planks and shoves them back into place. In his race to cover up the hole, though, he’s a bit too careless, and pinches his thumb. “Shit!”

You freeze. 

“Mr. Meepers?” the asshole next door calls out. “Stupid cat, what are you getting into?”

You can’t breathe. The threat of being caught now when you’re so close to victory makes your heart skip several beats in fear. Then Joshua’s gaze meets yours, and your heart positively leaps as he springs into action, pressing you against the fence. 

“Just go with it,” he whispers. He doesn’t give you a chance to process his words before he’s cupping your face, and then he leans in and kisses you. It’s a little hasty, a little rushed, like desperation propels him forward. But when his hands drop to your waist, bringing the two of you closer together, you relax into one another. The kisses turn slow, lingering.  

Your eyes slip shut as you breathe him in, citrus and cardamom, his cologne so warm and sweet, just like his kisses. He’s covering your body with his own like he’s shielding you. Protecting you. You could simultaneously shout for joy and cry. 

“What was tha- oh - oh shit, ‘m sorry - “ 

Your neighbor’s voice sputters into silence, and then a few seconds later, the light goes out. Joshua keeps kissing you, arms on either side of your head, but his caresses are more playful now, teasing nudges of his nose against your cheek, tiny pecks on your lips. 

“Joshua.” You speak his name intending to ask what he’s doing, but it comes out like a whine. You’re flustered and Joshua laughs, clearly enjoying it.

“I don’t think he’s looking anymore,” he deadpans, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he cups your face.

“Okay,” you reply, leaning in for another kiss. Joshua’s laughter vibrates against your mouth as you clutch at his hoodie, trying to keep him close. He manages to pull away anyway.

“We should probably get inside before the cat gets out.” 

With that gentle reminder of why you’re out in your yard in the first place, the fog around your head dissipates. You look at your back door and find Mr. Meepers sitting right inside, staring at the two of you. 

“Right.”Joshua’s right, but he also hasn’t let go of you, and that is seriously affecting your ability to think right now. You try to pull yourself together. “Um. Joshua.” 

“Yeah?” 

Countless ideas flit through your brain, the majority of them involving kissing him again. 

“Thank you. For saving us. That was, um. That was good. And, it was…” You’re burning up, the back of your neck heating with a heady mix of desire and embarrassment at how you’re reacting to Joshua’s touch.

“It was what?”

“It was just… really good,” you trail off dumbly in a tiny voice.

He smirks. “Told you I was the brains.” 

You feel slightly sheepish when he laughs again, but you're quickly reassured when he kisses you softly.

“C’mon,” he says, taking your hand again. “Let’s finish your mission and get Mr. Meepers back home. Then maybe I’ll show you what else I’m thinking.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[star-girl69]

Don’t Delete The Kisses

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

—-

synopsis: after breaking someone’s heart as apart of your initiation into the aphrodite cabin, you don’t think love is meant for you after your cruelty. clarisse thinks you’re ridiculous.

a/n: my friend was talking about how like insane this song makes her and i was like oh so this is genius

Don’t Delete The Kisses - Wolf Alice

warnings: insecure and very sad y/n ☹️, so like yeah all of that stuff, very ooc clarisse but IDC, i hate everyone but you trope fr, more talking about our feelings which we know is very hard for clarisse, the usual mentions of death and weapons, all that demigod stuff, more clarisse wanting, clarisse is insane as always i love her my ladybug fr, swearing, mentions of food, crap ton of violence, broken noses, whole bunch of blood, teeth get knocked out, yeah, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“Well, did you do it?”

You wanted to sneak into the Aphrodite cabin silently, hoping your pink jacket would blend into the walls and hide you. But that was just wishful thinking. That was just something you whispered to yourself on the walk back to comfort your shaking body, wiping away the tears.

This is your initiation. They’re all sitting on their beds, waiting with eager eyes, greedy for a taste of someone else’s suffering, the comfort of knowing it’s not their own.

“Yes,” you say, pretending tears don’t rim your eyes.

You stand stall, shutting the cabin door behind you.

“I did it.”

Your sister Drew stands up and grabs your hand. You think she might comfort you. You think she might tell you Carter was in it all along, you didn’t really hurt him, it was all some elaborate prank.

Instead, she raises your hand up in the air and turns towards the rest of your siblings.

“Y/N!” she says, “Daughter of Aphrodite!”

Your siblings clap and cheer, smiling widely- one of the younger girls runs right up to you and hugs you, face in your stomach.

“You played him so good,” she giggles, pigtails swinging in the air. She is so naïve, so young, so unknowing. You wonder if you can give yourself amnesia if you slam your head into the column holding up the cabin.

You would do anything to forget this night. To forget the look on Carter’s face. He fell in love with you and you let your siblings guide you on what to do, what to say, you let them dress you up and and put pretty bows in your hair that he reached out to touch.

He thought he would end the night with a kiss, but instead he ended the night with your hand in his face, scoffing animatedly and asking “How could he ever think a daughter of Aphrodite could like him?”

You could feel his heart break, and you could feel your mother ghosting around the wind, you could feel the muscles in your face strain as your eyes filled with tears.

You wrap your arms around your younger sister and force yourself to chuckle.

“His face was so funny,” you say, but there was an unintended action to your initiation. Your heart broke too. You saw the look on his face- if that is how losing love feels then you never want to give yourself the chance to lose it.

Besides, it’s not like you could ever deserve love after this. The love your siblings crave but never quite get. True, encompassing, all-consuming love. After this night, after the hatred coiling up in your stomach like a snake, it’s just not meant for you.

—-

Everyone at Camp calls you princess.

It made you feel like a baby, weak, like you were nothing but a pretty face. But no matter how much you flinched at the nickname, grimaced when you found yourself answering to its call, no one stopped.

Your siblings all cooed and said it was so fitting, saying with curled lips that you were most definitely Aphrodite’s favorite. Your hair always fell in the most beautiful way, your makeup always stayed and looked beautiful, you know you can’t walk through camp without someone looking at you.

Especially after your charmspeak developed, you became a shell of yourself, scared constantly like you are just a walking knife, doomed to cut anyone you come near.

You’re not that different from your siblings- the only difference is you won’t ever lead someone on. You won’t ever make anyone thing they have a chance. Because you’ll never break someone’s heart again.

You’re still Aphrodite’s daughter, you still like to look pretty. So, you do your makeup and your hair, you revel in the feelings of eyes on you but you choose your words carefully.

But other than that, you despise love, your mother, everything about the Aphrodite Cabin.

But you suck it up, you let boys fix your posture, let them teach you to fight while they dream of kissing you, and you work silently and you wait to get out of this hellhole Camp.

You stay silent and you let them realize that you’re just simply not interested in a relationship. They’re sad, but their hearts aren’t broken.

Everybody calls you princess. But Clarisse says it differently.

Clarisse La Rue is probably the bane of your existence. She’s drop dead gorgeous, you would kill to run your hands through her curls, and she is the most talented person you know in battle. You’re pretty good, after all this silent training and the tips and tricks shared in vain, but she is a force.

She’s the one guilty pleasure you let yourself have. If only because you know she’s too strong to get hurt. So you let yourself look, keep a secret crush tight in your chest- only bursting out when you can’t stand it, and you just have to stare at her and revel in that for a second.

The thing about Clarisse is that she likes you. Which would be fine, you just tried to stay away, but she kept coming back for more and more until it became impossible to ignore her. It’s like you two were just doomed to forever be in love with each other, and you have to live with that and eat it like crow.

It’s not like she outwardly flirts with you. She just says your nickname differently. She caresses the words and says it softer. She doesn’t stare at you like everyone else- she looks at you. It feels amazing, your one guilty pleasure is to revel in her love from far away, but you make it clear that you don’t want a relationship and you never will.

Clarisse seems intent either to ignore that or wait you out. You don’t let her get close enough. You won’t break someone else’s heart.

Everyone calls you princess. You only like it when Clarisse says it.

—-

“Hi, princess.”

You don’t look at him, focusing on tying your shoes instead. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, I thought I could help you.”

You finish tying your laces, taking your foot up off of the bench and onto the ground. You grab your sword, hair tied back, tank top and stretchy pants. He looks you up and down. You do the same.

“Uh… Van, right?”

“Funny name so you won’t forget it, huh?” he winks, and you very obviously grimace.

“Ha, yeah.” You set your sights on a dummy currently not being attacked by a sword or spear and take a step forward.

“I noticed,” he starts, arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “That the only weapon you don’t know how to use is the spear.”

You finally look at him. He’s wearing cargo pants and the orange camp t-shirt. His hand is plain and blonde, cut short, and his cheeks seem to be permanently flushed. He’s a son of Ares, pretty good fighter, but nothing else to speak for. Clarisse, at least, is the absolute best at almost everything she does- and she puts in the work to show it.

Van looks like he trains the minimum amount and gets by on his natural abilities as a demigod.

“Okay?” you say, wanting nothing more than to get away from him and go back to training. “I don’t get what you’re saying. And don’t flirt with me, either- one of my siblings would be happy to make out with you in a shed somewhere.”

“I’ll teach you,” he says, slightly exasperated. You finally notice he is, in fact, holding a spear. “Huh?”

You squint at him.

You do have a reputation in this camp. Part of the reason you’re called princess is because you’re standoffish and cold- people mistake it as you thinking you’re better than them. Really, you’re one of the worst people at this camp. You’re saving them from being tainted by association.

But every once in a while, someone will get it in their heads that soulmates do exist, and they’re the right person for you- and you’re mean and you shut them down, but that’s way before they fall in love. It hurts them, but not as much as it hurts you, not as much as it would hurt them if you gave them any ounce of attention.

The only person who keeps coming back for more sticks her spear into the ground next to you, fingers drumming against the wood.

“Van, you look fucking stupid.”

“Clarisse,” Van hisses, glaring at her. She glares right back, unimpressed. “Can you just go? Fuck.”

She raises her eyebrows. His spear hits the dirt before you can even comprehend that Clarisse kicked it out of his hands, and you have to admit- Clarisse is quick. Clarisse is good at what she does.

She pours everything she’s got into training- and pursuing you. You think it might just be a joke at this point, or something she finds fun, been doing it too long that stopping feels wrong. You would be lying if you said it wouldn’t be weird for her to stop. For both of you to stop whatever this is. This silent wanting.

“First of all, you are mediocre with a spear. Second, if Y/N wanted spear lessons she would come to me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you huff, walking away.

“Clarisse,” you can hear Van groan. “She was going to say yes until you ruined it.”

“Bro, she was not going to say yes. You’re welcome for saving your ass from even more embarrassment, Gods.”

“You’re just mad she doesn’t like you after you’ve been pining for years.”

She laughs, loud and boisterously, but there’s an edge to her voice, one of doubt, something like she’s scared.

“Oh, you’re fucking funny,” she says, and you can hear her slapping his shoulder. You stretch, risking a glance over your shoulder- Van is walking off and she’s looking at you.

But when your eyes meet hers, she quickly looks away. And you notice. You notice, but you do nothing about it. The way it’s always meant to be.

—-

The strawberry fields is the most beautiful place at camp. It’s where you feel something for your mother, because while gardening and plants are Demeter’s thing- finding beauty in the way the strawberry sits in your hand, the way the sun turns the sky into purple and oranges, the way the bright green trees stand out against that- it’s all your mother.

You can appreciate beauty here.

You see beauty everywhere, and you see love everywhere, but not the kinds your mother is famous for.

You’ve been picking strawberries for what seems like hours now, but it’s bearable under the setting sun and when you think about how good it will feel to finally sink into your bed.

“Y/N!” someone calls. “Princess!” you roll your eyes but stand up, turning around and putting your hand over your face to protect from the setting sun.

“Yeah?!” you shout back, squinting. You realize you’re alone in the fields.

“We’re heading back!” a Demeter girl, Sasha, says.

Your eyes flick to your basket that will only take a few more minutes to fill up.

“I’ll go back later!”

“Okay!” she shouts back, running off after everyone else.

You crouch back down, taking a deep breath before you begin ruffling through the leaves of the strawberry plant to find the juicy berries. You sneak a few as you work, shuffling down the line of plants. It’s so calm here. There’s no one to hurt. There’s nothing to be scared of.

When you stand up, there’s four figures standing by the shed. You gasp, bringing your hand to your chest, but Clarisse takes off her helmet.

“Princess?” she asks. “What’cha doin’ out here all alone?”

“Collecting strawberries,” you snort, full basket hitting your knees as you walk towards her.

“I see that,” she huffs. You notice Van behind her, and another sister, Carrie, a brother named Matty. “But what are you doin’ out here alone?”

You shrug, coming to a stop in front of the little group of Ares kids.

“Everyone else left.”

“It’s almost dark.”

“Not yet, though,” you smile sarcastically.

Carrie and Matty continue walking after they realize nothing fun is going to happen. You’re not gonna entertain them, so why would they care? But Clarisse and Van stay. You stare at Clarisse for a moment longer before finally looking away.

“You don’t have a weapon,” Van notes. “Smart to be out here alone?”

“Oh, relax,” you sigh. “We’re still in the barrier.”

You tighten your grip on the bucket and turn left, walking towards the shed. Clarisse is hot on your heels.

“And how do you know that? What if it had spontaneously, like, failed and shut down, or something.”

“Then I think everyone would be running around and screaming, because monsters would be crawling through camp. I would know.”

You place the bucket next to all the other buckets collected today- you’ll keep the good ones here over night, away from the animals and bugs and someone will collect them in the morning.

You stand up, rolling your wrists, wiping the sweat from your brow. You take the small cutters for the thicker branches from your pocket and throw it into the bin with the others.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you can walk me back.”

“I jus’ think it’s stupid to be out here all alone,” she shrugs. You stare right past her, watching as the door slams shut. Was it windy?

Clarisse whips around, but sees it’s just the closed door. You frown, Clarisse steps forward.

“Sorry, Clarisse!” Van shouts from outside, and that’s when you hear the lock sliding into place. Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s done.

“Van, what the hell?!” Clarisse shouts, trying the knob. The door stays firmly shut. She slams her shoulder into it, but this place was built strong to protect from the elements, from all the little animals hungry for strawberries. “Let us out right fucking now, I swear, Van!”

“I can’t!” he says back, sounding sort of pained. “I just couldn’t get her alone!”

“Me?!” you yell, feeling increasingly trapped and claustrophobic. You shove Clarisse out of the way and rattle the doorknob, but it really is locked. “I didn’t do shit to you! Let me the fuck out!”

“For Carter!”

You take a step back. Your face falls from anger and anxiety into pure and utter turmoil. Your chest squeezes like it does every time you think about him. You carry the pain and the regret so heavily you doubt you’ll ever get rid of it. You’ll always be like this, rotting in your head, watching your beauty fade away and everyone give up on you.

Will you finally be free then? If you scream and take a knife to your face, make yourself unrecognizable, will everyone finally leave you alone then? Can you be something other than this stupid camp’s stupid princess?

But it’s wishful thinking. You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, and you were born to be beautiful, and you were born to be alone.

“Van, I’ll fucking kill you. Let. Us. Out.”

“Sorry!” he shouts, and you hear his footsteps in the dirt, running away while Clarisse screams for him to come back here.

You take a deep breath but it all comes crashing down like a dam breaking. All of the anger, the regret, the fear, it all comes pouring out until you’re sobbing into your hands in the middle of the shed.

Clarisse stops trying to break through the door. It’s painfully tense for a moment, nothing besides the crickets and the sounds of your sobs. You end up sitting on half-empty bags of fertilizer and mulch in the corner- although it’s not really used much, sometimes the Demeter kids like to experiment- it’s the most comfortable thing in this shed.

You’re 17 now, and you broke Carter’s heart when he was 13 and you were 12. You wake up and you feel your guilt like you feel the sun on your face- it’s your morning routine to stare at yourself in the mirror and know that you are the blessed one who doesn’t deserve it. You beg to be free, but this is your punishment.

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “How does he not know I’m sorry?”

You never said it to him, of course- your siblings had told you Aphrodite would curse you if you said you were sorry, and you were 12 and scared so you shut up and you stared at him from afar, your first love and your first heartbreak. Could he not see the way you hated yourself? The way you hated everyone?

Why couldn’t anyone see that you weren’t a princess? You were a demon, so wicked you were worthy of being Hades’ right hand minion.

Clarisse sits down heavily next to you. She doesn’t say anything. She waits until the sobs start to ebb like a wave, until the worst is over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, one final time. Maybe the wind will take pity on you and carry your words to him. You wish it would, but why? Why do you deserve it? Your nails dig into your palms, leaving blood red moons.

“Why are you sorry?” Clarisse breathes, seeming more genuinely curious then demeaning. “Who’s Carter?”

You miss the way her lip curls around the name.

“I can’t tell you,” you moan, because Clarisse is the only person who actually gives half a fuck about you, and it feels so nice to have her eyes on you- not in the way everyone else does. They admire you, despise you, she appreciates you. She stares at you from afar and you both know that you want more, but she’s content to stare and you’re content to let her.

She laughs. “Yes, you can. I wouldn’t even care if you killed someone named Carter. But seeing as you escaped punishment from Chiron, and you only got locked in a shed, it’s probably not that bad.”

When you look up at her you can feel the mascara streaming down your face. You’re sure you look like a raccoon, and you can see how unnerving it is for her to see you- always so calm and put together- reduced to tears by a single name.

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite, Clarisse.”

“I know,” she says, although it sounds like a question.

You stare at her, not able to say it, trying to convey to her with your eyes. You can practically see the cogs turning in her head as she thinks about the Aphrodite cabin.

“Oh,” she says. A few tears fall down your face. “The initiation thing- you have to break someone’s heart, right?”

“Yes,” you say, bitterly, resisting the urge to throw something and have a tantrum. You press your hands into your eyes, breathing heavily. “That stupid, stupid initiation. I hate being her daughter. I hate being like this.”

The hug starts out awkward. Clarisse places her arm lightly around your shoulders, starts mumbling apathetically that it’ll be okay. It’s not that she doesn’t care or anything, you’re both just foreign to what it’s like to feel this way for someone.

And it feels good to have someone touching you, so before you can stop yourself you’re shoving your way in her arms. She stiffens, sits up straight as your tears stain her orange camp shirt. But after a moment she hugs you back just as fiercely, with just as much desperation. She doesn’t say anything, probably because she doesn’t know what to say, and you can’t even comprehend your embarrassing, secret, unrealistic guilty pleasure of a crush is hugging you right now.

You’re too focused on the way she shushes you softly, her arm against your waist, the other around your shoulder- thumb drawing circles on your skin.

You’re too focused on the way she feels against you to even care about how awkward this will be later.

Finally, when night has really fallen and the wind starts to howl, you let go of Clarisse.

“Sorry,” you mumble, body locking up, staring firmly at the ground. Your face is caked in runny makeup- you feel as disgusting as you’re sure you look.

“It’s okay,” she says, hesitating for a moment before she stops touching you. “I, uh, I don’t think you should hate yourself.”

You scoff. Both at the ridiculousness of her stuttering and what she’s saying. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“No, I’m being serious.” She seems a little firmer now, like she really believes what she’s saying. But she doesn’t know you. “You shouldn’t hate yourself. Like, what do you even mean, you “hate being like this?’ What’s this?”

“I’m a monster, Clarisse. Literally, a fucking monster. I’m a horrible person, and yet everyone walks around and calls be princess because, what? I’m pretty? You can still be Aphrodite’s favorite and a monster. Maybe I am her favorite for a reason. Because of what I did.”

“A monster? Really?”

She looks at you like you’re the stupidest girl in the world. And Gods, coming from someone like Clarisse does that hurt.

You stare her down like you’re not about to cry. You squint so the tears won’t come, digging your nails into your palms to distract from the feeling in your stomach.

“I asked him to meet me at night. He told me he thought he loved me, and I laughed in his fucking face and said how could he ever think that I would love him? Who does that? Who is so fucked in the head?”

You look at her face, slightly twinged with disgust, and it feels good. It feels good to drive someone else away. To save them from yourself.

“This is my punishment. My life. And I hate it, but I know it’s what’s meant for me. I’ll never be loved. No matter how beautiful I am. I won’t let myself, I won’t hurt someone else. I don’t deserve it.”

She grabs your hand. You look at her, and she’s still so disgusted, so why is she touching you? Why is her face morphing into concern? Why does she still look at you like you’re this precious thing? Why do you like it? Why do you crave her like air?

“You don’t deserve this,” she says.

Why isn’t she listening to you?

“I don’t, Clarisse. Just- jus’ stop, please.”

But it finally hits you why she’s so disgusted. It’s not what you did, it’s the way you think about yourself.

“You came to camp when you were 12, right, so that’s when you completed your initiation? So, you were 12. You were 12 and listening to your older siblings. You were 12 and you made a mistake, and you’ve spent years and years punishing yourself over it. Most of the people at camp are blind, Y/N, but I’m not. I see the way you treat yourself, and that- you just don’t deserve that.”

“Fine,” you mumble, feeling a little breathless. “Maybe I was 12. But it’s too late. Everyone at camp thinks I’m a bitchy fucking princess.”

She smiles. “Well, you are.”

You throw her hand off of you and pretend to glare at her, but you’re smiling.

“You are a princess, Y/N, let me help you see it.”

Clarisse is your secret crush. She was a comfort for lonely nights, someone to think about when you were eating alone at dinner. And it didn’t help that she would stare at you while you imagined her sitting across from you. Clarisse is your secret crush, locked up in your chest and waiting to burst out like a cuckoo clock.

Clarisse is your secret crush, unrealistic and wishful thinking- but the way she looks at you right now makes it real.

The door clicks open.

“Oh,” Sasha, the girl yelling at you earlier says. “Sorry- I forgot my… uh…”

You quickly stand up, pushing Clarisse away from you. Sasha moves to the side and let’s you through the door. Against your better judgement, you stop and look over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, princess.”

—-

The next day, after waking up and realizing what happened yesterday wasn’t a bad dream, Clarisse is really doing something this sweet for you, you’re ready to forget it all ever happened and sit alone as you usually do.

You stand at the edge of the pavilion, searching across the tables for an empty one-

“Y/N!” Clarisse yells. She looks at you expectantly, and you notice the empty seat next to her.

Oh. She wants you to sit with her.

As beautiful and sweet Clarisse is, you still can’t let her be anything more than your secret crush. But you can sit with her for one meal. You can pretend, and maybe that will hold you over when you eventually succeed in pushing her away.

Your head was clouded by her touch, her smell, her voice- you weren’t in the right state of mind to be making decisions about “seeing Clarisse tomorrow.”

You stop at the fire pit in the middle of the pavilion.

“Please, Mom,” you mutter, dumping almost all of your plate into the flames.

This is probably the first time you’ve really prayed to her since the day you broke Carter’s heart.

You set your tray down next to her, swinging your legs over the bench and under the table, settling yourself in. Her siblings don’t even look up, all busy eating identical bagel sandwiches- you squint, resisting the urge to laugh at the cheese, bacon, sausage, and eggs. Ares kids are always eating the most gluttonous foods, seeing as they train 24/7.

Clarisse glares at your plate.

“What?” you say, shifting awkwardly in your seat.

“That is not enough food.” And while your plate mostly is empty space, you’re really not that hungry this morning.

You shrug. “I was in a praying mood today.”

“Don’t care, go get more.”

You roll your eyes, but you’d be lying if you said her concern didn’t make your stomach twist in a good way.

“Okay, I’ll grab something on my way out.”

She hums, turning back to your sandwich. All of her siblings are intent on eating their big sandwiches, a few people at the end of the table talk in between bites- but the Ares kids take breakfast very seriously. They’re a bit more rowdy at lunch and dinner, but breakfast is always such a sordid affair, like someone died.

Someone else sits at the table. You look up from your plate, watching as Van digs into his sandwich, sporting a black eye, a bruised cheek, and a busted lip.

“Oh,” you mumble, cringing at his bloody, messy face.

You look over at Clarisse, notice her knuckles are split open. She feels you looking at her and turns to you, a bite of half-chewed sandwich in her mouth.

“Wha-” she starts, but catches Van out of the corner of her eye. She giggles, just a bit, and it makes your stomach twist. “Oh, Van, you are one of the funniest people I have ever met.”

Everyone at the table turns to him.

A few giggle at his busted up face, Clarisse smiles at him in that demeaning way she’s famous for.

“Move.”

“I’m not fuckin’ movin’, Clarisse. Go fuck yourself.”

One of her siblings laughs loudly. Matty, you recognize him. “Dude, you’re seriously going to get beat up- again.”

“You are,” Clarisse shrugs. “I’m serious, move.”

Van rolls his eyes and sets his sandwich down.

“Listen, Carter’s my friend, he never wanted to get revenge, but I wanted to get it for him. I know it’d make him feel better. I was tryin’ to convince him to go fuck up her bed or something when… well, yeah. I didn’t mean to trap you in there with her, Clarisse, okay? I know you’re fuckin’ obsessed with her, whatever, but she’s a serious bitch. And not even that hot.”

Matty puts his head in his hands.

The table is deathly silent. He looks around.

“Come on. All those Aphrodite kids are stuck-up bitches, but she’s just got a particular rudeness about her, huh? And, really, I don’t think I could fuck her even if the world was ending.”

“What the fuck,” someone across from you, Max, mumbles. A girl adjacent to you coos softly, and you realize that there’s tears falling down your face.

Clarisse puts her hand on your thigh.

“Van,” she says, her voice calm and even. She breathes in and out. “I am going to fucking kill you.”

Van looks over to Clarisse, and that’s when he finally notices you sitting next to her.

“I-” he starts, but doesn’t get to finish, not when you pick up your tray and throw it across the table- hitting him directly in the nose. “Holy fuck!” he shouts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Gods, fuck-”

You stand up and make your way around the table, tears clouding your vision, and he quickly stands up as well. No one makes any move to hold you back or protect him.

“Bitch,” he hisses. “Huh? Come at me, princess.”

And you meet him, attacking like a feral cat, all scratching and kicking and hitting, a fury fueled fully by your anger and the beauty in letting it all go. He grunts and tries to hit you back, but they barely touch you.

You can see Clarisse out of the corner of your eye, watching closely, arms crossed over her chest. It takes you a second, but for some reason, you can see her face so clearly. She’s slightly worried. She watches the fight with an intensity, like she’s happy to let you fight him- but if he actually hurts you, then she’ll jump in. But more importantly, she’s proud.

Gods, does it make you feel good.

“Fucking- bitch!” he shouts. “Get off of me!”

He pushes you back, you steel yourself. When he sees you coming at him again, he punches you hard. You swear you see stars. You swear you almost met Hades, just for a second.

Blood runs down your face, gushing like a geyser- you groan, one of Clarisse’s siblings making you pinch your nose and tilt your head back. Matty puts his hand on your shoulder, and mutters something encouraging about keeping your head back.

It’s all a daze.

“Clarisse!” her sister Carrie shouts, trying to hold her back while Van scrambles away on the ground, yelling incoherently about his teeth. “Clarisse! Clarisse! You got him, you got him, c’mon.”

It all comes rushing over you. Adrenaline kept you sane just for moment, but all the pain comes rushing back, and you almost scream with how much it hurts. You double down, chest pressing to your stomach while Matty and someone else try desperately to pull you back upward.

“Oh, Gods, why does it hurt so bad?” you say, more blood gushing forward, even through your fingers. It’s running down your neck and chest, permanently ruining your shirt.

“Van has a good right hook,” Matty winces. “Ass at everything else, but.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. She’s in front of you in a moment, hands under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back. You can feel your face is absolutely covered in blood. “Hey, it’s alright,” she says, so softly that you’re the only one who can hear. “Okay, I’ll take you to the infirmary, okay?”

Matty let’s go of you, Clarisse replaces him, arm wrapping around your waist, fingertips still keeping your chin up. You walk in silence until you reach the infirmary.

She chuckles a bit. “You’re good,” she says.

“At what?” you groan, eyes screwed shut. “Getting punched?”

“No,” she says. “Just… you’re good.”

One of the healers rushes over before you can even think of an answer.

—-

After your nose was reset, your shirt was changed, and all the blood was cleaned- you sat in the empty infirmary. Van was in a private room with most of the healers who were having a fun time trying to fix his face and do something with the teeth Clarisse knocked out.

She finds you slipping your shoes on, face puffy, a bag of ambrosia in your hand.

“Princess,” she says. “I told them it was all me. So, you’re fine. I made up some shit about you getting caught in the crossfire.”

Your chest deflates a bit. You were sort of looking forward to the punishment. “You didn’t have to do that, Clarisse.”

She shrugs. “I wanted to. And I do whatever I want.”

You smile, and she sits down next to you on the creaky bed.

“What’d you get?”

“Oh,” she sighs, hands on her knees. “5 months no dessert. 3 months of teaching sword practice to the little kids, that’s gonna be like Tartarus come again.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “It’s all my fault.”

“I could have easily let the two of you beat each other to death. But I didn’t. You were too busy winning that fight to care about what I was doing.”

“I didn’t win,” you scoff. “If you didn’t jump in, the way he punched me, he got me.”

“You didn’t know about Van and his right hook,” she shrugs. “It’s okay. I fucked up his face a bit, but you did so much better.”

You’ve been permanently on the edge of tears because of the pressure in your nose, so when they spill over, it’s no surprise.

“W-why are you crying?” Clarisse asks, turning slightly towards you, placing her hand on your arm.

“Still a monster,” you remark, sarcastic smile on your face. “I shouldn’t have done that to him. I… I was just mad. And look, here I am escaping with no punishment yet again.”

You go to stand up, feeling like your heart is a hole in your chest.

She puts her hand on your thigh to stop you.

“I think… just the fact that you feel so bad means you’re not a monster. I don’t feel shit for Van. I’m glad he got hurt. I would do it again. I hope I get to do it again.”

“You’re horrible, Clarisse,” you smile. She smiles back.

“The only person I feel bad for is… you. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt bad for. Everyone else in this camp is blind, Y/N. But I’m not. Not when it comes to you.”

And it’s like you’re seeing her for the first time. The way her curls always stick up in that one place, the way her eyes reflect the sunlight streaming through the window, the way the rough skin of her hands is nothing compared to the bones inside that hold you so softly. The way her lips look. The way she calls you princess. The way she sees you.

You’re both leaning forward, you’re both just teenage girls learning to love themselves, because you’ve always loved each other.

When her lips finally meet yours it all comes rushing back to you. You gasp and pull away after just a moment.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that-”

Clarisse grabs your face and kisses you.

“You’re not deleting that. I don’t care what you think of yourself right now,” she whispers, lips against yours. “Because you’re wrong, and I’m going to show you.”

And against your better judgement, you let her show you. She shows you with her hands in your hair, her hands on your neck, on your face, her lips against yours. You let her teach you love with just one kiss, and you decide you have a newfound appreciation for your mother.

If love feels this good, this beautiful, then you’ve been missing out.

This goes against everything you’ve been preaching for years. But you’ve found a new religion in her, you promise to listen to her and to feel what she makes you feel- no matter how wrong you think it is. Clarisse shows you it’s not wrong.

She finally pulls away for air, searching your eyes, but you can’t breathe when she’s not kissing you. She seems to like what she finds, because she smiles.

“You’re beautiful, princess,” she mutters, and kisses you again. “You’re beautiful, and you’re so kind, and I’ll show you what I’ve seen for years.”

Everyone calls you princess. But Clarisse says it differently. Clarisse says it like she’s caressing the word, pretending to caress you. Clarisse says it in the way you want her to say it, in the way that selfishly makes you feel so, so special. Clarisse says it like she knows you.

You were right. You’re not meant for love, it’s not meant for you. You’re meant for Clarisse.

—-

carter watching literally everyone fight over smth ridiculously stupid that happened when he was 12 and he got over 2 weeks after it happened: uh 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

—-

clarisse when she realizes y/n hates herself: WHAT????? HOW IS THIS???? HUH????? like she just doesn’t even understand she can’t comprehend it

y/n after hating herself for like 5 years and pretending she’s chill: 🤗

—-

van after he loses his teeth: 😞

clarisse when van loses his teeth: LETS GO FUCK THAT BITCH

—-

clarisse being y/n’s new religion btw 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

[absolutebl]

BLs with Strong Historical Elements

Costume dramas, historical BLs, and BLs with time travel or flashbacks to historical locations & times.

These are in order of my personal preference, best at the top.

I Feel You Linger in the Air

2023 Thailand

IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). It's about a gay man from our time who falls into the past, becomes a servant to a noble house, and falls in love with the heir. It turns out this has all happened several times before. Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but not as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy soulmates BL... from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and as individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show could easily have earned a 10/10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls in the final quarter. Argh. Whatever.

Nobleman Ryu's Wedding

2021 Korea - WeTV

A boy cross-dresses to take his runaway sister's place as a bride to a shy scholar, turns out they like being married. A historical setting allowed this BL to use some seriously old fashioned romance tropes (arranged marriage, evil step-sisters, Cinderfella) but also modern BL stylings like fake relationship & secret identity (drag) plus some cute gay panic. It reminded me of 12th Night more than anything else which just happens to be my favorite Shakespeare play. For all these reasons, I adored it.

(the ghat kiss!)

Tinted With You

2022 Korea - Viki

Fun stylish time travel meets portal fantasy with a likable cast, historical setting, and two actual kisses that mitigate the rough plot and issues around anachronisms.

Word of Honor

2021 China (censored) - Viki/YouTube?

I don’t rec Chinese stuff often, because I believe in censoring the censors, but this show is one of my favorites of the post 2016 censored bromances. It’s two murder-gay assassins (pining sunshine/tsundere), and they are so insanely gay for two boys who will never be allowed to kiss. Tropes include: wuxia, soulmates, paranormal, historical, and fantasy elements.

To Sir, With Love AKA Khun Chai

2022 Thailand - YouTube?

This is a true lakorn (basically Thai tellenovella or soap opera) with scenery chewing performances, especially from the mother characters. Gone With the Wind + Days of Our Lives but gay. That said? I loved it: A glorious central brother relationship (the best, made me cry), het romances, class divide + gay *gasp* main romance - oh my word, the campy drama of it all! Arranged marriage, rebellion, cut sleeves, over-the-top death with curses and regrets, beautiful if inaccurate costumes, secrets unraveling, cover ups, sparkle murder, sex herbs, coils within coils including snakes and murderous green metallic sequins (is anything gayer on this earth?). It’s a WILD ride but it does end happy for our gay boys. A man cries when he finds DEATH GLITTER. Come on! You haffa watch it. That said, like Manner of Death I struggle to rate something on a BL scale when it patently isn’t a BL. So I ended up giving this exactly what I gave that show, 7/10 I enjoyed it a whole lot, but not as a BL.

The Untamed (Special BL Edition)

2020 China (censored) - YouTube

Censored wuxia bromance, amorphous ending. Probubly the best known BL of its kind out of China and responsible for bring many fans to the BL side.

Our Skyy 2: Never Let Me Go

2023 Thailand - YouTube

I was nervous to watch this PondPhuwin vehicle but I liked it a lot! Doomed soulmates + paranormal time travel to fix the past. I’m happy for the outfits and the dancing (if not the singing). It’s not a bad premise and it’s nice to see GMMTV lean into its high production values for a change. I'd adore a full historical starring these two and this was definitely the best of the second series of Our Skyy. I don't think you have to have watched the original Never Let Me Go to enjoy this.

Legend of Long Yang: Rebirth

2017 China

Gaga

Whipping boy trope... literally, servant character takes the strap for the prince, who then makes him his bodyguard and lover when he becomes king. Low budget historical, comes off as kind of cosplay wuxia version of Irresistible Love, but we get (in the credits) an actual kiss, and they both live. So yay for small mercies.

The Director Who Buys Me Dinner

2023 Korea (historical flash backs)

iQIYI

A new employee at a film company encounters a director who claims to have lived 300 years and insists that they have to date (eat, hug & kiss) if baby doesn't want to die. It has a lot of Japanese elements, not the least of which are: an office setting, the fact that every character in this show is unhinged, and a killing of the gays. Featuring a gorgeous & stellar cast, TDWBMD should have utilized them less for melodrama and more for chemistry. This BL surprised me by going there with a lipstick mark AND an actually gay idol. But (you knew there was a but) while it's a unique twist on an office romance it is NOT a unique twist on the doomed red thread trope, resulting in it feeling less than the sum of its parts and ultimately unsatisfying. This might have also had to do with the fact that this was one of those KBLs where I felt how very short it was the whole time I was watching, like I was missing something constantly, in every episode. Worth watching for some but seriously flawed.

First Love Again

2022 Korea (historical flash backs) - Viki

A popular novelist who remembers his past lives meets his soulmate for the third time, only to find she has been reincarnated into the body of a man. This one started out a touch mean-spirited, but we eventually got a good kiss. The confession/rejection scene was justified and the reconciliation and ending was... fine. All in all, the pacing felt rushed and the romantic arc was underdeveloped. They go from like to love to boyfriends in a red hot minute. But that’s par for the course with Korea’s short form. If you don’t mind a heavy does of melodrama in your BL this one has a solid story with a strong concept that’s well acted and produced, making it a classic KBL with better than average chemistry but ultimately a touch forgettable.

Love in Spring AKA Spring of Crush

2022 Korea

This show was all over the place with uneven acting, narrative, and focus (sometimes it wanted to be a slapstick comedy, sometimes a depressing melodrama) which meant no one, actors or viewers, took anyone or anything seriously.... AND it’s a bromance. I was left wondering if SalHyung is now code for “they were roommates” in Kdrama historicals but otherwise largely apathetic and unimpressed. Korea, I now know you can do better. Do better.

Mermaid's Jade

2019 China (censored-esk) - Gaga

Kills the gay.

The Male Queen: Han Zi Gao

2016 China - Gaga

Kills the gay. Schrodinger's BL, both a BL and entirely not one at the same time.

Diary of Heong Yeong Dang

2014 Korea

Kills the Gay

I was gonna do a top 10 list, but there aren't enough by my metrics, so many end sadly.

This post at the behest of @verymuchof thank you for the idea!

Dated April 2023, includes only BLs that had finished their run by that date. Not responsible for cool costume flix that come after that. But you should check the comments to see if any have been added by others!

I might have missed a few that only have time historical elements since I don't always track those.

Also I would like to point out a decided lack of Japan on this list. My ninja yaoi consuming tiny past self is VERY upset about this void.

WHERE ARE MY GAY NINJAS??!!!

(source)

[heretherebedork]

Pit Babe is one of my favorite types to trope that BL does not take enough advantage of and that is 'what happens when your only way out is hypermasculinity but you really aren't like naturally and so wear it like a shield again the softness so deeply inherent in your nature that your cannot risk it being exposed?' and the answer is... Babe. Babe happens.

A hypermasculine racer who tries to avoid any kind of sexual or romantic connection and pretends he doesn't care at all who melts the instant anyone shows him that they can treat him sweetly and loses himself entirely in even the tiniest amount of affection because he has never been able to safely allow himself that affection.

Babe wears masculinity like a second skin and he blocks people out and he snaps and he glares and he teases the friends he doesn't love because they are safe and they remind him that he will never love or be loved because he is not that kind of man and he scoffs and bets the first person who's given him what he wanted on a race because that's what men do. They don't care.

But the longer he spends with Charlie the less comfortable he gets in his second skin. Charlie peels him bare with a stroke of his hair, with a kiss to his forehead, with a sweet smile, with breakfast in the morning, by fighting for him, by protecting him, by waiting at home for him, by soothing him when he sulks and pouts. Charlie found all those soft parts that Babe has been protecting with his masculinity and exposed them so tenderly and so kindly and with nothing more than love.

And I love that. I want more of that. I want more toxic masculine characters realizing the persona they've crafted for themselves is not their true self but rather a mask, armor, a second skin for the world and to be able to expose the softness in the safety of the person they love.

[tragedy-machine]

Payneland fic rec list part 4!

1. Reach Out And Touch Faith - Edwin stops touching Charles; Charles doesn't deal well with it, Charles angst my beloved <3 and yes you could say I'm biased towards this fic hihi

2. I Turned Back One Last Time (just to prove you were there) - touchy Charles, paranoid that Edwin will get snatched again if he lets him out of his sight, Charles angst again

3. I'll let you go if you kiss me goodbye - "didn't know they were dating" trope, which is my favorite trope ever so I love this so dearly, believe me when I tell you I haven't been able to stop thinking about this fic since I read it!!!

4. The Problem of Forever - they meet a couple of ghosts and Edwin internalizes some shit about their fucked up relationship, Edwin angst for a change

5. feel - Edwin decided to put some distance between them and Charles takes it as a personal challenge, lol, touchy Charles yet again! and Edwin suffers for it

6. True Love's Kiss - Charles acquires a love potion and uses it to resolve his ongoing issue, Edwin suffers for it again lmao

7. something reluctant to let go - Edwin falls down into the sea, and what is Charles supposed to do? not jump after him? love this idea

8. boyfriend jacket - 5+1 times when Charles gave Edwin his jacket and one time Edwin stole it, it's a good jacket, who can blame him

I always try to reply under people's posts searching for fic recs with specific tropes so if anyone has a trope they'd like a a few recs for, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox and I'll scour my bookmarks for something for y'all!

And here's part 3 of the list, happy reading!

[drarrargh]

drarrargh’s fic rec list!! fics that drarrargh recs :)

‘... A Little Insecure’ by tigersilver

It’s an epistolary! Need I say more? If so, I will say more! The Draco characterization knocked my socks off! The ending put a smile on my face! The conflict of the story is super small but feels super big! It’s really really good!

Dwelling by aideomai

Do you have a hankering for the most devastating plot twist of all time? Look no further!

Nice Things by aideomai

The first time I read this fic I was stranded in Iceland due to a level three snowstorm, and it kept me warm in the cold. Yes this is a true story

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by @letteredlettered on tumblr

Identity porn! Getting hot and heavy with identities.

Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered

amazing podfic of Away Childish Things by RattleandHum

Look, look, I know. Everyone in the fandom has already read this. It’s one of The Drarry Fics of all time. But maybe somebody is new to drarry, or maybe it’s time for you to reread it. You know you want to!

The Way Down by @letteredlettered

Being friends is hard, being a person is hard. Less hard ons then you’d expect though.

Two To Shore by Lamplighter

Disregard everything else I’ve ever said. This is my favorite drarry fic of all time. Ever. They’re both in slytherin and they’re best friends.

Hermione Granger's Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by waspabi

Podfic of Hermione Granger's Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by Lazulus

Drarry road trip fic but like, everybody is there.

What We Pretend We Can't See  by gyzym

My favorite draco characterization maybe um ever.

The Loathly Worm by Selden

There’s secret identities, there’s a big monster worm. What’s not to like?

Talk to Me by Saras_Girl

My comfort fic that I cherish and adore in sickness and in health for so long as we both shall live.

It takes a Village by Saras_Girl

Drarry live in a village together, with goats and a magic trout, which I just personally really enjoy. 

Erosmancy by astolat

Erosmancy podfic by Lazulus

I come crawling back to this whenever I need a dose of raw unfiltered desperation.

Drop Dead Gorgeous by Maya

The dichotomy of extreme super silly situations and the most agonizing pining I’ve read to date.

An Emerald in The Sky by corvuscrowned

Timey-wimey

Trouble, My Old Friend by Tepre

Its important that harry faces the sexy sexy truth.

If It Takes All Night by @tackytigerfic

Draco and harry are just very good friends that are magically bonded... It gets me every gosh darn time.

Gryffindors Never Kiss and Tell by FeelsForBreakfast

This one never ever fails to pull me out of a bad mood.

hello goodbye (twas nice to know you) by tamerofdarkstars

soulmate trope!! woooo!!!

Matchmaker, Matchmaker by firethesound

Sometimes the situation is so dire that your house has to step in.

Who Shagged Harry Potter? by Faith Wood

the age old question! appropriately silly 10/10

And last but not least on this particular list,

Going Postal by dustmouth

Everything dustmouth draws is perfect and lovely. dustmouth’s ao3 account is sacred ground.

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 20: GETTING CAUGHT Shanks 𝘹 F! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @downforsanji ➡ Hii Sashi!! I always love your work, one of my favorite writers 😘 for the kinktober, may I please request kink/day 20 (getting caught) with Shanks? The reader is female (she/her). Additional kinks/trope are friends to lovers and praise/degradation kink. Also power dynamic if it suits the story. Thank you so much Sashi ❤❤ have a nice day!! ➡ hi love! I'm sorry for the delay, but here it is! finally! hope you enjoy! 💞 tw: kinda public. soft degradation. soft power dynamic. friends to lovers. ft buggy. wc: 1.2k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Someday had to happen; they were friends -and sometimes brawled like enemies- but still everybody noticed the tension in between them swearing that their relationship had to be more than being friends…

Well, they were… right.

“I can’t stand you, Shanks. That damn face of yours, always so cocky but still acting like a sweet boy. People should know your true you” you spit, pushing him aside after he beat you in that game.

He keeps laughing, grabbing you by your wrist to stop you from leaving a party where nobody is paying attention at you, even though is full of people.

Shanks catches you, as your nose finally buries on his exposed chest. You smell the scent of his sun kissed skin, feeling his hand pressing your waist against him.

“Oops, you clumsy! Don’t fall” the red-haired scoffs, while your eyes fix on his sharp jaw and your legs quiver.

“Stop it, for real. You pulled me… are you that needy for feminine touch? You try to downgrade him, even if it’s you now who is not willing to move away from his arms.

Your friend hugs you closer, so close you can feel everything of him. And so close, he can feel everything of you, too. You gasp, because you are sure you just grazed something hard on him.

“Sh-Shanks…” you murmur. “(Name)…” he smirks, biting his lower lip so slow and sexy as he looks down to you.

Your hands feel sweaty against his chest, your legs more and more weak… truth is, that even though you love him as a friend… Shanks is beyond sexy, and you just discovered how much you wanted to touch his skin, to kiss his lips…

He looks to the sides; the music is loud, people are drinking, people are dancing, and others are dancing. Some more are passed out on the couches, and others about to. The music is loud, the smoke fills your lungs, and the little door of a pantry stays semi open behind you.

And Shanks pushes you slowly inside of it, and you walk backwards because you really want it as much as he does. And it wasn’t the alcohol, nor any drug… it was… desire.

As soon as you are inside, you hit your back with a shelf full of toilet paper with them falling on your head. Shanks, whose hand rests sexily but still delicately in your face, laughs at you.

“Stop it…” you shyly say, trying not to laugh. Even if you would like to keep it cool, you simply couldn’t. The man right in front of you shared many laughs with you not to laugh now.

“Or else? What are you gonna do, hm?” he teases you, lifting your chin up in between his fingers. His red locks tickle your cheeks, and the warmth of his breathe menaces with kissing you.

You swallow, pulling him even closer from the collar of his white opened shirt.

Inside of that little pantry, it’s hot and humid. And the little light filtering through the door is the only source of light… even if there is no need to see, because you know him so well. There is only one need, and it is to feel.

When his lips finally crash against yours, you moan loudly. It’s almost a surprised whine, a gasp of the unbelievable happening.

His tongue, and yours, dance lustfully. The music coming from outside, filters like a murmur, playing in the background while the pumping hearts of you two take over.

And the more you two kiss, the more both want to melt into only one body; his hardness pressed against your lower belly, the little hint of alcohol in his breath, the way he lifts you up holding you from under your legs and your arms around his neck.

“Fuck… if you wanted me this bad why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, scoffing once again, but this time with a little tremble on his voice he can’t conceal.

“Wasn’t it you the one who pushed me inside this place, Shanks? Is you who is desperate to fuck me” you reply, teasing him with your voice and softly humping on his erection.

Shanks stops smiling, and this time you feel the shelves on the wall carving on your back. He moves you so that his sex practically pierces your panties from under your short tight shirt; you can even feel his throbbing member all through his capri shorts.

“You are right, I am desperate to finally fuck you. I’ve been wanting to be inside of you from months… even holding myself back whenever you fell asleep next to me on that long trip with the guys…” he confesses, breaking your blouse with claws like a feral animal.

You are left speechless, thinking such thing would never come out of Shanks mouth… or at least when talking about you. But he seems to be watching you for long enough, waiting forever for you. Who are you to tell him to stop, despite being on a very public spot where anyone could walk in at any moment?

“Then… fuck me, once and for all ~” you purr, passing your hand through his beautiful crimson hair, feeling his eyes burn holes into your soul and the muscles of his jaw tensing in desire.

“As you please, my dear friend”

You aren’t very sure how, but he already managed to free his sex from his trousers’ prison. You can feel the wetness of his tip pushing against the equally wet surface of your panties. It is warm. It feels like heaven to even have your sexes barely separated by a fine mantle of lace.

But lace should be removed, or at least moved to the side, because this man wants to bury deep inside of you. And that’s exactly what he does, as he guides his sex towards your dripping flower.

He breathes your suffocated moan, while he stretches your entrance as he slides inside of you. Your nails carve on his shoulders, and after staying for a couple of eternal, killing seconds right by your entrance, he impales you so violently and mercilessly it rips a growl out of you.

And the more you moan and whine, the more his hips become the executioners of your sex. His grunts and low growls, the way that he sucks your nipples while he keeps fucking you…

The way you had forgotten you were at a party, in a pantry close to everybody… the way you had forgotten about time, and about parties ending at some point of the night…

“SHANKS?” a man, with blue hair and a funny looking nose screams while opening the door. “I can see your butt cheeks what the fuck!” he continues.

You open your eyes, picking through the broad shoulders of your lover, to see Buggy, Shanks best friend, screaming with the door open.

“Buggy… close the god damn door!!” Shanks protests, once he stops sucking on your breast. He doesn’t seem to care, and for some reason he only wants his friend to go away to keep fucking you. “Or stay, but let me finish fucking her”

“SHANKS, NO!” you chime. “Shanks, you are disgusting… fine! Roger called us, so hurry up. And I knew it, finally you did her” Buggy claims he knew, and of course he did. “Yeah yeah, now go!”

“Shall we continue, mademoiselle? “Shanks for the love of God…”

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @fushiguroshotwife💖🙆‍♀️

[spursthatjinglejanglejingle]

I read a post a while ago talking about how a lot of "dead wife man" characters would be improved if the wife divorced the husband rather than died and i cannot get over how Disco Elysium is a perfect example of how true that is. If Dora died rather than leaving Harry so much of the story would've been so much less impactful, especially the Working Class Corpse quest.

Even ignoring how sexist that trope is, exploring the relationship between two people who were genuinely in love and then separated gives so much more room for messy and complicated feelings!!! No dead wife flashback will ever hit as hard as being able to call your ex wife and realizing that not only is she doing fine without you she's actually doing BETTER because you separated. The feelings of inadequacy!!! The abandonment issues!!! It's all *chefs kiss* i love it. Disco Elysium does so much perfectly but this is one of my favorites.

[blackhairedjjun]

improvisation - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, a little bit angsty?, fake dating, university au, friends to ???, open / ambiguous ending | word count: 725 | warnings: food mentions

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - UNCERTAIN: while pretending/acting/undercover, the sender says “i love you” to the receiver, but whether they meant it or not is left unknown. (requested by @mazeinthemoon - maybe jjuni who’s normally very shy about his feelings and then when undercover he uses it as the opportunity to say how much he loves reader? :( )

author's notes: hi moon!! thank you thank you from the bottom of my heart for being one of my earliest and biggest supporters, it truly means a lot ♥ i love shy!jjunie and i love the fake dating trope a lot so i'm glad i got to write them both for this prompt! i hope you enjoy!

“so yeonjun, how did you win our little bear over?”

“mom,” you groan, “don’t call me that in front of him…”

yeonjun glances at you with a giggle. “why not?” he says, his teasing smile making your heart beat a little faster. “it’s cute and it suits you.”

your mother grins at him and nods; your father looks up from the chicken he’s eating to raise his eyebrows in approval. at least his impromptu comment is having the intended effect, you think. yeonjun is playing the role of the perfect boyfriend as if he were born for it.

“anyway,” he says, leaning forward across the tiny table in your dorm, “we met in class…”

the story that you and yeonjun tell your parents is mostly true, with a few embellishments that you practiced the day before. the two of you did meet in class, and the two of you did end up being partners for a major project there. you did end up becoming his study buddy after he failed a test, and he did become your lunch buddy after he saw you eating alone. 

but yeonjun talks about how cute you looked on the first day of class, or how warm you sounded when you comforted him after his failure — details he insisted on adding during your rehearsal, and you’re absolutely sure he made them up for dramatic effect. no way in hell would choi yeonjun, resident campus crush, think that someone like you looks cute.

when you call him a sweetheart for offering to sit with you at lunch after your ex-best friend ended your friendship, you know it to be true. but yeonjun calling you cute and warm? no, that can’t possibly be based on reality…

“i asked y/n to date me here in this dorm, actually,” yeonjun continues, his voice soft. “i ordered dinner for them, got all their favorite foods, played their favorite songs… and i said i love them.” he turns to you now, taking your hand in his and kissing it. “and i still do… i love you, baby.”

you freeze. this isn’t what you rehearsed.

but with your mother letting out an aww at your story and your father smiling, you can’t break the illusion. you intertwine your fingers with his and close your eyes, trying to calm the frenzied beating of your heart. why is he going off-script? what does this mean?

“i… i love you too, jjun…” you stammer. your hands are clammy and your face is hot. to your parents, you look like a blushing, lovesick mess.

at least you haven’t blown your cover.

一

the dinner is a success; you’ve managed to convince your parents that you’re happily dating yeonjun and not “languishing alone away from home,” as your mother feared. you should have felt contented washing the dishes while yeonjun dries them and puts them away. everything is going according to plan 一 right?

and yet your mind lingers on the one moment when your friend veered off-script. the soft “i love you,” the feeling of soft lips on your palm. surely yeonjun was merely improvising, convincing your parents of your heart-fluttering romance. but why did it make your heart flutter for real?

“your parents are nice,” yeonjun says as he dries the dishes you washed. “i see why you wanna impress them so much.”

his thoughts interrupt your from your reverie. you were thinking about his improvisation again.

“yeah.” you help him put the dishes away. “they’re a little crazy, but… they’re good to me.”

the question starts to rise in your mind and you feel your cheeks start to burn. all you need to do is ask him: “by the way, where’d that ‘i love you’ come from?” but your throat goes dry every time you try. yeonjun himself never brings it up. silence hangs between you; he looks up at you from staring at the dishcloth in his hands but he immediately turns away, his ears turning pink.

when the dishes are done, he manages to meet your gaze. his voice nearly cracks when he speaks.

“uh... s-see you with your mom again next week?”

“y-yeah... and practice what we’ll say the day before?”

“yeah, of course.”

you’re in such a daze that he’s out the door before you even know it, but he stops to look at you one last time.

“good night, y/n.”

“good night, yeonjun.”

and just like that, you’re left alone to your thoughts.