#i should probably not be this excited but like

[no-144444]

prince charming- l.norris

summary: lando brings his niece to the ballet, who knew he'd find love?

pairing: lando norris x fem! ballerina! reader

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Another show finished, another day done. All you had to do was meet some children and show them around the stage. It was a thing the company had decided to do after every single show, and you were one of the only ballerinas who enjoyed it. Everyone else ran out of there as fast as they could, but you stayed around, in full costume, showing them everything. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Look!” Mila, the little girl that had been assigned to you pulled on your hand and you followed her over. “It’s your Prince Charming!” She pointed at your co-star, Richard, who was playing Prince Charming while you played Cinderella. He was lovely and one of your best friends, but Mila’s face fell when she saw him kiss another girl, aka his actual girlfriend Mia. “He’s kissing someone else!” she gasped, looking at you hurt. 

You smiled. “We’re only together in the show, remember? My name isn’t Cinderella, is it?” You chuckled and she nodded, laughing. “So, that’s Richard, and he’s Mia’s real-life Prince Charming, not mine.”

She nodded understandingly. “Do you have a Prince Charming?”

You internally cringed, why did kids always want to know about your love-life? “No,” you smiled. 

Her face lit up. “OH! Perfect! Uncle Lala!” she called for her uncle to come over as your face fell. “Uncle Lala will you be Y/n’s Prince Charming so she can be my Auntie and we can have fun forever?!” 

Mila’s excited face and the ridiculousness of her statement, reminding him she truly didn’t know how the world worked, made him giggle. And with Lando, when he starts, he doesn’t stop. It took a whole minute for him to stop laughing, while you sat there awkwardly. You knew who he was, you knew why he was laughing, but it was still rude. Just say no, dude. 

“Mila, it doesn’t work like that,” he explained. “She’s way too pretty for me,” he whispered, sitting down beside her, and in front of you. 

Your eyes widened and you looked down, confused at the entire situation. 

“I know she is,” Mila answered (subtle dig at her uncle, but alright). “But you could ask her to dance or something. Princesses like dancing.”

Lando shook his head. “I’m an awful dancer.”

“Why do you just try talking to her!” Mila scoffed, then ran off to go look at some of the set of the show. 

You looked up and met his eyes and you both started laughing. “I’m so sorry about her, she gets like this sometimes,” he admitted, a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s alright, it happens sometimes,” you waved him off, an easy smile on your face. 

“You get hit on through people’s nieces a lot?” he questioned. 

You chuckled. “It’s more common than you think, people love the ballerina shtick.”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m 23,” you answered. “And I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Lando,” he held his hand out to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

“NIce to meet you too,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “Congratulations on the year you’ve had.”

“You watch F1?”

You nodded. “My mom has been into it since she was a kid, she gave that to me, so… yeah.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” he smirked and you chuckled. 

“Nico Hulkenberg,” you smirked. 

He chuckled. “Understandable,” he smiled, nodding. “Mila is probably off somewhere trying to destroy your set, I should probably go grab her.”

You both got up and smiled at each other. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Prince Charming,” you joked, he giggled. 

And that was that. 

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For the next few days, Lando could not get you out of his head. You were funny, kind, beautiful, good with Mila, everything he wanted in a person, yet he’d let you slip away. You weren’t even on social media, but he followed the company’s instagram and some of your friends to see pictures of you. He decided, once the season ended, he’d go back and find you. Maybe he really could become your Prince Charming. 

He joined the rest of the crowd in their standing ovation as you bowed, smiling brightly. He waited around and followed a few more people backstage to finally see you again. 

“Lando?” you questioned as you looked at him from behind. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you again,” he shrugged. “Happy holidays.”

You smiled. “So it is true,” your eyes shone with a hint of mischief. “You did follow the company account.”

He screwed his face up in a half-smile-half-grimace, he’d been caught. “You don’t have a public account, thought it would be weird to follow you on your private one.”

You chuckled. “I would’ve let you follow me,” you told him. “You are my Prince Charming, right?”

He beamed. “Right,” he nodded. “Dinner?”

“Let me get out of costume,” you agreed. You started to walk off and he didn’t follow, unsure what to do. You turned back and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

He was very happy he had brought Mila to the ballet.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[marigraphia]

I've had this pose ref saved for a while and the Superman set photos just gave off the same energy 👉🏻👈🏻

The reference is this photo of Katharine Hepburn as Antiope and Colin Keith-Johnston as Theseus in the 1932 play 'The Warrior's Husband' (and I'd love for people to turn into a draw your otp meme pls pls pls this pose is so good)

And also, of course, the Superman (2025) set photos

[v6quewrlds]

can u write a fluffy clingy joe one shot?? maybe building legos or something!! i love ur work!! i hope u have a nice day!!🫶🏾

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: here's a fluffy little palette cleanser <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 0.9k.

The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as you stirred the pot of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. You glanced at the clock; it was already past six in the evening, and the darkness outside pressed against the windows like a heavy blanket.

"Joe," you began as you poured the steaming liquid into two oversized mugs, "I understand you're upset, but maybe you should take this week to recharge. Watch some movies, play some video games, do something that doesn't involve football."

Joe sighed, taking the mug from you with a nod of gratitude. "You're probably right," he admitted. "But it's hard to sit still when all I can think about is what we could be doing to fix things."

You kissed his forehead gently. "You can't control everything, Joey. Sometimes you just have to trust that things will pan out the way they're meant to." You leaned in for a quick peck, then stepped back to pick up your warm mug.

Joe sighed again, his eyes lingering on the TV that was muted in the living room, displaying highlights of the Cavs-Pelicans game. "Fine," he said finally.

You raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

"Fine," Joe repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we build that Lego set we got last Christmas?"

Your eyes lit up. "Seriously?" You had been dying to tackle the intricate, sprawling Star Wars that had remained in its box since Joe's brother, Dan, gifted it for Christmas. "You know I've been waiting for this moment."

Joe nodded with a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah, I figured it's time we put it together." He followed you to the living room, where you cleared the coffee table with a dramatic flourish.

You sat down across from each other, the instructions sprawled out between you. You picked up the instructions, your eyes scanning the pages. "Okay, we're building the Death Star," you said with a smile. "Where do we start?"

Joe leaned over, his sarcasm in full swing. "I'm surprised you remember what it is. You're the one who said it looked like a giant space donut when we opened the box."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, I know my Star Wars!" you protested. "The 4,000-piece count kind of took me by surprise, though."

Joe chuckled, sifting through the pieces. "Alright, space donut expert, let's get to it."

Your eyes were glued to the instructions, the pieces scattered around the two of you like a colorful minefield. A soft laugh filled the room as you held up a tiny Lego stormtrooper, your thumb and forefinger framing it like a photograph. "Look at this little guy," you said, grinning. "He's so cute."

"Cute? He's a symbol of imperial tyranny, babe," Joe retorted with a chuckle, earning a playful shove from you. Despite his initial hesitation, Joe was fully invested in the project. His mind was clear of the team dynamics that had consumed him all week. The Legos demanded his focus, and he gave it willingly.

You took a sip of your now lukewarm cocoa and leaned in closer to examine Joe's progress. "Looks pretty impressive," you said.

Joe glanced up, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's just Legos," he said, but you could hear the pride in his voice.

"No, it's not just Legos," you replied, setting your mug down. "I love it when you get all focused like this for something other than football. It's cute."

Joe rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Cute, huh?"

You nodded. "Yeah, like a big ol' teddy bear."

"Teddy bear?" Joe scoffed, but the playful teasing had lightened his mood. "I'll have you know I'm a very intimidating Lego architect."

You couldn't help but laugh at his defensive tone. "Oh, absolutely," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm quaking in my boots."

Joe smirked and tossed a Lego at you. It bounced off your arm and you feigned injury. "Careful there, Burrow," you said, your voice full of mock pain. "You wouldn't want to hurt the one who's keeping you fed and hydrated."

"Well, you're not helping much with the whole 'keeping me hydrated' part," Joe quipped, nodding towards his nearly empty mug. "I'll need more of that hot cocoa if I'm going to get through this."

You stood up with a smile. "Your wish is my command," you said, practically skipping back to the kitchen. As you brought the pot to a boil again, you watched Joe through the archway. The stress of the season had etched lines into his face, but as he worked on the Death Star, you could see them slowly smoothing out.

When you returned with the freshly filled mug, Joe took a grateful sip and leaned back, eyeing the progress. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I've been so caught up in work that I forgot how much I enjoy just... doing nothing."

You sat back down on the floor, your mug now steaming in your hands. "It's important to have hobbies," you agreed, your voice gentle. "Things that make you happy outside of football."

Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to the Legos. "You're right," he murmured, his voice a mix of acceptance and regret. "I just... I want to win so badly."

You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I know you do," you said softly. "And you will. But you'll have to wait a week to do it. For now, just enjoy the quiet."

[fastandcarlos]

Jealous And Pregnant : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

summary: with your hormones through the roof, all the little things send your jealousy skyrocketing

Your heart sunk as you watched Lance be fussed over by the makeup artist, her hands repeatedly brushing through his hair. The smile that was on Lance’s face had you feeling uncomfortable, almost as if you were the one intruding on the two of them. 

There were people everywhere as they prepared for the launch of the new car, with you blending into the crowd, Lance had no idea that your eyes were on him, concentrating on getting himself ready. 

The look on your face though caught Chloe’s eye as she walked through, taking a seat beside you as you placed your hands against your bump, trying your best to stay as comfortable as you could. 

“Just ignore him,” Chloe told you, following your eyes to see where you were looking. 

You wanted to, but the sound of Lance’s laughter pulled you straight back in again. Chloe placed a hand on your shoulder, watching Lance too with a shake of her head, surprised by how close the makeup artist was. 

“She’s always been a little flirty,” Chloe tried to defend, not wanting you to worry. “She’d flirt with a fish if you put one in front of her, I swear.” 

You smiled appreciatively back at Chloe at her attempts to try and make you feel better. “I thought he’d do a bit of a better job of telling her to stop, he almost looks like he’s enjoying it with her.” 

Chloe didn’t quite know what to say as she saw the smile on her brother’s face, part of her wanted to march over and drag him away, but she knew she couldn’t leave your side too with you heavily pregnant. 

“He adores you, he’s probably just being nice,” Chloe whispered, nudging against your side. “Don’t overthink this too much, it’s not good for you right now getting stressed.” 

You wanted to relax, to enjoy watching Lance get ready, with all the excitement to launch the car for the new season, but now you were on the edge of your seat, terrified about what could happen over in the makeup chair. 

“Lance is too nice to tell anyone to get lost, sometimes I wish he’d grow a backbone.” 

Chloe couldn’t help but chuckle as you spoke, “I bet if I went over and told him that you were upset right now, he’d be absolutely mortified, he’s just oblivious to people and their feelings sometimes.” 

“Maybe I should just go, before I end up hurting myself.” 

You stood up from where you were sat, walking out of the room to the front reception of the centre. It was much quieter than the bustle of the makeup room, giving you a chance to sit back and relax and try to forget about the lingering thoughts of what was going on with Lance at the back of your mind. 

Once he was finished with hair and makeup, Lance stood up from the chair, his eyes immediately searching for you. When he found Chloe, he walked straight over to her, noticing the disapproving look that she wore as soon as she saw him coming over to her. 

“You’re an idiot,” she scolded, hitting against his arm. “You could’ve made it a little less obvious that you were getting your hair done by that stupid stylist.” 

“Where is she?” Lance frowned, letting go of a sigh. “I wasn’t enjoying it, but it’s just got to be done. I should probably go and find her and fix things, right?” 

“She’s pregnant Lance, she can’t help how she feels.” 

Lance rushed out of the room and around the centre in search of you. He flew through every room, eyes darting around for you. As he got to the front of the building, he finally found you sat in one of the office chairs, staring out of the window. 

He slowed down as he approached you, grabbing a chair and pulling it over to sit beside you. You didn’t react when you felt Lance’s presence beside you, continuing to look out of the window, pretending that he wasn’t there. 

“Honey,” Lance whispered, placing his hand against your shoulder to get your attention. 

Lance could tell from the look on your face that you were upset, your body was tense, your brows slightly furrowed, breathing much heavier than it usually was. 

“I’m sorry if what happened back there upset you,” Lance added, “I didn’t think anything of it, but I can imagine how it probably looked from the outside. She’s got a bit of a thing for my hair, she keeps fluffing it, I actually find it quite annoying.” 

Your eyes slowly turned to look in Lance’s direction, “are you just saying that?” 

Lance’s head shook as he offered you a reassuring smile. “Honestly, I can’t really stand her, but she’s got a job to do. I don’t know what else you think happens between the two of us, but I promise that that’s it.” 

“I probably look stupid, don’t I?” You sighed, resting your hand against your bump once again. “These stupid hormones leave me never quite sure how I should be feeling these days.” 

Lance nodded understandingly; he’d been on the receiving end of enough of your mood swings to know that you were struggling. One moment you were smiling, the next crying, never quite knowing how to feel. 

His hand moved up to rest over yours against your bump, brushing the pad of his thumb against the back of your hand. Admittedly, Lance knew that he wasn’t the smartest when it came to seeing other people’s intentions, never meaning to upset you like he did sometimes. 

“There’s no need to be jealous of her,” Lance told you, leaning across to kiss your cheek. “You know that you’re the only person for me, there’s never been anyone else.” 

Your head nodded as you tried to stay composed, feeling your eyes begin to well up. Your hand quickly reached up to your eyes, wiping underneath them, which Lance quickly caught onto. 

His expression softened as he watched you, pulling you closer into him. As a tear rolled down your cheek, Lance quickly caught it with the back of his hand, wiping it away. 

“Please don’t cry,” he softly smiled. 

“I don’t mean to.” 

“I know, hormones,” Lance chuckled, knowing exactly what you were like. “All you need to know is that I adore you, and that there’s no reason to be jealous. If you want, I can see if I can get someone else to do my hair and makeup for the shoots from now on.” 

Your head shook as you leaned against Lance’s shoulder. “It’s ridiculous that I’m even getting jealous about something like this, you’re at work, and I know that you’ll always be professional. I can’t wait to have this baby so I can just feel normal again, without constantly feeling like I’m some sort of whirlwind.” 

“It’s alright,” Lance reminded you, “you don’t need to justify anything or explain yourself; I know how you’re feeling, even though it might not seem so.” 

Your eyes flickered up to Lance, “would it be easier if I just went? You’ve got enough on your plate today without having to worry about me.” 

“No, I want you here,” Lance assured you, “you’re a part of the team here and I want you to see the car, you’ve heard me talk about it enough times.” 

“I don’t want to be in the way Lance.” 

He tightened his grip around you, “you’re not in the way, I want you here more than I want anyone else here. I’ll make sure you and Chloe are sat together; she’ll be able to look out for you.” 

“And I promise not to get jealous,” you teased, “although from now on, the only person who gets to touch your hair, is me.” 

“My hair is all yours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[hyper-fixates]

old man logan preview cause i #needthat

warnings: 18+ below — afab!reader (no pronouns/gendered language), unprotected sex, DOMESTICITY, established relationship, age gap due to logan’s mutation (reader’s age not specified), 1 allusion to death.

notes: fuck any context for this. we raw-dog like men.

Excerpt 1:

“Look at the snow. Look,” you say in awe when you hear him shuffling along the creaky floor behind you.

It doesn’t look like anything special to Logan. He’s seen every type of snow, every type of storm Alberta has to throw his way; however, this may be the most mundane snowfall he’s seen that he can remember.

“What about it?” He says. He doesn’t know what’s got you so excitable. 

You look at him over your shoulder. “I’ve never seen a snowfall before,” you explain. “The snowflakes are so fat,” you chuckle as he comes to rest a hand on your lower back, peeking through the window over your shoulder at the snow dancing in the wind.

“Mhm, it’s nice.” He still doesn’t get it. “Go get ready. There’s more wood coming in a bit,” he dismisses with a gentle kiss to your cheek, dense beard poking into your skin.

He goes to the bedroom. You should follow, but you keep watching the snow.

In the moment, you don’t realize that while this is your first snowfall, it’s probably Logan’s last.

Excerpt 2:

The windstorm knocked out the power.

The blazing fire will probably be your only source of light for the rest of the night and into the morning.  

So, without power, there’s not much to do. But, you and Logan sit on the floor with him resting against the front of the couch. You sit between his legs, feeling the heat of him on your back while you watch his arms reach over and around you to set various sized coins on the coffee table to entertain—and educate, as he would say—you.

“That one’s so big,” you point out, leaning forwards and reaching for the gold coin. 

Logan wants to make a joke so badly, but he settles for a small smile at what little he can see of your perplexed expression from the side.

He rests his chin on your shoulder when you set yourself back against him.

You feel sparse little kisses to your neck and jaw, and you instinctually tilt your head a few inches to the left to let Logan wander where he pleases.

Excerpt 3:

The final night in the state was the breaking point. You had unburned, pent-up energy and cramping muscles that needed to be worn out if you wanted to survive the last day on the road before you got to the border.

So you pulled over and fucked in the passenger seat. 

Logan let you bounce on his cock until the lactic acid in your thighs made you cry out in pain and you physically couldn’t ride him anymore.

He made you drag it out—for both of your sakes. He wanted your hearts to pump hard and your lungs to sting with each inhale. He wanted your bodies to be fucked into a state of relaxation afterwards.

So, he didn’t help you ride him like he usually does. He didn’t help guide you by your hips up and down his cock. He let you do it all by yourself while he licked and sucked over your collarbones and teased your clit with his fingers.

You both came hard, laughing at the fogged-up windows while cleaning yourselves up with those rough, brown napkins everyone has in their glove compartment for some reason.

Then you continued on, satisfied.

[myechoecho]

Watch the first two episodes of When the Phone Rings and where has something like this been ALL year in kdramaland???

There is something delicious about how Sa Eon and Hee Joo are both in communication yet have zero communication with one another. I love that she told him off at the party in sign language knowing he would not understand. The fact that she's been quietly defying him this entire time and he's only just realizing it now.

Did I suspect that Hee Joo was not actually mute? Absolutely. It would have been more surprising if she was mute. However, I was floored when it was revealed that Hee Joo had the phone and was using it to taunt Sa Eon in a moment of sheer rage and hurt. The utter betrayal she feels because he told the kidnapper to go ahead an kill her then he has the nerve to say at the party she is his weakness what just too much for her. I fully support this deranged and brilliant move.

Now we get this bizarre flirtation between the two, with them weirdly learning more about the other all through the voice modulated cell phone that Hee Joo swiped. . Hee Joo taunting him with all he doesn't know about her. Sa Eon learning he does not know about Hee Joo and then becoming determined to learn about her. Though that, Hee Joo learning that he actually does care and probably always did. This is what is going to push them together.

Though for someone that says they are in absolute control of everything, it's slightly odd that Sa Eon would not learn sign language. Like what if she was telling the ambassador that she is being held hostage and needs help? I guess she's been isolated and hidden enough to not matter. Even the way he "confirmed" how she was home in order for him to say to the kidnapper to kill her was a bit lazy.

At the same time, there was clearly some nagging doubt that Sa Eon had. He was very much relieved that she was safe. He was also absolutely furious to learn that the kidnapping was real as seen by his bloody knuckles. Not sure why he thought he knew her when they did not speak through their 3 year marriage, but now it's driving him nuts to know that there are pieces of her he simply does not understand. He is going to rectify that.

I am very curious as to how their marriage came to be. The reveal at the end that it was Sa Eon to suggest the bride swap seemingly to save Hee Joo from marriage to a terrible person. Even though he is cold and indifferent to her and literally called her a hostage so it's still not a great situation for Hee Joo to be in. I have a strong suspicion that person texting Sa Eon was Hee Joo, and NOT her sister. The language used in the text is identical to the language Hee Joo used in the present to threaten Sa Eon.

If I am right about this, that opens up so many questions. Why did Hee Joo want to stop the marriage? Where is her sister? Did her sister know? What secrets of Sa Eon's family did Hee Joo know? Why did Sa Eon suggest the bride swap after leaning Hee Joo was to be married? Did he always care for her? Why did Hee Joo agree to this marriage, since the person on the other end of the text was obviously thrown by the suggestion? We know that Hee Joo's mom/step mom uses her father to manipulate her so that probably plays a role but is there more to it?

Clearly the kidnapper is also going to make a reappearance since he's not going to let all his carefully laid plans go to waste. The preview for the next episode has me excited. And Hee Joo and Sa Eon have bucket loads of chemistry.

I will end with my now obligatory rant on how this show should be 16 episodes. At least it's 12 episodes since those shows tend to work a bit better than the ones that are 10 eps or less. But I am still bitter about the episode count.

[hsunrry]

it’s positive // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~1,4k

warnings: smut18+, praise, dirty talking, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, pregnancy

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“gonna breed you so fucking good.” he panted, his dick disappearing inside your pussy at fast pace. “you want my cum, baby?” you moaned and nodded frantically. he gripped your hips tightly, slamming into you with wild abandon. “fuck, you feel incredible. i’m gonna pump you full, baby. mark you up inside and out.” his thrusts grew more frantic, driven by primal need.

“fuck, Harry.” you gasped, your back arching from intensity of it. he groaned deeply, hooking your legs over his shoulders and nearly bending you in half as he loomed over you.

“that’s it, take it all. gonna fill this tight little pussy to the brim.” the headboard of the bed slammed against the wall with each powerful thrust.

“you’d be such a good dad, baby.” you said between moans. his eyes rolled back as he heard your words, the image of being a father to your child hitting him hard.

“shit, fuck- you’re gonna make me cum so hard, love. i’m gonna breed you raw and make you a mama.” his release neared, his body tensing as his pace became almost punishing. “look at you, taking all of this so well. you’re mine, all mine.” he panted, his hands groping your breasts roughly as he thrust into you.

“fuck, i’m gonna come Harry, just like that, please.” you moaned. he growled possessively, his face contorting in pleasure.

“come for me. show me who you belong to. i want to feel you squeeze my thickness as i pour into you.” his breath hitching.

“yes, yes, oh fuck, like that!” you cried out, your pussy clenching around him. with a loud moan, he buried himself to the hilt one final time, his cock throbbing violently as he emptied his balls deep inside you.

“fuck yes, take my cum, mama!” you gasped at the feeling of him filling you up. he collapsed on top of you, his body spent as he nuzzled into your neck, kissing your skin gently. “you’re so perfect.” his voice was soft, his hands slowly caressing your body. “we’ll make a baby like that one day, god, i love you so much.”

“someday, yeah.” you gasped with a smile. “i love you too.”

“let’s clean up and then we can go again.” he nipped at your earlobe. “i want to leave you aching and swollen, every step a remainder of who you belong to.”

after few weeks from that night, you were laying in your bedroom in your shared apartment and sleeping peacefully. he stirred, his eyes fluttering open to find the morning light streaming through the curtains. he smiled as he gazed down at your peaceful face nestled against his chest, his fingers idly raking through your hair. he leaned down to press a tender kiss on your forehead. you smiled softly in your sleep, but when you opened your eyes, you rushed into the bathroom without a word. you kneeled down in front of the toilet and threw up. concern etched on his face and he followed you to the bathroom. he knelt behind you, gathering your hair and rubbing your back soothingly. “honey, what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i probably ate something yesterday.” you shrugged, flushing the toilet. he helped you to your feet, his brows furrowed as he examined your face.

“you’re pale. here, sit down.” he guided you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, his mind racing. suddenly, his eyes widened. “have you been feeling nauseous lately? maybe a little queasy in the mornings?” his heart pounded in his chest, hope and fear warring within him. he reached out, gently placing his hand on your stomach.

“well, yeah, but i should get my period anytime now, i mean it’s late few days, maybe that’s why i’m a little more sensitive.” you smiled softly. his eyes shone with excitement and trepidation.

“but… what if it’s not your period?” he swallowed hard, his hand still resting on your stomach. “i know we said we’d wait, but… do you think there’s a chance that you could be pregnant?”

“Harry, i’m on injections, only way i could possibly be pregnant on them would be either miracle, or if i took them few days late.” you smiled softly. “which i didn-“ you stopped, realization hitting you. “oh shit, i did had last dose few days after i should have it.” his breath caught in his throat, heart racing.

“you did? oh my god…” he cupped your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he searched your eyes. “does that mean… could you actually be pregnant?”

“no, i- i can’t be, right?” you shook your head. “it was just two days late, my doctor said it shouldn’t happen.” you said, looking at him nervously. his heard sank slightly, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of hope.

“baby, nothing is 100% guaranteed. and with the symptoms you’re having…” he took a deep breath, his eyes soft with love and concern. “maybe we should just take a test?”

“yeah, we can do that.” you said after few seconds of thinking. his face lit up with a soft smile, relief washing over him that you were at least considering the possibility.

“okay, i’ll go to pharmacy then.” he stood up.

“no, i… i think i actually have some i bought just in case one day.” you said, standing up from the edge of the bathtub and looking for it in one of the cabinets. he watched as you searched through the cabinet, pulling out two pregnancy tests. “okay, i’ll do them now.” he nodded, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before reluctantly stepping out of the bathroom.

“okay, i’ll be outside. take all the time you need, sweetheart.” he paused at the door, glancing back with a worried smile. “whatever happens, we’ll face it together, alright?” you swallowed quietly and nodded. with one last look, he stepped out of the bathroom, closing the doors softly behind him. you sigh, quickly doing both of them. when you were done, you set them on the counter and you opened the doors to let him in. he walked back into the bathroom, his eyes immediately landing on the two pregnancy tests on the counter. after couple of minutes he smiled, squeezing your shoulders gently. “okay, let’s see, shall we?” you nodded softly. he took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to pick one of the tests. he turned it over, his eyes scanning the results window. he felt the air leave his lungs as he saw the clear positive sign. “it’s… it’s positive, love.” you swallowed hard, taking the second one to see that it’s positive too. his eyes welled up with tears of joy and disbelief. he set down the test gently, his arms immediately enveloping you in a warm, loving embrace. “we’re going to have a baby.” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “oh my god, this is… incredible.”

“i’m scared Harry.” you said quietly, looking up at him. he gazed down at you, his eyes shimmering with love and understanding.

“i know, sweetheart. it’s a big, scary, beautiful thing.” he gently cupped your face in his hands, thumbs lightly brushing away the tears that fell down. “but you’re not alone in this. i’m here and i’ll always be.”

“i know.” you said quietly.

“we’re in this together, every step of the way. i’ll be right here, holding your hand through all of it. the good, the bad and everything in between.” he smiled softly, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke.

“i love you so much.” you smiled. his face lit up with pure joy, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“and i love you. so much.” he sealed his promise with a tender kiss, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “we’re going to be amazing parents, you’ll see.” you nuzzled into his body when he hugged you. he held you close, the two of you just standing there in the bathroom. he felt happy and content, knowing it’s the new beginning of something beautiful with the love of his life.

[whoreforsexymen]

The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)

Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.

Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.

Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.

Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.

Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍

(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer. Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.

With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.

Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.

This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.

To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.

You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.

The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.

"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."

As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.

They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.

"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.

If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.

After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"

His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.

You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.

"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."

Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.

A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.

“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.

Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.

"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.

"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.

"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.

Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.

“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.

You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.

You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.

Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.

“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.

It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.

The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.

A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.

You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.

You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.

All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.

It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.

His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.

You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.

Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.

He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.

He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.

You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.

You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.

Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.

By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.

As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.

You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.

His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.

Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.

Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.

It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.

“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.

“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.

“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.

[hyperions-light]

okay everyone today let’s talk about profound, overwhelming emotion as a theme in Veilguard

Sounds fun right

Gonna do like a sort of deconstructed essay thing (or I WAS, but this is an actual essay. Sigh)

Thesis: DATV is exploring how its characters confront and process emotions and events so overwhelming that they could define the characters entire lives if ignored or pushed aside; the player is encouraged to provide the characters with the appropriate emotional tools to dismantle the seemingly impossible obstacles that stand in their way, in order to complete their character arcs and contribute to the resolution of the central conflict.

WOagh this got way long, like REALLY long, so I am cutting here. I hope you didn't think the Grey Warden essay was verbose, bc this is much longer! You've been warned lol

PART I: ISATUNOLL

I feel like we have to talk about Harding first bc what’s more overwhelming than having the entire history of your race shoved on you at once? (I've decided to relocate to the computer, so you know I'm taking this seriously) So Harding gets magic rock powers, and then you have that sort of lull in her story where she's just trying to feel them out, but you can already see the game setting up the dilemma, because she's constantly checking against Rook to see what they think about it. She doesn't know how to feel-- should she be worried, excited? You can encourage her down different paths, but whatever you choose, you're providing a way for her to conceptualize this thing that (as far as she knows) has never really happened to anyone else.

And then when you go to meet the Oracle, the game introduces the idea of this overwhelming rage, this intense frustration that IS hers, but also isn't. She (probably) doesn't know what happened to the Titans by that point (you can do Regrets of the Dread Wolf pretty early but idk if it's able to be finished at that point?) but I think the stone giant you fight there is her inborn anger resonating with the much larger, dormant anger of the Titans. And you see her deny her own anger and her own feelings generally (the coffee scene with Lucanis, while tonally lighthearted, is intended to set this up). Again, Rook can intervene, and this time you also see your companions providing their own advice (Lucanis and Taash both tell her not to hide her anger/try to make people happy and Davrin repeatedly urges her to stand and face 'whatever it is' directly). So both Rook and their friends are supplying tools to deal with this upcoming confrontation.

So, the culmination of the arc comes in Isana Negat, where Harding faces the physically manifested anger of the Titans in the form of herself. She says it is her anger, and it IS, she is angry and they are angry, together; Isatunoll-- I am, we are. She did not know what to do with it, and that is why it is here; the game is positing that avoiding confrontation and acceptance of one's feelings can lead to harm for oneself AND for others. It IS Harding that is attacking you, because it was her raising the enemies in the cavern. But, at the same time, Harding is here out of a desire to protect others, and she is compassionate to this manifestation; she apologizes for not knowing how to confront it and letting it run wild in this way.

Fortunately, by this point Rook and company have already provided her with the tools to be successful in this encounter. She does not turn away from her anger, she does not attempt to run or dissemble as she might have done before. By the time Rook reaches the platform she has already absorbed the being; she is just having a hard time fully accepting it. Rook and the other companion physically grab hold of her, as Rook directs her down the path of acceptance through compassion, or acceptance through embracing anger. It is important that neither choice offers a denial. Through the strength of the unity of the team, here represented by physical closeness, and because Harding herself has changed as a character, she is able to integrate the Titans' anger and affirm that she and the other dwarves will continue to persist in spite of what was done to them. DAI players may recognize this as a well-placed echo of the conversation thread between Solas and Varric about the man who persisted in spite of losing everything; Varric said then that the fact that the man lived, that he continued, was a triumph in itself. The dwarves triumph as a race here, by not allowing the horrific violation committed against the Titans destroy them, and so does Harding.

The final piece of Harding's journey is her meeting with Stalgard and his sister outside of Isana Negat, in front of the mountain that was/is a Titan. She returns to them the knowledge that was lost for centuries, and the anger that comes with it, but affirms that they cannot return to what was; this brings change, GOOD change, to the dwarven people and will redefine them. By successfully accepting this outsized emotional trauma, Harding has helped her people, and becomes a more effective member of her team. Catharsis, acceptance, and emotional growth make her stronger.

PART II: I AM NOT THIS

When Rook meets Lucanis, he has been kept in a prison for a year, being tortured and violated by the Venatori, who have been attempting to turn him into a demon. It hasn't worked correctly, because Lucanis and Spite have an accord. However, you first see him just kind of running around killing whoever he comes across; Rook provide direction and a specific target, a chance for freedom. It is significant here that the prison is underwater; Lucanis is, metaphorically, drowning. The prison is also referred to as the Ossuary, which is a place you store the bones of the dead; the outside world believed he was dead, and, metaphorically, he did die here. You kill his torturer, but it is not enough; the woman who kidnapped him and the orchestrator of his violation still lives.

Rook returns to Treviso where Lucanis finds out that he has truly lost almost everything. His grandmother, Caterina, appears to be dead, and his city, Treviso, is occupied by the Antaam. The only thing he has left is Illario, and he immediately grabs onto the idea that Zara, who he believes killed Caterina, is going to kill Illario, too. He panics in response, but he is trained as a Crow to shut down his emotion, and practiced at doing so from his year spent constantly disassociating in the Ossuary. He says he needs to work; Illario and Teia protest, but he insists. He is returning to the thing he knows how to do, grabbing for a sense of normalcy when everything else is lost and he believes the little he has left is in danger. He will destroy the threat and this will also conveniently allow him to put off his real emotional trauma from the prior year.

Every cutscene Rook has with Lucanis between his major plot events in this section involves him trying to contain and ignore Spite. He tries to constantly stay awake to ensure that the demon cannot take over, and he tries to befriend and placate his new associates by buying them stuff (a VERY rich person thing to do) and taking care of them. He is trying to convince himself and them that he is NOT dangerous; he is not a demon, not an abomination. But he is not confronting his fear, he is only putting it off; often, in conversation with others he will be flippant about Spite, or he will deflect their concern about it. He chooses his 'bedroom' in part because it can contain Spite, and because it is the farthest possible location from the Eluvian, where Spite keeps trying to go (I just noticed that! Very fun!). In the meantime, he is also ignoring the fact that Illario is being extremely suspicious, because he doesn't want to know that his brother is the one who hurt him. Lucanis is an astute person by nature, and could certainly have observed this, had he not been deliberately trying to obscure it from himself.

Davrin is a huge problem for him because he is the most direct person in Veilguard. He shows up and tells Lucanis that if Spite overtakes him, he will kill him. This touches on Lucanis' fear of his own lack of control and drives too directly at what he wants to ignore. They are immediately at odds, which is made worse by Lucanis' 'failure' at Weisshaupt, which causes him to lash out at Davrin. He believes that the fact that he was unable to kill Ghilan'nain is indicative of him losing his abilities as an assassin, which is one of the only familiar things that he has left. Fortunately, Rook and company are there to reassure him; the situation is helped by the presence of Taash, Emmrich and Neve, who are unafraid of Spite, and whom he can rely on to control the demon if he cannot. However, the problem remains that he refuses to seriously deal with Spite in any way. As the inextricable representation of Lucanis' trauma (it would LITERALLY kill him to remove it), ignoring him means Lucanis is unable come to terms with what has happened.

This comes to a head when Illario kills Zara, and Lucanis is unable to stop Spite from almost murdering his brother with his own body in response. This is the final, most devastating loss of control. He apologizes to Rook for the lapse, and tries to refocus on Illario, who he now has definitive proof betrayed him. He says he is going to take everything away from him, but truly this is just another distraction; revenge is not going to be enough because it will just mean that he has nothing on which to focus his and Spite's combined ire, and then he will still have a demon inside him and no accord. What saves him is Rook, and finding out that Caterina is still alive. This is fantastic news because it means he hasn't lost everything, but it also presents a dilemma; is it more important to attack Illario, to seek revenge, even if it endangers Caterina's life? Does he risk what he values most-- his family-- to pursue his vengeance?

I was going to write an entirely separate post on the mind prison, my favorite part of Lucanis' arc, so I'll (try) to be brief here. The metaphorical Ossuary is a prison of Lucanis' fear; those he is scared he will hurt, or who will see him for what he believes he is: a demon. In order to get him out of it, Rook needs to cooperate with Spite, and confront each fear individually, breaking down their flawed presuppositions about Lucanis which are trapping him there. It is also significant that Lucanis himself is unable to articulate that he is trapped, and is even unable to ask for help; it is Spite who invites Rook in and concretizes Lucanis' emotional state. He can't get out alone. When Rook reaches Lucanis he admits that he has been avoiding his emotions but that, "It's just... so much. I don't know where to begin."

What happened to Lucanis was life-alteringly traumatic. It is unsurprising that he does not have the tools to effectively confront it. However, Rook encourages him here to begin the process by creating an agreement with Spite in the short-term. Process your trauma by breaking it down and taking it one step at a time. After this section in the game, the player can hear Lucanis converse with his friends about trying to work with Spite; about how the spirit is learning to understand the physical world, and they are no longer fighting. Again, we see that ignoring his emotions was hurting both Lucanis himself and other people, and that by moving forward, no matter how slowly, he can regain control of his life and build a new one alongside Spite, accepting the new circumstance.

When he confronts Illario for what he did and, incidentally, control over the Crows, he does not kill him. He never loses control and he and Spite work together to resist the blood magic that Illario attempts to use on them. Working through his problems with the support of his team allows Lucanis to preserve what he values-- his family, the Crows-- instead of pursuing an endless and ultimately pointless crusade of death in an attempt to avoid his problems. He makes the Crows stronger and heals himself through confronting and accepting his emotions.

PART III: I WILL GO AND SEEK ATONEMENT

Hey it's Solas! Remember how this game used to be called Dreadwolf? That was probably because he's the thematic anchor of the narrative. So, here we go. (This section is going to discuss the 'good ending' for Solas, because I don't think the others really feed into this theme much.)

Solas is the instigator of the conflict in Veilguard, and he may be an antagonistic force throughout the story, depending on how Rook chooses to deal with him. This game gives confirmation that Solas is a spirit, and so the generally established rules apply: he acts as you expect him to act, he is what you expect him to be, so the player is likely to have wildly variable experiences with him.

Throughout the game the player can encounter sections which depict his greatest regrets in his life so far; taking physical form, creating the weapon that severed the Titans' dreams, incidentally creating the Blight, accidentally sending Mythal to her death, and accidentally creating the Veil (dang, nothing goes right for this guy lol). This series of decisions led, in Solas' time, to monumental harm for countless people, and it is what has led him to his current course. He cannot stop because he is utterly trapped in his regret; these moments, though degraded, surrounded him within the Lighthouse while he planned for a decade. The Caretaker tells you that his regrets are so vicious that they are the teeth with which Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are tearing into the Crossroads. Solas is destroying something beautiful he helped build because he is unable to let go of the past.

Although you, dear reader, may have your own opinion of him, Solas is undeniably compassionate. In DAI, he will give you massive amounts of approval for simply helping out villagers and performing menial tasks that serve no greater purpose than to alleviate suffering. The amount of suffering he (mostly) unintentionally caused could do nothing but horrify and pain him. His regret is oceanic. If you decide to persuade him to your side at the end of the game, one of the reasons he cites for continuing down his destructive path is because it would dishonor those he has wronged if he were to abandon his work. He is sunk cost fallacy-ing himself into mass murder, basically.

Part of the reason that he is doing this is because, like with Lucanis' issues, the emotion, the weight of the repeated failure is almost too big to effectively reckon with. But Rook can help him do it. Throughout the game Solas watches through his avatar in the Lighthouse; he sees Rook build their team, sees them solve the problems of the people around them and find strength in unity, and so when they appear in Minrathous he does actually believe that they can solve the problem that he cannot. He is deceiving Rook when he gives them the dagger, true, but this is his most valuable asset in the fight; if he did not believe in their success, it would be extremely foolish to give it to them and to commit himself to the comparatively lesser evil of Lusacan. So, Rook has effectively proven the Power of Friendship, as it were, through their actions in Veilguard.

To achieve the 'good end' for Solas, you need to have finished Regrets of the Dreadwolf and successfully confronted the fragment of Mythal that lives in the Crossroads. She will be impressed by your work in proportion to the amount of things in the game you've finished, so you must have bonded with your companions and you must have freed the Crossroads from the ravages of Solas' regrets. He helped make the mess, but other people can help him fix it, which is essentially the point that Mythal makes to him at the end; that he's not literally solely responsible for actually every bad thing that's ever happened.

You also have to tell the Inquisitor to attempt to reach him, which will lead to them saying something about forgiving his past actions if he stops trying to destroy the Veil presently (I assume the dialogue is similar in the friendship route; I have a Solas-romancing Inquisitor and that's basically what she said. I felt that part was general enough it probably carried over). All of these people and various pieces of Solas' past and present are here to break down the gigantic wall of regret that's preventing him from doing the right thing in this moment. All of his arguments for why he must keep going are refuted by these people he cared for, and to whom his regrets are attached.

Through Rook's actions they have demonstrated their ability to solve seemingly overwhelming problems. You can help Harding tame the anger of the Titans, you can help Lucanis confront his trauma, and you can help Solas finally see past his regret and be the hero he has always wanted to be. This is obviously not the only route the player can take through the game, but if they do, they help create a narrative that repeatedly deals with deconstructing and resolving overwhelming emotion. (Dear readers, remind me to make a post about Bioware games and participatory storytelling.) The story examines how intense emotion, ignored or denied, hurts oneself and others, and presents several solutions which all begin with asking for help. There is strength in unity, in compassion and togetherness, and if you cannot see the way forward alone, you will find it with other people.

WhEw okay if you actually finished reading that give yourself a high five and take a lollipop from the basket on your way out the door

on any other platform I think I would have hit a word limit of some kind, so thanks tumblr

edits incoming? very tired rn. Think I had some other point to make about Solas that I forgot maybe. I also think I could've added some of the other companions to this (Taash and Bellara were top candidates) but imo these two are the strongest for this particular theme. And it was already so long lol

okay I sleep soon. you can lmk what you think if you want? don't be a dick tho, I hope that goes without saying lmao

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Twenty Eight: I Bite SS: 18 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 3.2K Content Warnings: talks of murder, talks of blunt force trauma, Minho butt hunter mentions, Previous Next Masterlist

The living room is bathed in the warm, amber glow of the setting sun. Dust motes drift lazily through the air, catching the light filtering through the partially drawn curtains. Hayun, Jisung, Minho, Felix, and Jeongin are sprawled across the couches. The coffee table is a war zone of empty snack bowls, discarded honey butter chip bags, and soju bottles in various stages of emptiness.

Hayun’s legs are stretched out across Minho’s lap on the loveseat, and he’s absentmindedly massaging her ankle while sipping from his soju bottle. His fingers press into the arch of her foot, eliciting the occasional involuntary sigh from her. The faint hum of TikTok videos plays from her phone, the screen illuminating her face in the dim room.

Jeongin leans forward in the armchair, tapping his fingers on the neck of his soju bottle, his expression one of barely contained excitement. “Hyunjin’s supposed to be here soon. The second he gets here, we’re updating the murder board. I’ve got markers, post-its, magnets. All the fucking works.”

Jisung groans dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “Dude, we’re supposed to be chilling, not solving crimes right now. You’re, like, aggressively obsessive about that board.”

Jeongin shrugs, unabashed, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Well, someone’s gotta keep this shit together. If it were up to someone, we’d all be sitting here watching Levi Ackerman edits and eating expired ramen.”

At the mention of Levi Ackerman, all eyes swivel toward Hayun. She’s curled up on her side, completely engrossed in her phone. She doesn’t even glance up, her thumb scrolling as Levi slices through Titans in slow motion, his signature scowl practically radiating from the tiny screen.

Minho leans over, peeking at her phone with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? Isn’t that guy, like 5’3” or some shit?”

Hayun finally tears her gaze away from her phone, her expression filled with righteous indignation. “Yeah, and?”

Minho smirks, leaning back against the loveseat. “Just saying, he’s not exactly intimidating. I could probably punt him across a field.”

Hayun scoffs, sitting up straighter, her tone dripping with mockery as she shows Minho her screen. “But could you look this good doing it?”

Minho narrows his eyes at her, and Felix nearly chokes on his drink, laughing. “Oh, she got you there,” Felix says, pointing at Minho with his bottle. “Levi might be short, but he’s got should have been the main character energy. You? You’re just the funny best friend.”

“Wow,” Minho mutters, holding a hand to his chest as if physically wounded. “The fucking disrespect in this house.”

Jisung jumps in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “It’s not disrespect if it’s true, dude. Levi’s untouchable.”

Hayun smirks, leaning into the banter. “Exactly. Levi Ackerman came first. Sorry, Minho.”

The room erupts in laughter, and Minho throws his hands in the air, his smirk still lingering despite the ribbing. “You’re all traitors. Every single one of you.”

Jisung, emboldened by the chaos, sits up straighter, pointing a finger at Minho. “She can have a 2D boyfriend and a 3D one, but let’s be real, you two haven’t even put a label on it yet.”

Minho’s smirk falters slightly, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his attention to Jisung. “And have you put a label on it with Hyunjin? Or are you still just stuttering every time he calls you cute?”

The jab lands perfectly. Jisung freezes, his soju bottle halfway to his mouth. He glances around the room as if searching for an escape route. “Oh, wow, look at that! Is that a crack in the paint? Someone should definitely fix that.”

Jeongin leans back in his chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “You’re deflecting. That’s a classic guilty move, Ji.”

Felix nudges Jisung with his elbow, laughing. “Spill it, dude. Did you make out with him or what?”

Jisung glares at Felix, taking a long swig of soju before muttering, “You’re all fucking annoying. Maybe back off and focus on Hayun and Minho’s ‘will-they-won’t-they’ bullshit.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat as he rests his arm casually along the back, just behind Hayun’s shoulders. “There’s no mystery. I’m clearly her favourite.”

Hayun, without missing a beat, takes a sip of her soju and deadpans, “Right after Levi Ackerman.”

The room explodes into laughter again, and Minho throws his head back with a groan. “You wound me, princess,” he says, clutching his chest in mock agony.

Jisung is doubled over, laughing so hard tears are forming in his eyes. “She said what she said! You’re runner-up, my guy. You’ve been bested by a fucking anime character.”

Felix raises his bottle in a faux toast, his voice filled with mock solemnity. “To Minho: second place to a fictional character who’s shorter than most children.”

Jeongin chimes in, grinning. “Levi’s got that energy, though. Can’t compete with that.”

Minho flips them all off, shaking his head. “Fuck all of you. I’m done. You’re all banned from my car, my house, and my life.”

Hayun, still grinning, raises her glass and clinks it against his bottle. “Cheers to that, second place.”

Minho glares at her, but the corner of his mouth twitches upward, betraying his amusement. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The front door swings open, and Hyunjin strolls in with Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin trailing behind. Hyunjin doesn’t waste time, flopping onto the couch like it’s his own place. He pulls a bottle of soju from his tote bag.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, taking a swig before leaning back dramatically. “Yeji had severe blunt force trauma like I said in the group chat. The hit came from someone around her height, but that doesn’t narrow it down much. You know, heels, platforms, the whole deal.”

He pauses for effect, watching as the group leans in. “The weapon was cylindrical, like a pole or something. The dead person doctor wasn’t sure.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, resting his hand casually on Hayun’s shin as she reclines beside him on the loveseat. “And the guy just told you all of this? Just handed over the autopsy details?”

Hyunjin grins, his confidence borderline obnoxious. “Yeah. A sucker for crocodile tears. I pulled out my best ‘poor grieving cousin’ act. Flawless, if I do say so myself.”

Chan shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re ridiculous.”

Hayun shifts, her legs still draped over Minho’s lap, and leans forward slightly. “Cylindrical, like a pole or-” Her voice trails off as her eyes lock onto the murder board. “A police baton.”

The room stills. Jeongin grabs a marker and strides to the board, scrawling “#1 Suspect” under Mr. Shin’s picture with bold strokes. The tension in the room tightens, like a noose around the group’s collective theory.

Jisung raises his bottle in a mock toast. “Honestly, we should digitize this board at this point. Easier to keep track of all the crazy shit we’ve been uncovering.”

Jeongin smirks, twirling the marker between his fingers. “Already done. It’s on my laptop, saved on two separate flash drives, just in case.”

Hayun nods approvingly. “See, this is why you’re the brains of the operation.”

Felix laughs, clinking his bottle against Jeongin’s. “And the most paranoid.”

Hayun, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin all move to stand in the middle of the living room, passing the marker between them like they’re brainstorming for a high-stakes exam.

Jisung tosses the marker to Hayun. “Maybe Mr. Shin followed Yeji when she went to check on the body?”

Hayun catches it effortlessly, spinning it between her fingers. “What if he found out the truth? Ryujin killed Yuna, and Yeji stashed the body. He could’ve snapped.”

Felix grabs the marker mid-air. “But he didn’t kill Ryujin.”

Jeongin snatches it next, tapping it against his palm as he speaks. “Maybe he’s spacing it out. Put some time between the murders. Less obvious. Or maybe because he already lost one daughter and doesn't want to lose a second"

Felix nods thoughtfully, handing the marker back to Jisung. “Or what if Ryujin gave him some half-truth? Like, she wasn’t entirely sure about the plan she made with Yunnie to frame Mingi.”

Hayun narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. “So she gets ahead of it, tells her dad what Mingi did to her and how Yuna was involved.”

Jeongin adds, “Then she spins it so Yeji’s the villain. Says Yeji killed Yuna and forced Ryujin to stay quiet. Mr. Shin flips, makes Yeji take him to Yuna’s body, and then BAM!” He claps his hands for emphasis. “Smacks her over the head, she dies, and he dumps her in the tank.”

The four of them stop, staring at the board as though waiting for it to confirm their theory. The room feels electric with energy, theories bouncing off the walls.

From the corner of the room, Minho leans back, watching them with a bemused expression. Chan nudges him, gesturing at the chaos. “Is this… normal?”

Minho smirks, resting a hand on Hayun’s abandoned bottle of soju. “Completely. It’s how they think. They bounce ideas off each other until something sticks.”

Felix tosses the marker back to Hayun. “Ryujin didn’t know where Yeji hid Yuna’s body, right?”

Hayun nods, pacing slightly as she speaks. “Not until the news broke. Yeji was the only one who knew.”

Jisung catches the marker from her, spinning it dramatically. “Then Mr. Shin had to follow Yeji. Or maybe Ryujin told him Yeji was involved.”

Felix snatches it from Jisung with a quick grab. “What if he held Yeji at gunpoint? Forced her to take him to the body?”

Jeongin grabs the marker next, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “So we all agree? We're investigating Mr Shin?"

There’s a pause as the room collectively breathes in. Then, all at once, everyone says, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Hayun grabs another bottle of soju from the crate near the couch, twisting the cap off. She drops back onto the loveseat, and Minho immediately wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her snugly into his side. She lets out a soft sigh, resting her head on his chest as she takes a sip of her drink.

Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his own bottle in hand, frowns thoughtfully. “Wait. How the fuck do we even go about investigating a police officer? Like, what’s the play here?”

Everyone falls silent for a moment, glancing around at each other like someone’s supposed to have a genius idea locked and loaded.

Seungmin finally breaks the silence with a deadpan expression. “Apparently, the jury’s out on that one.”

Chan leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and shrugs. “Anyone got any ideas? Even bad ones. At this point, I’ll take literally anything.”

That’s all the encouragement Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin need. They light up like Christmas trees, clearly ready to share the absolute worst plans possible.

Jisung lifts his bottle in mock seriousness. “Okay, hear me out: we tunnel into the police station. Like, fucking gopher style. Steal his files, then scurry back out before anyone notices.”

Hayun raises her hand lazily from her spot against Minho. “Claustrophobic, so I’m out.”

Minho chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Smart move.”

Hyunjin sits up straighter, his face deadly serious. “Alright, my turn. I could seduce him.”

Felix squints at him. “He’s straight, though, right?”

Hyunjin shrugs dramatically, a smirk playing on his lips. “You don’t know until you know.”

Felix takes a slow sip of his soju, nodding in reluctant agreement. “That is… more than fair, actually.”

Changbin claps his hands together. “We fake reports of gas leaks in his neighbourhood. Say he needs to evacuate his house for safety.”

Jeongin blinks at him, his voice dry as the Sahara. “He’s a fucking police officer. He can check that shit.”

Hayun snorts softly against Minho’s chest, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

Jisung, undeterred, raises his bottle like he’s making a toast. “We could kidnap him!”

Hyunjin jumps in immediately, smacking Jisung’s hand in a high five. “And torture him for answers!”

Minho groans loudly, staring at them like they’ve grown second heads. “They just need to hurry the fuck up and either fuck or get together or something.”

Hayun nods sagely, tipping her bottle toward Jisung and Hyunjin. “Agreed. It’s painful to watch.”

Jisung turns to Chan with a mock gasp after hearing Chan mutter about a lack of brain cells. “Excuse you! Hyunjin, Changbin and I are professional theorists, okay?”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “Theorists of what? Dumbass ideas?”

Jisung smirks. “Creative solutions.”

Hyunjin leans into the bit, flipping his hair dramatically. “Visionaries, if you will.”

Chan groans, running a hand down his face. “Why the fuck did I agree to come here tonight?”

“Because you love us,” Hayun says sweetly, raising her bottle in a toast to him.

Chan mutters something unintelligible into his drink, but his smirk gives him away.

Seungmin rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “We’re doomed.”

The house is steeped in a drunken warmth when the group finally winds down from their chaotic night. Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Minho, and Seungmin have all decided to crash at the house, their earlier drinking rendering driving an impossibility.

Jeongin pulls Chan upstairs toward his bedroom with an easy grin, Chan following with his own subtle smirk. The two disappear into Jeongin’s room, the door clicking shut behind them without a word to the others.

Meanwhile, Felix drags a massive air mattress out of the airing cupboard, huffing as he unfolds it in the middle of the living room. “Help me with this shit,” he says, nudging Changbin with his foot.

“I’m not the one who owns it,” Changbin grumbles, but he helps anyway, rolling it flat as Hyunjin tosses some pillows and blankets onto it. Seungmin simply sits on the couch, sipping water and watching the chaos unfold with a faintly amused expression.

Once the mattress is ready, the three of them settle onto it, Hyunjin taking the middle and sprawling out dramatically. “Room for one more?” he jokes, earning himself an eye roll from Seungmin and a snort from Changbin.

“You’ll be lucky if we don’t smother you in your sleep,” Seungmin mutters, lying on his side and pulling a blanket over himself.

“Love you too,” Hyunjin chirps, before flopping onto his back with a satisfied sigh.

Felix heads into his room, mumbling something about needing to scroll through TikTok to relax. Jisung waves lazily before heading to his room, shutting the door behind him. Minho and Hayun linger in the hallway for a moment before Minho follows her into her bedroom.

Inside, Hayun flicks on her bedside lamp, the soft yellow glow washing over the room. She peels off her oversized jumper, revealing a black lace bralette and black yoga shorts beneath. Her fluffy Hufflepuff socks stay firmly in place, adding a touch of cosy absurdity to her otherwise sleek look.

Minho leans back against her door, watching her with a small smirk. “You really commit to the aesthetic, huh?” he teases, nodding toward the socks.

“Comfort first, Minho,” she retorts, tossing her jumper into the corner. “Unless you want to lecture me about dressing up to match my pyjamas.”

“Never,” Minho says with a grin as he pulls off his hoodie, followed by his t-shirt.

His toned torso gleams faintly in the dim light, and he doesn’t miss the way Hayun’s eyes flick over him before she quickly looks away. He chuckles quietly, stepping out of his cargo trousers until he’s down to his boxers.

Hayun climbs onto her bed, watching as Minho joins her. She stretches out, letting out a small groan. “Soju makes me so fucking tired,” she murmurs, her voice soft and lazy.

Minho nods as he pulls the blankets over both of them. “Yeah, it’s like a whole-body shutdown,” he agrees, lying on his side and curling around her. His chest presses flush against her back as he wraps an arm around her waist. The warmth of his body radiates through her, making her sigh softly.

Hayun’s voice is muffled against her pillow as she speaks. “Reckon Hyunjin will end up in Jisung’s bed?”

Minho snorts. “Probably. Those two are a disaster waiting to happen. You know something?”

The room falls into a still, golden glow as the faint sounds of the house settling outside Hayun’s door fade into silence. Minho shifts slightly, the playful ease he carried all night giving way to something softer, more serious. His arm tightens just slightly around her waist, pulling her closer as his breath brushes the back of her neck.

“You know…” His voice is low, almost hesitant, the weight of unspoken thoughts threading through his tone. “I never followed through on that text I sent after Mr. Han pulled his abduction bullshit.”

Hayun turns her head toward him, her curiosity piqued despite the quiet comfort of their position. Her voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something earnest beneath it. “The one where you said you’d kill me and then kiss me for making you worry?”

Minho exhales a quiet laugh, his lips quirking in a faint smile that she can feel more than see. “Yeah, that one.” His tone softens, carrying a quiet intensity. “The killing part? Not as appealing.”

She smiles, her voice steady but laced with a playful edge. “And the kissing part?”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. The air between them grows heavier, the unspoken tension building as his fingers trail absently against the curve of her hip. Then he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s hovering just slightly over her. The dim light catches the flicker of emotion in his eyes, his expression unreadable but intent.

Minho’s gaze locks onto hers, the room shrinking until it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. The space between them hums with anticipation, every second stretching out like an eternity.

“Sounds fucking divine,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a deeper, huskier register as he leans down, closing the distance.

When their lips meet, it’s soft at first but it deepens quickly. His hand cups her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture so gentle it makes her heart stutter. Hayun’s fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly as she tilts her head, pulling him closer. The kiss grows more deliberate, the world outside dissolving as they lose themselves in each other.

Minho’s lips move against hers like he’s memorizing the moment, his other hand pressing lightly against her waist to keep her grounded. Hayun feels a warmth spreading through her chest, a quiet intensity that’s equal parts comfort and fire. She’s not used to this. To letting herself be vulnerable, to feeling safe. But in Minho’s arms, it feels right.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against hers, his breaths coming a little quicker. His dark eyes flicker open, meeting hers with a small smile that softens the edges of his usual confidence.

“Well fuck,” he whispers, his voice rough around the edges. “Should’ve done that sooner.”

Hayun’s fingers linger in his hair, her lips still tingling. She chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Yeah. Took you long enough.”

Minho’s grin widens, a playful glint returning to his gaze. “Guess I was waiting for the right moment.”

He shifts back down, lying behind her once more and wrapping his arm around her waist again. His chest presses firmly against her back, his thumb resuming its soothing circles against her hip.

“You’re such a sap,” Hayun murmurs, her voice teasing but tinged with affection.

“And you fucking love it,” he fires back, his tone light but confident.

She smiles, her hand coming to rest on top of his where it lies against her stomach. She doesn’t say anything, but the small, contented sigh that escapes her lips says everything she doesn’t.

“Goodnight, princess,” Minho whispers, his voice a quiet murmur against her ear.

Hayun shifts slightly, leaning back into him. “Goodnight, Minho,” she replies, her voice soft and filled with a contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

As the room falls into silence, the gentle rhythm of their breathing syncs, the warmth of his body a steady presence at her back. Outside, the world keeps spinning, but here, wrapped in Minho’s arms, everything feels still, safe, and undeniably theirs.

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - The Eclipse

I am back again and I got a big boy drabble for you today @spotaus

After the amazing drabble they did about Nightmare losing the magic. I decided it was about time I tried my hands at the event that brought forth the magic!

Also we are back to Ccino POV. I don't know what it is about him in this series I just love him dearly and adore his POV. Once we move more into the story I will probably do other people's POVs haha.

Warnings! We are in for a rough time because Ccino never has it easy and that is like 90% my fault. There is past abuse, past starvation, victim blaming (kinda), there is gaslighting, there is manipulation. Implied future abuse.

There is a lot and I need you to be aware of this.

Also... It... may be a bit long? As in 10K words long. So... just so you know it is long. With that out of the way! Lets Go!

*--------------------------------------*

Ccino isn’t sure what to feel. He knows he should be proud and feel excited. Today was the twin’s birthdays. They were finally turning thirteen. Something everyone in the kingdom has been excited for for the last few years as this day grow closer.

Ccino sighs as he feels his body shake. Even as he makes sure that Nightmare’s outfit is spotless. It is a beautiful light yellow. It will fit in perfectly amongst the golden and yellow decorations but Ccino can only assume it is on purpose. To show Nightmare’s rank and position as prince as Dream ascends. To see they belong together and are connected by their bond as twins.

Nightmare frows as he tugs on his shelves. Ccino gently takes his hand and removes it from the soft fabric “Hey. It is okay my prince.” He puts the sleeves back in place and is happy to note there are no ruffles.

Nightmare frowns as he turns his skull away. Ccino frowns as he makes sure the outfit is perfect.

Nightmare mutters “Still think they are stupid for making you wear pink…”

Ccino blinks and looks down at his undershirt. It is a very soft light pink and there are yellow accents. He smiles as he twists his skull a bit to enable himself to look better at Nightmare “Really? Why is that my prince?”

Nightmare shrugs and mutters “Pink doesn’t suit you… beige is better.”

Ccino smiles “I do love the neutral and nature colours… But your brother was allowed to pick everything for his big day.” And it was only fitting that the new king’s gift was exactly as he wanted-

Ccino shakes his skull. He needs to stop thinking about it like that. He isn’t the one who matters here.

Nightmare is anxious. Nightmare’s twin is about to be crowned and become king. Complete this mysterious ritual. Ccino had to be there for him. Nightmare had found information and mentions about this great sacrifice and pain. Something that Dream had to do or experience to ascend to godhood.

Nightmare had come to him near tears. Terrified his brother would be hurt by this ritual that was going to happen no matter what. Nightmare had said he had tried to warn Dream but Dream just told him he was nervous and that everything would be okay. That Dream would become a god like their mother and Dream would rule their kingdom.

Nightmare had spoken about how he had gone to his mother with his worries but Nim just dismissed him. That Nim had just told him he was seeing things wrong again and that he was letting silly ideas get the better of him again.

Ccino isn’t surprised she was like that. Nim is just like that. A terrible and horrible-

Ccino stops himself. He can never be sure what she knows and what she doesn’t.

Instead, even back when Nightmare came to him, he concentrated on helping Nightmare. Helping him calm down before looking at what he had found.

Ccino wasn’t even sure what it was but he knew… he knew that Nightmare was correct. This magic, this ritual it is dangerous.

But there is nothing Ccino could do to help him. Ccino doesn’t know magic. He can’t even do magic. He knows nothing about magic or what it all means. He was only able to hold Nightmare close until he fell asleep for the night. Ccino letting him sleep in his room with him to help him feel safe.

Ccino doesn’t know magic…

But Ccino remembers… He thinks he remembers at least… He believes that his mother used to sing… That she could do magical things with music. Ccino thinks their little house used to be filled with music.

His father had these... magical kisses? Ccino thinks so at least… That his father could give kisses when you were hurt or sad and everything felt better… Something about his magic only working because of Ccino and his mom…

Ccino thinks so at least…

He can’t really remember what his father looked like…

He just knows he is supposed to look like his mom… but he isn’t sure as he can’t remember her well either… It has been so long

Nightmare shifts before him and Ccino pulls himself out of his mindless thinking. Ccino turns Nightmare around and hums “The yellow looks nice on you…”

Nightmare pulls on his shirt anxiously “You think so? I think it looks weird… yellow fits Dream. Not me.”

Ccino smiles as he knows how to handle this easily “Really? I think it looks nice.” he gently takes Nightmare’s hands as Ccino ignores the scars on those small bones from his practise cuts “Yellow compliments purple after all. Makes your eye lights stand out more.”

Nightmare looks deeply embarrassed but has a shy smile “Really?”

Ccino smiles “Have I ever lied to you?”

Nightmare shakes his skull and looks a bit more relaxed as he looks back into the mirror. Ccino looks him over and smiles. Nightmare, and Dream, has grown into a fine young teen.

Ccino can’t help but be proud of both the twins. Ccino has always been closer to Nightmare as Dream had many others who seemed to want to answer his every request. Which meant that Ccino just focused on Nightmare when he could. Make sure the younger twin didn’t feel left behind.

Ccino is proud to say that he managed it. Nightmare is happy and never mentioned feeling alone. He mentioned missing his twin when he went to his classes but aside from that Nightmare was happy and healthy. Dream was too.

The twins adore each other and are the closest friends. Both are happy and healthy.

All in all. Ccino thinks he has been doing a great job with helping and raising them.

Ccino hums as he moves to Nightmare’s front and starts putting up the little golden and sun jewellery. Careful all in the right spots. Decorating his thin neck and the fragile wrists.

Last Ccino picks up the small silver crown and places it on Nightmare’s skull “Almost done my prince.”

Nightmare stares at him “We are alone.” And he waits.

Ccino blinks and smiles softly “My prince-” Nightmare frowns more. Ccino sighs but can’t stop smiling “Nightmare. You know I have to address you properly.” He can’t stop himself as he rubs the smaller skull and Nightmare leans into it happily “I am just a servant. People can’t see me disrespecting you like that.”

Nightmare frowns again “I don’t care.” And he glares more “and you are not just a servant. You are you.”

Ccino smiles and nuzzles him softly “I know you don’t care Nightmare. And I would like to not care either. But… it isn’t right or how it works…” he gives him a sad smile.

Nightmare frowns and mutters “Maybe… When Dream is king he can change that?” he looks a bit more hopeful.

Anxiety returns to his soul. Ccino doesn’t want to be important and known… He forces it back down as he gives a gentle smile “As king he won’t get the chance to do such things until much later Nightmare. He can’t risk being seen as weak or someone who is easy to disrespect. Once things calm down we can maybe ask him. Okay?” much later.

Nightmare frowns and mutters “Who would disrespect him? He would be a king and a god!” and he looks at Ccino.

Ccino feels bad. Seeing as he doesn’t respect Nim at all. And Nim is like that. Ccino instead gives him a tiny grin “Some people will just be like that. Even if they don’t have a good reason. And no matter how much you want them to you can’t change their minds.” He rubs his cheek “Which means you can only focus on what matters to you and the country.”

Nightmare frowns before nodding “I can do that for him. Help him.” He rubs his arm and whispers “Do… do you think the… the bad thing will happen?”

Ccino frowns “I am not sure Nightmare. I am so sorry…” he can’t help him when it matters… Ccino wasn’t even sure why he thought he could help either of them in a way that matters.

Nightmare leans into his touch and mutters “At least you believe me.”

Ccino feels a bit better as he speaks softly “And I always will. Even if no one else believes you. I will. I will be there for you. I swear.” It is an easy promise to make to him.

Nightmare actually smiles this time.

Ccino relaxes as he slowly gets the paint and make up out “Ready for the last finishing touches?”

Nightmare nods and takes a seat. Ccino gets the paint and gets to work. Ccino had to do these very early on for both the twins. Dream would want to get up and move around while Nightmare would patiently wait for Ccino to finish and for the make up to dry. Ccino never minded it of course. It was fun! It reminded him of finger painting and practising make up with his mom. It are dear memories.

Ccino starts with a bit of paint by Nightmare’s cheeks and his chin. To make sure the edges look softer and a bit rounder. Next he adds a very small line of golden yellow around the very edge of his sockets. Ccino hadn’t been lying after all, yellow did help make purple stand out more and with this is made the purple pop. Ccino then took the silver and with the utmost care he painted the phases of the moon from one temple to the other across the forehead. Making sure the full moon was at the very center. Ccino didn’t even need to redo it today.

Ccino smiles as he takes a step back “All ready.” He washes the paint and make up from his phalanges.

Nightmare hops off his chair and looks into the mirror “Will you have to also do Dream’s paints?”

Ccino shakes his skull “Not today. I believe the king is helping your twin prepare.” He finishes cleaning himself up and puts everything back to its spot.

Nightmare nods as he looks into the mirror anxiously “It is okay… it is fine… Dream will be fine…” he tugs on his shirt again.

Ccino joins his side and frees the shirt from the tight hold. After it he tugs it all back in place before stepping back “There. You are ready my prince.” And he gives a small bow “Very soon. Crown prince.”

Nightmare rubs his arm. Luckily the material the shirt is made of doesn’t crumble easily and it remains looking nice and puffy. Ccino needs to make sure Nightmare looks fine and no one can say anything rude to Nightmare about it.

Ccino joins his side and smiles “Hey… Nighty?” Nightmare immediately looks at him. Ccino keeps smiling. Praying it helps relax him “You are going to do amazing. You will look stunning together with your twin and you two have bright futures ahead of you.”

Nightmare gives a very slow nod before he mutters “Will you be nearby? I know it is private and only for the inner circle until the real crowning but… Will you please be near?”

Ccino smiles “Yeah. I will be close by.” For completely different reasons…

Nightmare relaxes and smiles brightly “Thank you… I need you there to feel brave.”

Ccino feels like his soul is gripped as he gives him a gentle hug. Making sure not to mess up Nightmare’s outfit or make up “You don’t need me for that Nightmare. You are the bravest monster I know. But I will be there okay? You will see me right there okay? And if you start feeling scared or unsure you can look at me and know that there will always be people who believe in you and are there for you. Okay?” He rubs the cheek.

Nightmare pushes his face more into it and lets out a soft purr “Thank you.”

Ccino smiles “I am happy to be there for you. Both of you.” He hears footsteps in the distance and quickly takes his hand back as he steps back. Nightmare looks confused for a moment before the door behind him opens.

Ccino bows to the captain entering “Captain.”

The captain, a bird monster by the name of Falks, dismisses him but that is alright. Ccino doesn’t mind at all. He knows that most of the higher ups kind of know the deal that is about to happen.

Captain Falks bows to Nightmare “Hello my prince. I am here to lead you to the king and the future king.”

Nightmare nods before looking back at Ccino “See you soon Ccino.” And he follows the captain out.

Ccino makes sure to remain in his spot until the door closes. When it closes he feels all the tension return as the need to hide in one of the tunnels returns. He doesn’t want to go there.

He doesn’t want to be at the ritual.

Because… That will be the moment that he…

That his…

He is right now the king’s after all. Nim just only had use for him as babysitter and servant. Ccino knows… he knows what the little apple patterns on his clothes mean after all.

Ccino feels his breath quicken as he grabs a hold on the vanity and gasps as his breath gets shorter and shorter. He stares at himself for a moment before looking away. He can’t stand the sight of himself. Seeing himself hurts… Seeing himself brings back memories he can’t quite remember and pain and fear from long ago. He can’t deal with that. He can’t.

Ccino gasps as he takes a seat on the ground and curls up more. This is it… today… he will be… he won’t…

He… he is never going to see Nightmare ever again? Is he?

He doesn’t know what the ritual does. Not exactly.

But Nim had pulled him aside and given him an idea. How it changes the person. How it increases their power and that with it came the knowledge that they were more important than any mortals. That their power and their ability to hold and manage that power is the proof.

That once Dream gets the power he will finally get the power he deserves. He will have the power and knowledge that will make him the god among people.

That Ccino will be there for him in any way he wishes. For anything he wants.

Any. Thing.

Ccino feels gross just thinking about it.

Footsteps in the hallway and Ccino has to pull himself together. He forces himself back to his feet even if his whole body shakes. Even if he can’t stand the sight of everything around him.

He just manages to pull his face into a more neutral look and slow his panicked breathing when the door opens. Some guards stand ready and mutter about bringing Ccino to the room to prepare him for the ritual.

Ccino follows the guards. His soul pulsing fast enough that Ccino is starting to feal dizzy. He keeps his breaths short as he follows the familiar path.

They end by the healing bay and he is left by the door. The door opens and two medics are there already. They rush Ccino in and comment about him being later than expected. Ccino apologises as he stands in the room.

He hears the two healers talk as he stares ahead of himself. Trying so hard not to hear. He doesn’t want to hear it.

Ccino stares ahead of himself. The other wall has shelves which hold a lot of different items and potions. Ccino knows that some of those are against exhaustion and to give more energy. There are health boosters and even a few that will just knock you out. All different colours.

The scents are making his already dizzy skull spin and pound. He may be starting to get migraine.

The doctor snaps “Ccino!”

Ccino blinks and turns slightly “Yes sir?”

The doctor, Nigel, looks annoyed while the other healer, Mar, giggles “Don’t be mad at him. Can you blame him? He will be the future King’s first mate.” They sigh wishfully “I am so jealous… I wish I could be the one who helped Dream like that.”

They disgust Ccino. Ccino doesn’t care that technically Dream is about to magically become an adult. He is a child! One who barely started puberty! How could they think about him like that? Like they are just waiting for him to grow up so they can… so they can think and do those things to him?!

Doctor Nigel sighs annoyed as he stares at Ccino “When did you last eat and what?”

Ccino needs to think. He hadn’t eaten that morning… He hasn’t had dinners in ages much like lunches. His last breakfast was… “Day before yesterday.” If he is correct.

The doctor looks annoyed “Seriously? You pigging out again? You know that you need to look your best.” He sighs as he shakes his head.

Ccino just looks down. He just had been so hungry. He had felt so empty and tired. He had thought… Maybe a little wouldn’t be bad? Just to get a bit of energy.

Nigel looks at him expecting “What did you eat?”

Ccino looks to the side. Feeling guilty “Had some toast… and some yogurt and milk.” It had been so good. He had felt full after it and sighed happily.

The doctor huffs “Pigging. Out.”

The other giggles “Oh let him pig out. Maybe then King Dream will see that he is not that much anyway. Let someone who is actually pretty get a chance to please our new lord.” They sigh wishfully again.

Nigel shoots his colleague a look “Stop it. You can try to get in his harem once he is established.” He turns back to side as he grabs a step stool “The first mate always dies quickly anyone. They are there for the king to test their power and magic after all. Rather painful from what I understand.” He points towards the step stool “Undress and on the step stool.”

Ccino feels sick and feels his soul pulse anxiously but his body does as ordered. He feels beyond exposed as he stands there. Staring downwards as the two doctors circle him and comment on things. He can hardly hear it. His skull hurts.

Doctor Nigel hums “Luckily none of the lashes gave permanent marks after all. It would be unsightly for our future king to see marks of disobedience.” He makes a note as he moves on and checks his ribs and spine. Touching it and Ccino tries to ignore how invasive it feels. “Age?”

Ccino needs a moment to think “Twenty.”

He hums and makes a note “That should fertile then. Good. Summon your ecto.”

Ccino really doesn’t want to. His soul is filled with anxiety but he tries.

Nothing happens.

The doctor looks annoyed “I said. Summon the ecto.”

Ccino doesn’t look up “I can’t… I don’t have enough energy or magic.” Maybe he can’t summon it at all anymore. Maybe it is broken? Would that mean he doesn’t have to worry about this whole thing anymore? If he is unable to summon the parts needed… If he is too broken to serve his purpose…

The doctor grumbles as he walks to the cabinet and searches through the bottles before pulling one out “Here. Drink it.”

Ccino looks at the bright orange liquid and feels sick just looking at it. It smells gross. It looks disgusting. It is much too solid to be a normal drink.

Mar laughs as they smirk at him “What is wrong? Suddenly not a glutton anymore?”

Ccino doesn’t want to… But he remembers the pain of the lashes. The way each one burned. They way they would wait between the hits. Until his back was fully healed before giving the next one. Healing it magically, fast and aggressive which left his back tender and hurting of pains that weren’t there anymore. Then the next lash would hit.

He still feels the pain sometimes. Which is dumb. Ccino knows he isn’t hurt anymore. It got healed years ago and it doesn’t hurt. There is nothing there that could hurt. Everyone told him as much. To stop acting as if he is hurt when he was fine.

Ccino downs the potion as ordered. It is gross and sticks to his throat and it feels unpleasant. The unknown and different magic in the potion makes him sick but he stands there.

Nigel nods “Now. That should give you enough magic and mana to at least last through the night for our new King. Now summon so I can inspect your ecto.”

Ccino feels sick but does as ordered. He focusses on his soul. Even if the pulsing of it is uneven and anxious it is better than to think about the hands touching his ecto. Hands he doesn’t want to touch him anywhere.

He stares ahead. Staring at the different coloured bottles. Two are purple. One is blue. There is a green one on the side. Most of them don’t have a colour and three are yellow. All on different shelves. None of them have labels.

Doctor Nigel steps back as he takes notes “Seems fine and stable enough. A bit too round but that is too be expected from your gluttonous nature.” The doctor makes notes.

The other giggles “Best hope the king likes them heavier.” And Mar giggle again.

Ccino hates it here.

The doctor shoots his colleague a look “Behave. It will not look good for you if the first mate doesn’t like your behaviour.” And he shoots Ccino a look “You can get dressed again. Others will come pick you up soon to get ready.” And he turns to his desk. The other doctor huffs and shoots Ccino a jealous look.

Ccino would willingly and gladly trade places. Do it. Take his place. He doesn’t want to be some offering to placate a newly ascended god. Ccino knows what everyone implies he will do to do that. He feels sick.

Either way he gets dressed in the much too soft cotton with the almost silky feel to it. It is soft as he tugs on it. His soul feels like it has permanently moved to his throat. He still feels dizzy, the other magic in his body makes him feel sick.

Everything about this makes him ill. He wants to hide. Just not go. Fuck it. Stay in the hidden tunnels and just keep hiding there until they give up on searching for him. No one ever found him in those tunnels anyway.

The image of Nightmare looking hopefully into the crowd when he feels nervous. Ccino not being there.

He can’t… He can’t break his promise to Nightmare.

The door opens and a few maids walk in. They all seem excited and happily tug Ccino with them. They talk about how lucky he is and how he doesn’t need to worry! That people will make sure he looks pretty and then the new King will not be able to keep his hands to himself!

Ccino just smiles and nods. Not sure if he can keep himself from throwing up if he starts talking.

They get to the large dressing room. Normally used for making and fabricating outfits for the royals and nobles. Ccino feels his anxiety returns as the maids leave him with the seamstress Sasha. Sasha looks beyond excited as she looks at different outfits.

She hums happily “I am so excited! It is the greatest honour to have been allowed to make your outfit. I made a few options and the current king and future king already expressed their preference!” she smiles brightly as she holds up different outfits “I have a few that were approved upon and I made sure they will fit the decorations!”

Ccino nods as he lets her talk. Everywhere there are flags and banners with little suns on them. The symbol of Dream. A small sun for the golden prince. Dream had been so excited when they picked his symbol when the twins turned ten. Nightmare had been excited about his own symbol in the form of the moon.

Ccino watches as the seamstress pulls out this beautiful dress. Lower back and cuts by the lower part and legs to enable easy movement.

Sasha smiles as she holds it up “I know I know. A dress is the go to but I wanted to try just in case! Please put it on.”

Ccino takes the clothing item and gets dressed. Feeling numb to the exposed feeling by now. He waits on the verdict.

She beams “Oh you are so pretty!” she looks excited as she rushes to the other outfits she laid out “But I think the dress isn’t your fit after all. Don’t get me wrong you look gorgeous but it just doesn’t seem right! It doesn’t show off your best sides well as it is designed to look good on people with more curves.”

Ccino is never sure what people want from him. Some say he is too fat and a glutton. Others say he doesn’t have enough curves. He really tried to do as ordered and only eat and drink what he is supposed to. He doesn’t understand why his body isn’t like they want by now. He swears he tried.

He is so tired.

Sasha brings out this pants and shirt set which feels a bit more comfortable. Ccino doesn’t like how open the back is as it gives him bad memories. The only times his back was uncovered was when they… they…

The shirt itself is very tight around his neck. And shows off most of his spine. The pants themselves hang low on his hip bones. Barely staying up as it is while the pants legs are long and cover him to the ankles.

The seamstress hums as she looks considered “This shows off your skeleton nature much better than the dress did! Your spine is so clean and pretty! I am sure the king would love to be able to see it easily! I will have to make a note of that for any future outfits!” she makes a note as she grabs the next outfit.

The shirt has shoulder pads this time and covers his spine a lot better. The sides are mostly open but it isn’t as short as the other one and it only shows a bit of his lower spine.

Instead of pants this outfit has more of a skirt to it. It still hangs low on his hips but there is a very short tight pants under the skirt to keep it in place. The sides of his legs are almost completely uncovered aside from the tight pants but the skirt part gives him at least the illusion of modesty.

Sasha hums as she looks between the outfits “I think that one is best.” She smiles a t him “Feeling pretty and ready to rock the new king’s world?” she is trying to hype him up.

Ccino gives a small smile and speaks softly “Mostly nervous.” Which is the most truthful and honest thing he can safely say.

She gasps “What? You don’t need to be nervous! He is going to be so happy to see you! You are so pretty he is going to be blown away!”

Ccino doesn’t feel pretty. He just feels sick and uncomfortable. It is so close now. Before he could mostly ignore it but now it is really going to happen. He is going to be promoted from babysitter to sex slave. And there is not a single thing he can do about it. Yet Ccino is the idiot and weird one for not being excited.

He wants to cry.

He takes his seat as the seamstress talks about his make up and what she picked out. It is mostly just some touch up. She mentions that putting much more on would just make him look fake and make him lose his natural beauty.

She disappears to the corner where she opens a locked box. There are golden chains in there. Well, not actually chains but necklaces and bracelets apparently, they may as well be chains though. Ccino watches as the other puts them on him. By his arms. His ribs. One as a choker. She coos and praises how pretty he looks. Ccino doesn’t feel like he is all there anymore.

Heavy steps and moments later the door opens.

The seamstress bows deeply and Ccino looks down as well. Making a bow as far as he can without disrupting any of the work done on him.

A moment of silence before a pleased hum “Good. You got cleaned up and made yourself look presentable. Come. We are about to start.”

As they walk Nim reminds him once more of what his role will be and what he will do. Ccino echoes the instructions back to her when prompted.

He is lead into the throne room and there is a silence. Ccino feels his arm start to shake as he makes his way towards his spot. Ccino tries not to panic.

This is it. There is no turning back now.

Ccino just stands in his spot. Near enough to step forwards when it is his time. Ccino tries not to think about what will happen to him after today. What his life will be after this. Ccino glances around.

There aren’t as many people as he would expect. The only people are the king’s advisors. The captain of the guard and a few extra guards. And Ccino of course.

None of the maids or servants are actually here with them.

Ccino glances around and sees people all getting ready. A priest as well. To perform the crowning of Dream as Nim will be unavailable.

Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like this ritual or what he knows about it.

From what he understand… the king will give up her magic. Make it form something for Dream to take and consume. Consuming the magic will give him powers and magic and the ability to ascend. Then. Once it is time. Something of great emotional importance is supposed to happen. That the magic will guide Dream to do what is needed for him to finish ascending.

Once ascended. Dream will be first crowned to the small select group here and then to the kingdom as a whole.

Ccino is supposed to step forwards when Dream finishes his ritual but before he is crowned. Ccino will join his side and remain there through everything.

Ccino still doesn’t understand how it will affect Dream. All the king ever told him was that Dream would within seconds grow from teen to an adult and all the feelings, knowledge and emotions that came with it would happen all at once. That it would make Dream ready to rule. The ritual would give him the understanding for what happened and how so he can perform it himself when the time is right.

Ccino thinks it isn’t right.

But maybe that is just him. He doesn’t like the magic in this place. His memories still see magic as the voice of his mother singing and some stuff moving on their own to help her with chores. Of his father holding him close and giving a kiss to his little bruises and them feeling better. They told him magic was about joy and love.

Here… they always spoke about rituals and blood and sacrifices. Ccino had seen them sacrifice animals before.

He doesn’t like it.

He hates it.

Ccino had had to clean up cuts on Nightmare’s hands from past rituals. All in preparation. Nightmare had been near tears as it hurt. Ccino remembers telling him that it can’t be actually that good of magic if it hurts him.

Ccino isn’t sure if he was even helping at this point…

Not that it matters… He probably won’t see Nightmare much after this… As he will just… be wherever and whatever Dream wants him to be and do and-

No. Stop. Don’t think about it.

Ccino tries to distract himself.

The hall is decorated with large banners. All with pictures and images of the sun and light. Gold in colour and making the room seem lighter.

Ccino suddenly understands his outfit colour choice. It seems to mirror the colours of a sunrise.

Nim steps out of the side door and walks towards her throne, her mask on her face. She stands before it as the hall is immediately quiet. Moments later Dream and Nightmare walk out together and stand on both of her sides, both wearing their own masks.

Nightmare looks anxious and Ccino manages to catch his eye through the tiny openings of the owl mask. Nightmare seems to relax a little.

That is good.

That is much better.

The King speaks up and her voice sounds out “We are here today. For the next step in our glorious kingdom. As I will ascend to take my rightful place among the stars. As my son will take his own rightful place. A god on this world. Like myself.”

Excitement rises in the room as Nim raises her arms and hands to her chest. And It lights up.

It is scorching hot. It is burning.

The light is bright as Nim holds out the light. It slowly condenses into a single form. A glowing apple. She turns slowly. Her body already starting to fall apart as she starts to dust. Her hand holds out the glowing apple to Dream.

Dream wiggles slightly in place before raising his mask to the top of his face to reveal the big smile before looking serious again as he steps forwards. He holds out his arms and hands.

Nim stands still for a moment before she places the apple in his hands but keeps holding on.

Dream looks determined and nods “Thank you. Mother. May you rise to be above the other gods.”

Nim nods and lets go of the apple. As soon as the contact is gone. She is gone. She falls apart and her mask falls on top of the pile of dust.

The apple is a perfect golden colour. It isn’t shining anymore but it reflects the light beautifully.

Dream steps forwards and smiles “Hello everyone. For this glorious day. As the old king and my mother takes her rightful place among the stars and gods. As I stand before you to claim my own place in the growing history of our family. To make them proud and do as they hava done before me.”

Ccino notices Nightmare looks nervous as he shoots him looks. Ccino gives him a tiny smile and Nightmare seems to relax before he gains a look of focus in those eye lights.

Dream smiles as he raises his arms up high.

Which is when Nightmare rushes him and tackles his brothers. The two twins struggle for a moment before Nightmare manages to grab the apple and take a few steps away.

Dream stares from his spot on the ground in shock “Nightmare?!”

Nightmare doesn’t say anything. He is shaking lightly before Nightmare finds his eye sight again. Nightmare raises his own owl mask to the top of his skull, he takes a deep breath and bites into the apple.

Something in his body changes. Ccino can see an almost hazed look on Nightmare’s face as he bites. And bites. And bites. Eating the apple even if he seems to almost choke on the mouthfuls.

And then the apple is gone. Core and all.

Nightmare stands there for a moment before starting to lean to one side before leaning towards the other. His body shaking. He starts to shake more and more as Nightmare rolls up as he hugs his own form. Then Nightmare starts screaming and sobbing as he falls to his knees.

Ccino feels his own body shake. Ccino feels himself take a step closer.

He is hurt… He needs to…

A guard stops him.

Ccino can’t look away from Nightmare. Nightmare is just shaking and sobbing as he stays on his knees.

A cracking of bones. The ripping of clothing. And large limbs burst out of Nightmare’s back. Ccino sees them move and wriggling around dripping of Nightmare’s blood. But Ccino watches as the red colour darkens little by little until it is a solid black instead. It continues to drip on the ground as Nightmare shudders.

Then he stops. Everything stops. The screaming, the shaking, the sobbing.

Silence.

Nightmare slowly rises to his feet. The goop moving and dripping slowly off his form to drip on the ground. Nightmare looks around the room. His clothes ripped in many places as parts of it remain on the ground covered with that same sticky black goop that used to be red and liquid and his blood.

“How could you!?”

Nightmare blinks and turns to stare at Dream. Dream glares at him as he shakes with pure rage.

Dream screams “How could you?!”

Nightmare however doesn’t react. He just keeps staring at his brother. Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like the look on his face. It is the same look as with the apple… Ccino also doesn’t like the look on Dream’s face. The open rage and anger.

Dream knows magic. Nightmare does not.

Ccino doesn’t think and rushes away from his spot. The guard who had a hold on him before had let go in shock. Ccino side steps any hands as he rushes to the raised platform and thrones. He rushes up the stairs and gets between the twins. Holding hands up to both of them as he gives them both a strict look “No fighting.” He would have wanted his voice to be louder. But he can’t. Even now he can’t shout at either of them. He never could.

Dream looks away with angry tears in his eyes. Nightmare freezes as he stares at him. Ccino looks back at him.

His face isn’t the same anymore. The sockets are all wrong and the eye lights aren’t right either. Nightmare is much taller and doesn’t look in anyway like he did. The magic that he emits is even different.

But… the angle of those shoulders… Nightmare is scared and confused.

Ccino needs to get them somewhere else. He needs to get them out of view of others. They need to calm down and they need to figure out what is next. Was… Was Nightmare instructed by Nim to eat the apple after all? But… that doesn’t make sense?

No. Focus. No use trying to figure stuff out when it isn’t the priority. Get the twins to the back. Get them situated.

Ccino takes a deep breath before turning towards the waiting crowd with a smile on his face. He makes sure to tugs his hands behind the small of his back as he speaks with his cheerful people pleasing voice “We will be in the back to clean up before we continue. Please excuse our new king and the crown prince for just a moment.” And he bows deeply before shooting Dream a look and motioning towards the back.

Dream still looks angry but does as told as he moves towards the back. Ccino rises and gives a deep bow to Nightmare “My lord?” Nightmare is king now… right? so he should do this?

Nightmare looks bothered. It isn’t the same face he pulls but it is the same reaction as before. At least that look from the apple is gone. He just looks confused and overwhelmed. Nightmare moves towards the back without a single glance into anyone’s direction. Ccino uses the general confusion to rush into the room after them.

Okay. Okay.

What now?

The room is quiet as Dream continues to glare at Nightmare. Nightmare frowns at him as he raises a hand “Dream… I…” he shakes his skull as that glint in his eye lights returns before he manages to shake it.

Dream glares as he shakes “How could you! I trusted you! Everyone always said you just wanted the throne! I defended you! Said you would never betray me! Yet you do?!” angry tears appear in his sockets as he glares.

Nightmare shakes his skull again. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to. I…” He frowns. So confused.

The door slams open and Ccino notices Nightmare flinch at the sound before Ccino is grabbed and turned around. Captain Falks is there glaring “What the fuck did you do?!”

Ccino blinks as two more guards join them. Ccino looks back at Nightmare and Dream “I… I got them out of sight? Stopped them from fighting.”

Falks groans “Yes! That is the problem! You stopped the ritual!”

Ccino feels any insecurity and nerves leave him as it replaces him with rage “Of course I did?! In case you didn’t notice! It went terrible! Of course I got them out of sight and calm before they could hurt each other!”

Captain Falks glares “The leftover prince was never supposed to take the apple! This is a disaster! He was supposed to just be there for the future King of Light Dream!” Falks glares at the twins before glaring at Ccino again “This is a mess and you made it worse.”

Ccino flinches as he looks to the side “What is done is done… We need to be quick…” he glances back and can’t help but notice that Nightmare is very much barely dressed at this point as he ripped out of his clothing and Dream is overdressed with the too large clothing. Swimming in the bright orange cape and the softer coloured dress pants and shirt. Ccino nods to himself “We will need to get them both ready quickly. A new outfit for King Nightmare is a must. He can’t be crowned when he is barely dressed. Dream will need cloths that are form fitted for him now instead of how he could have been.” His mind is racing as he looks over to the two guards behind Falks.

It are cadet Rogers and Cadet Miles. Okay. Ccino has seen them before and they are both ambitious but are loyal to the crown. Ccino looks at Miles “Miss Miles. Can you get back to the hall and keep the people calm? We may need more refreshments for them.” Miles gives a nod and Ccino focuses on Rogers “Cadet Rogers. We need to make sure we aren’t bothered. Can you make sure to stand guard?” Cadet Rogers nods with a salute and moves to the door together with cadet Miles. Ccino looks at Falks “Captain. We need the priest to remain here and remain ready to crown Nightmare and vow him in. While I get the prince and king ready you need to go to the priest and give him a small update that Nightmare will be sworn in instead-”

Falks glares “Who do you think you are to order me and my guards around?”

Ccino freezes before giving him a look “We need to act quickly and adapt to the change.”

Falks huffs as he looks disgusted  “I will not serve a fake king.”

A moment of silence and shock goes through Ccino. He also feels… rejected? Dejected? It doesn’t make sense. Ccino instead focusses on the moment “How is he a fake king?”

Falks huffs “You are an idiot. He was never meant to be king. He was there to make sure that Dream would rise to his rightful place. Not be a useless and jealous brat and take it for himself! He didn’t even finish the ritual!”

Ccino glares “He did.”

Falks smirks “Oh believe me. He did not.”

Ccino glares as he starts to recount what he knows “He ate the apple. Legends speak that anyone unworthy of absorbing the magic would perish. Nightmare survived and was able to gain the power it gave. Meaning the magic decided him worthy.” Falks blinks but Ccino continues “Nightmare is a son of the old king Nim just like Dream. Are you really disrespecting the royal bloodline?” Falks looks a lot more worried. Ccino goes for the finishing blow “Not to forget. The ritual spoke of a large betrayal. I do believe. That eating the apple and betraying his twin would count as such.”

Ccino may not agree with any of these thought and believes followed by these people. But he knows how to speak their language and play their game. “That means. That our new king is Nightmare. Who completed the ritual.”

Falks suddenly looks a lot more unsure before he hisses to Ccino “You best remember your place slave. And if I had it my way I would show it to your personally. Your pretty face can’t save you from all the consequences.”

Ccino doesn’t feel fear. He just feels rage. “Oh I remember my place just fine. My duty, as ordered by the old king, is to be by the new king’s side and help him in any way I can. I am doing exactly as I was instructed. I think it is time you remember your own oaths and vows Captain. As you are supposed to protect, guard and serve the ruling king yourself.”

Falks glares harshly at him “When this is over. I will take great pleasure in punishing you and your bratty mouth. Seems like the last twenty I gave you did not make much of an impression. Maybe with fifty lashes you will learn your place.”

Ccino raises a brow “Ask our king when it is calm. We both have our duties. Yours should be to make sure everything in the hall is still fine so we can move on to the coronation.” Ccino glares at him “The priest needs to be informed as I prepare our king.”

There is a silence in the room. The two cadets stare at Ccino and their captain but Ccino doesn’t care. He knows he will be in trouble for this. A lot of trouble and he does not enjoy knowing he will be punished later for ignoring the hierarchy and rules.

But Nightmare needs him now. Even if Nightmare doesn’t seem the same. It is still Nighty. Ccino used to tug him into bed with a  bedtime story. Ccino used to cut both Nightmare’s and Dream’s food into tiny pieces to make eating easier for them.

Ccino is not going to fail them now because some stupid birdbrain decided he wanted to try a powerplay when there is a crisis.

Falks breaks their eye contact first. He huffs as he walks to the door and hisses “Do what he says. We need to serve our king.” And he leaves the room. The two cadets follow.

Ccino glances back at the twins and is happy to note both seem too distracted to have noticed the captain trying his silly powerplay. The twins are just staring at each other and seemingly lost in their own world.

Ccino nods as he rushes to the wall. He finds the servants pathway and sneaks a look inside. Okay! Perfect! A sewing kit! He grabs it and takes it back inside before ringing the bell and leaving a message that he needs cloths in the colours of deep purple, dark blue, cyan or black stat. He goes back inside and looks around.

Now. What can he use to fix this mess? He searches the room and pulls out any tools he can find. Ccino knows that his fellow servants and maids all stash items all around the castle. To use when in need without having to travel far.

He manages to pull one of the large sun banners down and starts sewing it into a more casual tunic dress fit before managing to find a brown belt  to help give it shape. He goes to Dream’s side and checks the cape and clothes he is wearing. Okay he can let Dream still wear the large cape as it will go well.

Ccino pushes the clothes into his arms “Here. I am sorry it is rushed work. This will fit better.”

Dream stares before glaring as his sockets fill with tears “No! This… this isn’t supposed to be like this!” Dream glares at Nightmare “How could you?!”

Oh no not again.

Nightmare looks at Dream and that slight edge is back again “I just… I needed… I just wanted…” Each time Nightmare tries to speak he seems to stop as soon as he hears his own voice. Shock obvious on his face.

Dream glares “I can’t believe you would betray me! I trusted you! I thought we were a team!”

Nightmare looks so sad “We are…”

Dream shakes his skull.

Which is when Sera walks in. Great. This day just went from bad to horrible. And that is impressive as Ccino had believed he would become a sex slave.

Sera glares at him “Why are you making orders and what is going on?!”

Ccino just takes the fabric she brought and gets to work sewing quickly. He can’t make it complex or too detailed but anything fitting will be better than Nightmare being crowned while naked “Prince Nightmare ate the apple. I am preparing him for his coronation as quickly as I can.”

Sera looks shocked before frowning “You should not be this involved! Step aside as I will do so instead.”

Ccino shoots her a look “And what role gives you this right?”

Sera glares “I am the head of the servants! Including you!”

Ccino can’t help but smile brightly as he answers “Actually. As you very often told me. I am not a part of the servants. I am one of the king’s loyals.” He smiles brightly as he enjoys the shock on her face “And as you often told me. I don’t belong in your group.”

She sputters and glares “You have some nerve! You are nothing but a toy! Something to throw aside when the king is done with you!”

Ccino nods “Of course. But that is the king’s decision.” He makes sure to smile pleasantly “And you wouldn’t go against the king’s will… would you?”

Sera is seething but nods “I wouldn’t.”

Ccino nods “Good. Now. The guests will be forced to wait a little longer. I am sure they would appreciate some extra refreshments and food.” This time he downright smirks as he shoots her a look “After all. Your performance will reflect on all of us.”

Sera is furious. Ccino knows why of course. She must not enjoy Ccino echoing her own words back at her.

Sera nods before leaving the room.

Ccino checks his hands and is happy to note he got the basics done. This will sadly have to do. He walks over to Nightmare “My lord? May I help you?”

Nightmare blinks slowly at him before nodding “Yes.” He remains still as Ccino puts the newly made shirt over his head and carefully moves the slits he made in place. The tendrils move easily through it and seem to brush against his side and Ccino shudders. The goop is cool and sticks slightly. Still. He moves  with purpose as he gets Nightmare into his new shirt. It is a bit too tight for the other and Nightmare frowns as he looks down at it. Ccino starts messing with the seams as he tries to gain a bit more room for Nightmare to move around in.

Ccino eventually needs to abandon that as he has to focus on the other parts. The cloak he made is easy in design and has a hood attached for Nightmare to use if needed. He quickly stitches in the familiar pattern of the moon phases at the button and around the neck before putting it over his shoulders.

Shit. The normal strings would just not be impressive enough.

Come on think. Think. Think.

Ccino sees a glimmer of gold and looks down. His jewellery!

Ccino quickly undoes the chain around his neck and clips each end on the cape. It works and gives it a nice shine. Mmh.

Ccino is quick to remove all his bracelets and other gold items as he moves around Nightmare. Putting some on the tendrils, which seem to really like wrapping around his arm or leaning against him. Ccino gives them gentle pats each time he needs to move or he removes them.

At the end his own clothes are much darker thanks to all the goop but Nightmare looks at least a little bit like a king. Ccino hopes that the distance from the others will be large enough that it isn’t obvious that this is a very bad patch job but he did what he could.

Ccino nods as he grabs a spare outfit for himself and quickly changes. No longer the very clear offering but at this point Ccino thinks the best thing to do is to get the whole day over with before trying to pull everything back together.

Ccino nods to the twins as he speaks “Okay! That is all I can do. If we take much longer they will become impatient and we don’t need them to be mad.” It is scary how easy it is for him to fall back into this role. How natural it always felt to speak to them as babysitter, caretaker and, he only dares to think it, older brother. Even with Nightmare now being a deity it still feels natural. It feels easy.

“We will go out to the throne room and the guards will open the doors. More people will watch as the priest crowns Nightmare. After that they will party but it is fine if you two retire for the night at that point.”

Dream glares “Nightmare shouldn’t be crowned! I should be!”

Ccino flinches as he looks between the twins. Making sure to keep his voice calm as he speaks “I know Dream. But I don’t think anyone will accept that. Not while the ritual and powers accepted Nightmare…” because that is what happened. Even if people seem to refuse to see it. According to all the rules known of the ritual. Nightmare completed each step. He has a new form and new power. He was accepted and ascended. Both to king and to be a god.

Ccino doesn’t know if there are private rules he doesn’t know but he wouldn’t even know who would know. So this is the situation they have at the moment.

Dream shakes his skull and slaps Ccino’s hand away. Yeah he figured. Ccino doesn’t take it personally. “It is wrong!” Dream glares at Nightmare.

Nightmare still has this glint in his sockets but each time he stares for too long at Dream, Ccino can see that Nightmare also focusses on him and the glint disappears.

Ccino focusses on Dream as he tries to calm the other down “I know you are angry Dream. But please. We don’t have time to discuss this and-”

Dream shakes his skull “I don’t care!” he glares at Nightmare “How could you!”

Nightmare’s tendrils slowly rise “I don’t…”

Dream doesn’t listen and his hand finds an old bust and he swings it right against Nightmare’s skull. A loud crack of stone and bones as the bust falls to pieces.

Silence before shock overtakes any emotion Ccino feels. Ccino rushes over as Nightmare slowly rises to his full height. His new tendrils sharpening and rising themselves.

Ccino gets to them and stands between them again “No! Both of you stop that. Dream! You know better than attacking your brother.” He shoots Dream a look.

Dream shakes as tears run down his angry face “He stole my future!”

Ccino shoots him a disapproving look “And you just hit him with a stone bust.” He sighs as turns towards the door to see it slightly open. Of course this guy is listening in. Whatever! Ccino speaks loudly “Cadet Rogers. Bring Dream to his room and stand guard. Make sure no one can bother the prince as the prince remains inside the room.”

Dream sputters “You can’t! You can’t do that!”

Ccino gives him a disapproving look “You are hurting. I know that. But you hurting is not an excuse to hurt others. You know your brother better than anyone and you should know that he would never hurt you unless he had a very good reason for it or had to. Instead of trying to communicate you attacked him. For this reason it is best to separate you two while we move on with the coronation.”

Dream shakes in rage as he looks down “I was supposed to be king.”

Ccino doesn’t feel good about this. But too much is counting on this. They can work on mending their relationship when Nightmare has the crown and people remain loyal. Than they can talk and relax. Cadet Rogers takes the prince away to his room and Ccino turns to Nightmare.

He only now realises that he had his back to Nightmare the whole time. That he had his back to someone who had his tendrils sharpened moments ago. But Nightmare looks calm and… he is leaning against the hand Ccino had held out to signal Nightmare to stay back. Ccino hadn’t even noticed as he tried to manage Dream.

Ccino checks his outfit once more before checking the skull. He can’t see anything. The goop is all liquid and hiding everything and Ccino isn’t sure if he can wipe it away safely “Nightmare? Does it hurt?” They are alone now. Ccino is too distraught to bother with titles unless he has to. Which he will have to in a few minutes.

Nightmare keeps staring at his hand “He… attacked me…”

Ccino frowns and nods “I know…  I am sorry…” he should have expected something like this. He should have made sure they were both safe. He just… he hadn’t thought… He should have considered this a possibility as Dream had been hurt by this.

Nightmare shakes slightly.

Ccino feels so bad for this “Nightmare. I know this is a lot but we can’t wait. People are waiting and have high expectations. You need to be crowned. Do you understand?”

Nightmare is quiet for a moment before nodding.

Ccino sighs “Good… good.” He makes sure to stand tall “Let’s get to work.” And he leads Nightmare out.

-----

Ccino is exhausted. The whole day had been exhausting and Ccino isn’t even sure if he can still recall everything that happened. Ccino just…

He just wants to sleep.

He rolls up in his bed. Now dressed in PJs as he tugs his blanket around. It is much too late for him. But he will need to be up early tomorrow to help Night- their king get ready for his first official day as king. Not to forget he needs to visit prince Dream and make sure he is okay.

Ccino is so tired and-

A knock on his door.

Ccino frowns. That is unusual. He walks towards his door and glances through the keyhole. He stares in shock before opening the door wide and bowing “My king. What do I own you this visit?”

His king stands there. A frown on his face “My… My mother’s room feels… wrong… I can’t sleep there. Dream hates me and does not wish to share his room. I wanted to sleep with you.” He still struggles with his sentences.

Ccino feels his soul freeze for a moment with the last part but he can see Nightmare means it literally. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Ccino isn’t sure why he can still read Nightmare just like he used to. You would think that Ccino lost that skill when Nightmare gained a new body. But even if the body is different. Even with his face being different. Ccino can still read him like he always does.

Ccino nods “Of course. Please come in.” he holds the door open and Nightmare walks in. He stands in the middle of the room seemingly lost.

Right. He doesn’t have any clothes in his new size. Ccino adds that to the mental to do list for tomorrow as well. Making sure their king has clothes that actually fit him. For now Ccino opens his drawer and searches it. He has a few oversized dress shirts and hopes it is big enough. He hands one over to Nightmare.

Nightmare looks at it before undressing and dressing in the clothing item. Ccino grabbed a spare pillow from the cabinet in the hall before throwing that on his bed as well.

It takes a moment but then they are both in Ccino’s bed. Nightmare gives a full body shudder and tugs his face and skull right by Ccino’s neck and shoulder.

Ccino has the strongest sense of déjà vu. Of when Nightmare was much smaller and he had night terrors. How Nightmare would use the servants tunnels to get to his room and climb into his bed at night. How they would make little blanket forts on days when everyone told Nightmare he wasn’t good enough. How Nightmare would climb into his bed when he was sad.

Nightmare… Nightmare may not look or feel or sound like the Nightmare Ccino knows. But it is still Nightmare. It is still his little Nighty.

Ccino hugs the large being closer “Sshh… it is okay… I am here.”

Nightmare shakes and shudders “Please… Please stay… I am so scared…”

Ccino tightens his hold on the other and holds him close “I am here Nighty. I swear on my soul.”

That seems to do it as Nightmare just holds unto him tightly. Tight enough that Ccino can feel his nails grip into his back. Ccino can feel those new tendrils circle him and hold him closely. Ccino just keeps holding unto Nightmare, keeps him in an embrace.

Eventually Nightmare falls asleep. Ccino can’t even find it in himself to care about the rumours this will cause. About the rumours that will follow after Nightmare leaves Ccino’s room.

Ccino doesn’t care. He will help and assist Nightmare. Everything will be alright.

[charlott2n]

my beloved what recommendations for hiphop/rap do you have?? i have never enjoyed any i have listened to but i know that's a me problem and not a genre problem so maybe you could introduce me to some less mainstream examples?? thank you i love you

oooo babey!!!!! here we go.

firstly i must introduce you to Shades of blue by madlib<3 rapper and producer madlib remixing the blue note jazz catalog! for me its the sort of album that i cant pick any favorite songs out of but i looove a whole lot as a complete product

then i HAVE to tell you about Rooftop soundcheck!!! by justice system!!!!!! its soooo groovy and funky and cool you should maybe honestly start with this one actually. every song hits in exactly the same way and its so underrated gem

then 6 feet deep by gravediggaz!! this is from a genre known as "horrorcore" and as such isnt for everyone but if it is ohhhh babey. try 1-800 suicide! such a classic album

then in the same vein of shades of blue, if you like that youll probably like Jazzmatazz by guru. you can tell what to expect from the name :p

and Deltron 3030!!!!!! so many sick beats on this album. i wanna devise a virus 🦠

and ill leave you with those five for now! please for the love of god let me know if any of these catch you!!! very excited any time i get to introduce someone to rap 😁enjoy!!!

[ivys-garden]

Life Series Recap: session 6.

Hey mcytblr. How are you keeping?

Well I've had Insomnia and accidentally ate half a loath of stale bread so let's distract ourselves from it all with some nice life series stuff, eh?

Todays wild card was… OK so like, this is probably the weirdest one (and also probably my least favourite but that's a me issue)

So like… every animal dies. Then new ones spawn. Then they become something random… wat

Now despite what the random signs that keep suspiciously appearing around grian say, thus isn't actually TOO dangerous. But hey that just leaves more room for these Theatre kids to drama it up in this messy soap opera of a series

So, without further dillydallying, let's look at these fools

The Final Gals (Scott, Cleo, Pearl, Impulse, Bigb, Etho)

Billy is dead. So is Grian, probably. they've got like 20 reasons to kill that lil scamp now.

Today is a full on trap day it seems! Scott is once again enabling so everyone gets their murder hats on. Impulse traps the base with pitfalls, obviously taking inspiration from Mumbo.

Bigb also gets his traps on, killing skizz in revenge and killing lizzie for no reason. Ps are we ignoring that Jimmy almost called him a son of a bitch orrrrrrrr

Oh yes, Bigb and Etho are now officially full members, and now the Bigb is a hostile mob, we can trust him again!

I mean, not too weird, they've got a Cleo. A very big brained and Dastardly Cleo. They plan to trap the wheat field with bombs. Heck they convinced Tango and martyn it already was! They also managed to acquire a cheeky Villager, so bows of death may be making a comeback.

Speaking of bigb actually, he's like even more trust worthy. It's almost scary. He refuses to betray Pearl and instantly tattles on Scar AND when lizzie coms a knocking over I.pukse trying to kill her and Impulse blames him, he fully accepts guilt no questions asked! What was in his water today, are we sure this is the same guy?

Scott does some miscellaneous chores. He fully turned the tower into a cake, which yada yada two nickels. He also goes never raiding with Cleo and makes his once per session trip to go complement Jimmy in a totally jot fruity way, Promise. Ignore how it's only his parrot Scott tried to save from that Blaze that means nothing.

Now, Pearl. She is given the task by gem

To kill gem. So she and her new murder bestie Impulse get on they're cammel and get down to mischief. Starting with creepers!

They failed miserably with creepers. Gem is a very fast rat

They go for a raid!

The wild card kills it. Dam.

They go for a spawn egg trap + a cammel nap!

The session ends before they can pull it off God dam it.

Pearl also thinks complimenting gem will get her to like her again so take that as you will. I say, knowing full well how you fuckers will take it. I see you, and so does G O D.

Oh, Pearl also acquires a very special tool that I'll mention in Etho's bit, but needless to say he gives it to Impulse and provided he does bimbo his key binds… again, he could come back from the dead…

The Family (Gem, Joel, Etho)

Joel found a bloody trial chamber. what the devils. He looted that bitch so good.

Anyway

All the cows are dead.

Also, a new watchtower? Pog? No. Its hideous. Much like gems barn, which has become a real ship of Theseus.

Speaking of Gem, she invents new and exciting ways to hate Pearl! This week: forgetting that gem ripped her eye out!

Yeah no fair how did she forget that.

Anyway, as gem is fully insane she decides the only way Pearl can make it up to her is to (checks notes) Murder her. Yep. Now, if my friend murdered me I'd probably take that negatively, but not Gem. She's itching to 1v1 pearl. Shame that Pearl is actually being cautious and thinks that trapping her is more sensible (tho maybe she should 1v1 gem since Pearl sucks at making traps. Just saying)

Speaking of traps, Gem and Etho try to kill ren! For no reason! He's their friend! It doesn't work but like, what the hell guys!?

Gem also chose to give her life to skizz…. More on how that went at 11.

The Bamboozelers (Scar, Jimmy, Lizzie)

Oh the Bamboozelers. Where do we start?

The Bam Bunker of course! Scars off hand pipe dream was fully realised this session as Jimmy and Lizzie spend all session building they're super secret bunker!... Scott manages to bimbo his way in and Scar invites Etho in… and it's not hidden at all… but hey, bunker!

And just in time too, turns out living on an open grassy mountain with plants that limit mobility during a mob spawn wild card is a bad idea. Lizzie almost died to wither had Jimmy not killed her so as to not waste her life.

I mean he did waste her life by trying to kidnap an Iron Golem but, eh.

Now looking at pay offs for last sessions events, we get anticlimax! Jimmy tries to kill gem when she offers her help in murdering people and Lizzie finds out that Ender porters fail if you died after you set them up. Whoops!

Speaking of Lizzie failing, she blows up Martyn and Ethos tower! He was supposed to get Tango as requested by skizz, but he's too smart. Lucky that martyn isn't eh?

No, when Scar wasn't being ironically killed by vex in trial chambers, or trying to make Shulker boxes for Actually no reason, or ruining traps for people, he was…. Being gaslit into thinking evokers still dropped Totems by grian. He did come up with a good idea of egg farming, but unfortunately eggs were turned off it seems, guess no big brain Scar this session.

Also for some reason Scar tries to get people to kill Pearl. Pearl has done nothing to him, but I guess that fits Pearl overall, do nothing and forgive everyone and still people want to kill you.

Oh also shears is dead. :(

Renwood (Martyn, Ren)

Oh ren. He's having a time. He's trying to be polite and friendly and make a “zoo lake” and asks why he and Martyn aren't smooching.

But at every turn this man has his life threatened by his own allies, his animals die (INCLUDING THAT BLOODY HORSE NOOOOOOO) and his homie/probably husband is killing people! What's that about?.... The shot was sick tho.

Hey, He may now have no allies or food but…. At least the lake protected them?

Idk they're probably doomed.

Martyn has some strange happenings this session. He goes skateboarding on a camel for one. He is also back to calling people humpers God damn it.

He also does make up for knocking Skizz off his stupid bad incredibly dangerous bridge by trying to lure people into the danger zone for him, but this ends about as well as every other trap done by anyone. At least he helped Grian get…revenge…

The Tuff Guys (Bdubs, Tango, Etho)

Firstly, Pancakes.

Secondly, etho doesn't know what Mt Saint Hellens is. You mean Yellowstone, Mr. Kakashi sir.

Anyway, on to things that are actually important, Bdubs finished his house!

Oh wait, I said things of importance.

Etho decides to make my life difficult by allying with 3 teams, all of which hate each other. So thanks for that, glad you died in that stupid trial chamber.

Etho ignores whatever stupid goals Leader Tango set out and instead focuses on the important thing of getting a Wolf army kitted out with armour and the less important thing of trying to get a shulker box to solve his inventory problem. That sir, is actually just a skill issue.

Now, Wardens. Where there be Wardens, there be a Tango to adopt them. Yep the Tuff Guys get a warden… for about three seconds until it gets trapped and everyone tridents it to death. This is also when “The Suprise Tool” was acquired by Pearl, a TOTEM OF UNDYING. Yeah Impulse is effectively on green now thanks to that, Thanks Gri! Impy FTW

(Ps homework for y'all is to find out who got that last hit on the Warden)

Now, I seem to remember Tango doing something to skizz… it resulted in grian taking revenge and bombing the hell out of the Tuff Towers and

Oh

Oh No, Skizzle…

The Spanner (Grian)

Let's start with grian. He is MOURNING Mumbo, even though he got bloody atomised last session he still pretends he's here. He names an Iron Golem after him, who later kills Jimmy so hooray revenge! Go Bloop!

He also goes chamber busting and continues to be besties with Scar… hey weren't they trying to kill each other not 2 sessions ago or….

He also fixes the “Spider Nest” tnt launcher so skizz doesn't blow himself up, skizz also names the tower after Mumbo in his honour.

Oh Grian also forgot to activate the wild card for like 5 minutes. Silly Goose. Hey at least it got people nice and paranoid.

Now, Skizz. He starts of great, Bombing Gem. I mean gem let him and he lost the life like 10 seconds later but he did it! He then does the stupidest thing I've seen since Skynet and builds a rickety bridge to drop TNT on tango's head. He was asking for martyn to wind charge him off.

Skizz seems to be really focused on Tango, he did ask Jimmy, Bigb & Lizzie to kill him after all.

But, well… Tango killed him. Did he thi k it would? No. But it did anyway. He tossed a wind charge up at Mumbo Tower and skizz fell. Grian didn't even have to watch to know what happened.

The Tuff Guys tried to make amends, but at that point it was too late. Also etho didn't help by talking to the wrong Grave like a Bimbo.

Grian then has a mental breakdown! And he does what people who have those in this series do and decides allying with Joel is a good idea somehow. He tries to replace the Spanners with the family. To pretend nothing happend.

It isn't working.

What will happen next? Who can say…

Me. Tango is gone next session. Mark my bloody words

More importantly tho, JIMMY HAS HIS BEST PLACEMENT (not counting real life) WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! PHOENIX BLESSING IS REAL

[geospiral]

The stage was always Luka’s world, and everyone else was just living in it.

Luka’s first round in the 50th Alien Stage competition was the fourth round, but really it should have been the second given the predetermined matchups. The Segyein were saving his round for later in order to excite the in-universe audience to the previous winner’s grand return.

(There is no dimmed profile in the second bracket.)

Luka being set up to go against either Mizi or Sua was absolutely intentional; the Segyein knew whoever came out of Round One would be an easy target for Luka’s manipulation, which, in their eyes, would make for a good show. When organizing the rounds, it seems like the Segyein try to go for which setups will elicit the biggest emotional responses out of the contestants. They clearly already knew about Mizi and Sua’s intimate relationship with the fact that the contestants’ profiles are most likely created by the Segyein with little to no input from the humans themselves (probably made with the help of the ever-present camera flowers in Anakt).

(translation)

This would also explain why Sua and Ivan were so certain about Mizi going up against Sua in the competition despite them not being told about the round matches yet.

(Take this with a grain of salt because it is possible they were already told who was against whom before this comic, but given how young they look, I'm thinking that it's probably too early for them to know.)

(translation)

If Luka weren’t in this year’s tournament, they would have probably set Till up against Mizi in Round 5 instead since the Segyein are aware of how much she means to Till. They technically could have still done that with Luka in the competition and had Round 6 be him vs. Ivan, but they most likely didn’t want to save Luka’s signature act until the final round, which the Segyein would have believed themselves to be doing given how they don’t seem to know how important Till is to Ivan (probably intentionally on Ivan's part).

(Text: "Intimacy: 70% It feels like I'm being chased all the time, but I can't find any evidence, so the teachers only suspect me!!! I'm so pissed!! He's always done things I don't like, and I don't understand... Anyway, he's a bother.)

Note: While I think the character profiles were probably made by the Segyein, I don't think the intimacy levels from the artbook are. I'm showing Till's intimacy level for Ivan to highlight his comment about the teachers not believing him when he says that Ivan is constantly following him around.

The Segyein knew the two were friends at least, but that seems about it. Maybe that was enough for them to be a possible sixth round setup if they came out of 2 and 3 victorious, but given the vast potential there was for Luka vs. Ivan after a Mizi vs. Till round, I don't think the Segyein knew the depths of Ivan and Till's relationship and therefore didn't care until it became blatantly obvious after the canon Round 6 and could be capitalized upon for the finale.

From a meta perspective, an Ivantill round was obvious, but my personal opinion is that in-universe I think that matchup was more akin to a happy little accident on the Segyein's part.

This is also all ignoring the huge elephant in the room, which is the Rebellion throwing a wrench into the competition.

I think the biggest change in the direction of the competition (not the results of the rounds but in how the rounds themselves were organized) due to the rebellion was how the Segyein decided to have the finale be mere hours after Round 6. If the fifth round hadn’t been interrupted, I think that the sixth would have been performed right after, like how the first four rounds were. Also, I don’t think they would have tried to aid Luka in his manipulation by throwing up pictures of Ivan on the screens and would have just left him to his own devices like in Round 5. But the Segyein wanted to lure the rebels out to save Till, so basically flashing a big sign that says, "THIS GUY IS MESSED UP FROM THE LAST ROUND AND WILL DIE IF YOU DON'T DO SOMETHING" was probably the best way to do it.

This is all to say that I think it's a lot more interesting if Luka was being set up to be the winner the entire time. Obviously he still had to work for it, but I like the idea that almost everything was set up in his favor; he just had to take advantage of it. The Segyein wanted a good show, and Luka knows how to perform. He did not disappoint them.

[roxygen22]

can i request any beautiful boy writing and thank you love your writing

Aww - thanks, anon! I can't believe I haven't written for Nic yet, so thanks for the nudge!

Context: Nic has been sober for a while and is holding down a steady job in the city, where he meets the reader.

<><><><><>

Bus Stop

"I have a crush on a stranger," you blurted out at dinner with my BFF. She stared at you like you had lost your mind. Maybe you had.

"Okaaaaay. Tell me about said...stranger," she replied slowly, skeptically.

"I take the same bus every day heading home from the office. Same bus. Same route. Same time. Every weekday. This cute guy - dark brown curls and cheekbones that could cut glass - always gets on two stops later and sits across from me. Every day except Wednesdays. Sometimes, if we happen to lock eyes when I look up, he'll nod and offer a closed-lipped smile. The looks have started to...linger. I've noticed that I have started to look forward to it."

At some point while narrating your story, your focus drifted off into the distance. When your eyes returned to your friend, she was grinning at you like a cheshire cat.

"Oof, you've got it bad."

"I know....," you groaned and dramatically dropped your forehead to your hands.

"What's the big deal? Ask him out." She shrugged nonchalantly.

You stared at her wide-eyed, jaw slack. "How?" You asked incredulously.

She laughed. "Start by asking his name. The rest should take care of itself."

<><><><><>

The following Monday was a federal holiday, so you wouldn't see the beautiful mystery boy again until Tuesday. The last hour of work crawled by at a torturous pace. At closing, you grabbed your coat and bolted out the door, determined to catch the bus on time. It dependably arrived at your stop like clockwork.

You sat in your usual spot, knee bouncing from nerves and excitement. Two stops later, a slew of people stepped onboard. With each unfamiliar face, you grew more and more disappointed until finally, the object of your affection appeared. He took his normal position across the way and down a few seats. He always looked so nice and put together in his button-down shirt and slacks.

You were eager to talk to him but didn't want to come off as a stalker, so you waited a couple of stops before scooting over to sit directly in front of him. Your movement caught his attention, prompting him to look up at you.

"Hi," you squeaked and froze as you locked eyes.

"Hi," he replied slowly, both confused and amused. He flashed a smile that frazzled you further.

"I- uh, I've seen you here almost every day for months. So this isn't like talking to a stranger. I, uh, don't usually make it a habit of talking to strangers. I've been wanting to meet you." You paused and caught your breath. "I'm [Y/N]." You stuck out your right hand to shake. Smooth, real smooth.

"Hi, [Y/N]." You felt electricity run through your fingertips as he took your hand in his. "I'm Nic."

"Nic," you breathed, holding his hand probably a little longer than a customary handshake. You weren't sure what to do next, except make a note that your BFF gives terrible advice.

He cleared his throat. "I- I've uh, noticed you, too. On the bus every day, I mean."

All you could do was blush.

"Getting off work for the day?" Nic asked as you settled back into your seat, nodding toward the laptop bag at your side.

"Yep, the daily grind. The best part is the bus ride home."

It was his turn to blush. He ducked his head down sheepishly. You were dismayed to look up and see your stop was next.

"This is my stop coming up. The day crept by while I waited to finally talk to you, but the ride blazed by once I did." You sadly half-smiled as you looked into his jade-hued eyes, while also admiring your own newly found confidence.

"Oh." You detected a hint of disappointment in Nic's voice. "If...hopefully this doesn't sound creepy...if you'd like, I can get off here, too, and walk with you. My stop is just the next one down," he offered.

Your heart beat rapidly - slightly wary since he was still effectively a stranger, but mostly exhilarated by the prospect of having more time with him. Your words failed, so you just nodded.

When the bus stopped, you both stood and walked toward the front. Nic stepped off first, then turned and offered his hand to help you down.

"Thanks," you responded, blushing at the gentlemanly gesture.

"Where to?" he asked as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

You froze as rationality hit you like a ton of bricks, finally realizing that you would be leading this guy, still essentially a stranger, to your apartment. No matter how much you liked him, that wasn't a smart move.

"Well, I...I," you stammered nervously. "I barely know you, so I'm not going to show you where I live. Not yet, no offense."

"None taken," Nic replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

"But I want to get to know you, and I don't want that to stop here. Want to duck in somewhere and grab a drink?"

"I- I don't drink." His brow furrowed, and his eyes cast downward slightly. "B-but I do eat!" he added. "Hungry? My treat."

You smiled and nodded, pointing at the diner across the street. "How about there? They make a mean cheeseburger and milkshake."

Nic grinned. "Works for me."

<><><><><>

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @jindongdongie @groovy-lady @pmak2002

[mixxiew]

cruise of love | hc

chapter one: king of the walkway

The steady hum of the cruise ship’s engines was a soothing backdrop as yn made her way down the sun-drenched promenade deck, her eyes glistening with excitement. This was it—her chance to explore the world, all thanks to the Semester at Sea program. With a tote bag slung over her shoulder and a camera in hand, she looked around, absorbing the moment while looking for her friends.

The salty breeze tousled her hair as she paused to snap a photo of the endless expanse of blue water. Everything felt surreal, like stepping into a dream.

“Out of my way” a sharp, impatient voice snapped, pulling yn from her thoughts.

She turned her head just in time to see a boy storming toward her, his designer sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a luxury duffle bag slung lazily over his shoulder. He didn’t slow down—didn’t even glance her way—before colliding into her with a solid thud.

“Hey!” yn stumbled back, nearly losing her grip on her camera. She caught it just in time, cradling it protectively as she glared up at the boy.

He stopped and turned, his face twisted in irritation. “I’m sorry are you talking to me?” His tone was dripping with annoyance, and his piercing gaze made her bristle.

She chuckled a little. “Yeah? You just bumped into me and almost made my camera fall, you should at least say sorry?”

He looked at her, slowly lowering his glasses just to have a better look. “And what are you doing standing in the middle of the walkway?”

“I’m sorry, what?” yn shot back, her voice rising with disbelief. “You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention!”

“Right, because I’m supposed to watch out for random people blocking the way” he retorted with a scoff, crossing his arms. His expensive white shirt and tailored trousers screamed wealth, as did the watch on his wrist that probably cost more than yn’s entire scholarship.

yn squared her shoulders, not backing down. “Random people? Sorry, I didn’t realize this was your walkway, Mr. Entitled.”

For a moment, he looked startled—like he wasn’t used to anyone talking back to him. Then a slow, amused smirk spread across his face. “You’re so bold for someone who clearly doesn’t belong here.”

Her jaw tightened. She knew what he meant, and it stung more than she wanted to admit. But she refused to let him see that. “And what exactly makes me not belong? The fact that I don’t walk around with a stick up my—”

“You should watch your mouth” he interrupted, taking a step closer to her, his tone turning icy though the smirk never left his lips.

“Why? Afraid I might hurt your fragile ego?” yn shot back, tilting her head defiantly.

His eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, and for a moment, she thought she’d gone too far. But then he chuckled, low and soft. It wasn’t friendly—more like he was intrigued.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer but still carrying that air of superiority.

“Why? So you can report me to the Cruise Walkway Police?” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

That made him laugh, an actual laugh this time, and yn blinked in surprise. “You’re feisty. I’ll give you that” he said, removing his sunglasses just to reveal sharp, intelligent eyes that studied her with interest. “Not what I expected from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” she echoed, her voice dripping with mockery. “You really love your vague insults, don’t you?”

He grinned, stepping even closer. “It’s not vague if it’s true. But fine—since you’re being so difficult, I’m Haechan.” He said it like his name should mean something to her.

“Good for you” yn said back. “I’ll make sure to write it down in my diary later.”

And after that she just turned around, walking away mad as hell while he just stared at her back getting away.

And for the first time in a long time, Haechan found himself intrigued by someone other than himself.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.

masterlist | next

౨ৎauthor’s note: first chapter up!! hope you like it, there will be some written parts here and there just beautiful i love writing! 😄 hope you enjoy it! (yeah the enemies to lovers is just bc haechan doesn’t know how to express his feelings;)

౨ৎ taglist! @dlin3 @haechology @iamsimplyasimp