#if i chant that enough it'll work

[r3ynah]

Barbiefied

dcxdp oneshot

Do you know how Barbie herself is such an icon that she works multiple jobs impossible for regular people?

Well, Danny's like that, but less of an icon and more of an eldritch cryptid—no one's that iconic than Barbie herself—he says.

Nevertheless, Danny after living in Amity Park for most of his life, grew bored and Jazz decided that it would do him good to move out for the sake of his mental health. But the only problem is Danny possesses a serious case of a hero complex.

I guess being a vigilante at the age of 14 has finally caught up to him—oh, well

He couldn't risk leaving Amity Park behind fearing that something would happen if he weren't there to act as the city's unloved vigilante later on, the next day Dani had visited him back from one of her journeys, and then an idea hit him.

So here he is now, with at least 100 clones around the world working interesting jobs or just exploring as he stays at Amity Park, his mind working at maximum speed as he devours every single memory made by his clones, Danny's honestly having a great time. He even gained friends from exploring and Regulars from his different Jobs!

Hal Jordan was baffled, it was the fourth time he had seen this boy Danny this week and it was only Tuesday, he was grabbing lunch at Chipotle and he came face to face with the same guy he ordered pizza from yesterday, his gaze never leaving the boy as he paid quietly and directly leaving the establishment, He must've been tired he thought to himself.

'You're just overreacting it's normal for people to have more than two jobs Hal, great that boy must think I'm a creep ' Hal said as he turned to a corner only to bump into someone.

" I'm so sorry, i wasn't looking-" he cut himself off as he faced the person he crashed into, there again was Danny— the same Danny he just saw not even a minute ago.

"It's alright" Danny said sheepishly. "Don't worry about it, I was also paying attention to where i was walking" and then he was out of sight dashed away from a stunned Hal.

"Danny? what are you doing here" Tim asked flabbergasted as he eyed the black haired boy in front of him.

"Oh- Hey Tim, I work here" Danny greeted casually as he pressed the buttons of the cash register in preparation "the usual?" he asked

"Why?" Tim asked confused,

Danny looked at him with a questioning look "Why what?"

"I mean— why are you working here?"

"For money?" Danny said unsure "I don't have enough to pay my bills and college tuition"

"You intern for me! I pay you." Tim stated clearly offended, he had the right to be, he gave money to interns generously, and alongside that Danny had a scholarship that provides allowances so he's pretty sure the boy in front of him is doing fine.

"Hey, inflation's a bitch" Danny shrugged "So the usual?" he asked again

Tim just sighed and nodded, This is just a problem he'll take care of later.

Little did he know, it was also everyone else's problem.

Constantine was rubbing his palms together nervously as he watched Zatanna chant the few words of the spell.

Just the other day Superman used his x-ray vision trying catch an assailant from a robbery who hid from him hiding amongst the jungle of cement buildings that is Metroplis, then he saw it a giant Lazarus pit that was below the Earth's surface hidden from the world that seemed to have a mind of it's own eating everything in its way including the Earth's core just to reach the surface to create havoc, without the core and its mass the planet will become unstable, and with it approaching the surface it'll endanger the people and environment leading to unimaginable catastrophes, so with no time to lose he immediately sought out Batman who then called an emergency meeting where they talked amongst themselves on how to solve this crisis.

And here he was currently surrounded by heroes that just look as nervous as he was.

Why were they nervous? oh it's nothing their just summoning THE HIGH KING PHANTOM OF THE INFINITY REALMS,

That he only just learned about this guys existence from Deadman and secret out of all people when they were asked why they didn't say anything earlier they said they couldn't talk about the realms without the permission of their king, so with enough pressure from their peers, they looked at each other with a hint of fear and uncertainty in their eyes and took the initiative in going to the infinity realms to request from the king himself, when they arrived before the king he only gave them a scroll that once used either successfully or unsuccessfully it will disintegrate leaving nothing behind to ever contact the ruler again, bidding both of the dead heroes goodbye and to send the message on his behalf.

When they returned back from the realm of the dead Deadman's aura was brighter than when they came in, relaying information and the scroll to Batman which he then passed to Zatanna— Constantine had a feeling Batman didn't trust him to lead with this summoning, but to be fair he didn't trust himself either, so yeah, Zatanna it is.

While they prepared the materials, he noticed Nightwing had made his way towards Secret to ask—interrogate— about Phantom, and Secret who also returned from the realms with a little bit of tension out of her shoulders only looked at the Vigilante and uttered the word "merciful" and then she was gone made herself intangible, along with Deadman.

Turning his attention away from the disappointed bird and onto the Summoning circle, he just hoped that this wouldn't backfire on them after all they only had a single chance.

So here they are back at the present, just in time for Zatanna to back away from the summoning circle as it glowed ominously green the same kind of shade that the pits emitted, suspense and nervousness flooded the room as blinding light came out of the circle temporarily making them look away, when the light finally diminished they faced the king.

There stood a very familiar face, standing between the summoning circle, even with the uncanny inverted colors his appearance was alike.

"Danny?!" Flash jumped, making everyone turn to him.

''Hi" Danny waved casually, in his full royal attire that somewhat looked like a very fancy jester's outfit with the hat getting replaced by a crown that floated ominously a few inches above from his head, a cape that seemed to be a piece torn and sewed carefully from space itself tiny meteoroids that moved inside of it, and a ring that stole everyone's attention with how much power it radiated.

"You know Danny?" Superman asked surprised.

"He's my tailor" Flash replied

"You are?" Green Lantern looked at Danny

"I am" Danny confirmed, with a nod

"How do you know him?" Flash questioned Superman back.

"He's my wife's intern, a little strange but he does his job well" Superman exclaimed

"I'm like right here."

"You're his wife's intern??" Robin said accusingly with a tone annoyance laced in his tone

"I am" Phantom replied smugly like working for Lois Lane was the best thing that ever happened to him, which was absolutely correct.

"Don't you work at Batburger?"

"Yep, but I quit, tried retailing instead"

"How about The Aquarium?"

"There too"

"Even the Zoo"

"Uh huh, I did that."

"And I'll assume that you're also the High King Phantom?" Batman interjected, making everyone fall silent and immediately realize once again who was the person standing in front of them,

This kid in front of them was the King of the infinity realms, the most powerful being that ever existed, the one that struck even the Gods with fear so unbearable to carry.

"Damn, did the crown, ring and inverted colors give it out?" Danny grinned cheekily, and for the first time they ever interacted with him, his aloof and unbothered behavior vanished, what replaced it was something more frightening "Shall we begin?" he asked.

Constantine now understood why Secret and Deadman vanished, with the way his presence screamed capability, authority, and power.

This was Phantom, not Danny. And being away from Phantom was mercy itself.

[rosedpetal]

Behave

Summary: Bucky shows you what happens when you test him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: smut.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist | Part II

You didn't mean to be so overbearing, but you just loved him so much.

"Doll, you have to stop giving the stinky eye to these women. It's getting embarrassing." He whispered on your ear, his grip tightening just a little bit on your arm as he smiled for the people schmoozing at Tony's gala event. "Seriously, when did you get so jealous?"

"Jealous?" You scoff, adjusting the skirt of your long dress, softening the slightly wrinkled fabric. "Barely. I just wish you didn't look so smug with all those single bitches fawning over you."

"In my time, we used to call them spinsters." Bucky raised his eyebrow at you.

"Well, that's just sexist."

"And calling them bitches is not?"

Your glare made him shut his mouth, a little smirk threatening to tug at the corner of his lips.

"I get it, okay? I'm being too much. It's just that I'm so obsessed with you. Why can't I just be one of those wives who barely wait for their husbands to drop dead?" You sighed, adjusting his tie.

He chuckles, a low rumble reverberating through his chest. He trapped your chin between his thumb and index finger, amused at you. "You're crazy, you know that? But it's okay. Your psycho side is almost as cute as your clingy and needy one."

You roll your eyes. "Gotta admit, though. You looked really hot over there talking to them and signing autographs and all. If I didn't want to stab your guts off, I'd be horny... " You paused. "Okay. I'm horny either way."

"Behave." Bucky hissed, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to the two of you. At the sound of your little crazed giggle, he snapped his head back to you. "How much have you had to drink, by the way?"

"I didn't drink that much. I don't know what's taken over me, okay? You're just... Ugh!" You groaned, and Bucky blinked, a little taken aback. "You're hot. Are you taken?" You playfully bat your eyelashes at him and he chuckles.

"Well, I do have a wife. But she's quite small, so I think you can take me from her if you want to." He smirked, rubbing circles on the small of your back.

"Ugh, you're married? I bet she's a fucking witch."

Bucky shakes his head, getting his lips close to your ear. "Honestly... My wife is quite crazy. Sometimes I'm scared at how unhinged she can be when she's jealous."

"Is she hot, though?"

"Oh... She's so hot. Just thinking of her has me feeling all types of way... But she's also quite needy. It gets on my fucking nerves. I swear, that woman could drop on her knees to beg for my attention."

"Is begging the only good thing she can do on her knees, though?" You purr.

Bucky checks again for any nosy listeners, relaxing a bit as he realizes you're too are safe.

"Well... She also prays really well, just like a good girl should."

Your could feel your gaze becoming a little unfocused, your core warming up. "I wanna choke you so bad."

Bucky's face and neck turn a little red. "Jesus, baby. What has gotten into you tonight? Is it all because I dressed up?"

"Maybe. Do you think it's possible for humans do go into heat?"

"Oh. I don't know, are you?"

"Breed me. Breed me. Breed me." You chanted on his ear, and his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully.

"Stop right this second." He hisses. "I do not need this right now. Are you trying to get me hard in public, you little shit?"

"Is it working?"

"You're going to pay for this."

"Are you gonna give me your belt tonight?"

"Y/N-"

"What? Is this too kinky for you? Is the idea of marking my ass with your leather belt too much for your poor brain to handle right now, baby?"

Bucky closes his eyes, fists clenching on his sides. Then, he grabs you by your waist, pulling you to the nearest room he could find.

He swiftly unlocks the door, assessing the small supply closet you two are in. It's not ideal, but it'll be enough. His hand fly to your throat, pressing on it slightly, eyes darkened with desire, his slacks tight and uncomfortable. "Filthy little tease. You enjoy riling me up, don't you? Do you think you'll get away with this little stunt you just pulled, huh?"

His vibranium hand snakes under your dress through the slit on your thigh, his eyes darkening at how soaked your underwear is. "Tsk. Does being a little slut make you wet, baby?"

You whimper, completely overtaken by lust, his digits teasing your clothed clit. "You can try to give me shit for misbehaving, but you love how obsessed I am with you, isn't that right? You crave my attention. You thrive on how needy I can get for you."

Bucky's eyes darken, the beautiful expansion of his blue irises only getting noticed by you by the moonlight reflecting through the small window.

"You're giving me fucking butterflies, Bucky. What the fuck? Wasn't that supposed to stop after we got married?" Your brows furrow, your indignant tone making a little snicker escape him. He hooks his finger on the waistband of your panties, a sharp tug being enough to rip your underwear.

"I didn't vow to bore you 'til death do us part, doll. I'll never stop making you feel this way." He whispered, gaze softening at you. Time seemed to stop as he inched closer to you, lips brushing against your red painted ones. "I fucking love you, you unhinged little thing."

"Love you too, baby." Your eyes close shut, mouth hanging open as he fingers you in the supply closet, swallowing your moans with his tongue, bucking his hips on your hand as you palm him through the straining fabric.

Reaching down, you swiftly undo his slacks, pulling them low enough just to free his twitching cock, guiding the thick head to your entrance.

With how lubricated you are, he only has to spit on his cock and moisten the length with his hand, a low growl leaving his mouth as he sink on your heat, inch by inch.

There's a moment of silence as you two lock eyes, your weeping pussy welcoming him with a tight grip that he swears it makes him harden, if that's even possible.

Your head falls back with the first shallow thrusts, a small gasp leaving your lips. Bucky's gritting his teeth, pulling you up, your legs wrapping around his middle. Then, he slams into you.

You can't even speak, getting your walls bullied repeatedly by your husband's thick cock. "F-fuck! Bucky, ohmygod, wait!"

He smirks, not slowing down a second. "I told you were gonna pay for being a menace tonight. What's the problem, baby? What happened to the slut who told me to breed her just a few minutes ago? Where is she? Huh?" He circles his hips, buried deep inside you, making you see white. He swats your thigh, his voice rough. "Answer me."

A little, humiliating whine escapes you, and he chuckles again.

"See, baby? How I can fuck the brat out of you? How you should think before riling me up? How you can't back up for your little antics?" His vibranium thumb circles your clit, the coolness of it only serving to make you orgasm quicker.

Bucky moans at your walls clamping violently on him, a grip so deliciously tight it makes him wanna pull his own hair. So he tugs hard at your locks instead, exposing your neck for his greedy lips as he comes inside you.

[echantedtoon]

The Way The Cookie Crumbles

When dreams dance and fantasies swirl, the shadows prance and hallucinations whirl. Tis not but a dream, not what it seems. But to be fair, you should beware. For not everything in the dream is a fake scheme. 

(Or a Yandere Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader Oneshot based on my Dream Demon S.M.C Au. And no he's not a cookie in this au, I based what his demon design looks like as the pic I used as the Coverart/linked. Found on Pinterest. I used some of his voice lines. Warnings for demon summoning(??), yandere themes, and blood mentioned.

The song used is Circus Monster (English Cover) by Jubyphonic. He might be ooc in this cuz it's my first time writing for him.

m.youtube.com/watch?v=aQgXq42nD8I&pp=ygUcY2lyY3VzIG1vbnN0ZXIgZW5nbGlzaCBjb3Zlcg==  )

Would you take a deal with the devil?

The foggy memories and distant dreams are one of the few things you've experienced since taking part in that strange bet. It wasn't supposed to be a real thing. Just a silly game to be had at a sleepover with the girlfriends. Someone had brought up the typical game traditional for the event. A ouija board but that would not suffice.

"That old thing again? It never works when we use it anyways so what's the point?"

"You got any better ideas?"

"Let's try summoning something like in the movies!"

"Seriously?"

"Oh c'mon. It's all fake anyways. It'll be a fun. I know this urban legend we can try out!"

You all were uneasy, but didn't believe in anything like this. After all things like ghosts and goblins only existed in movies and fairy tales, plus it might've even been fun! So you all went along with it. As the urban legend goes if you take a black glass and fill it with milk, place a single drop of blood, then leave it in the darkest corner of the house, and then say an incantation, the Shadow Milk Man will appear. Sorta like Bloody Mary but only more ridiculous sounding. Drawing straws it was you who had the short end and so you were the one who had to prick their finger and offer a drop of blood into your friend's black mug which she then stuck in the closet. Then you all stood back holding back giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

"Shadow, shadow will arise, new moon hides from eyes. Shadow shadow will arise, new moon hies from eyes," your friend dramatically changed at the door as you all giggled. "Deep dreamscapes veer and steer away, for the darkness of minds comes to play. Unholy follies are to pay. We call the one whom creeps in dark, for our words he must harm. Come forth to accept the offer for the one you seek is the one who's blood has been leaked."

The giggling persisted as you all waited for something to happen. And waited. And waited long enough for enough to not find this entertaining anymore. Your chanting friend pressed their ear to the door listening before opening the door and finding the still full mug of milk sat there untouched.

"Told you it wouldn't work. Oh well. It was good for a laugh."

"Maybe we have to wait longer?"

"Are you seriously going to just leave that sitting in your closet all night?", you asked raising a brow. 

With a shrug your friend just closed the door and turned back around. "Eh. I'll dump it out in the morning."

"Now I know you're crazy. *Sigh* Whatever. It's your closet you're stinking up. Can I have a bandaid for my finger now?"

"Sure. Give me a second. They're in the kitchen." 

In the darkness of the closet, unseen from prying eyes, and behind the darkened door shadows moved. Eyes opened wide between hung clothes and random knickknacks. And a razor sharp smile widened. Claws ensnared around cold porcelain and lips wrapped themselves up around the rim. The sound of a satisfied sigh, and then the sinister chuckling of evil.

When morning came and the door was opened, and the empty mug was there to everyone's surprise. No one would confess to dumping out the milk. You knew one of them must've done it to mess with everyone else but no one would fess up. Whatever. You dropped it and moved on with your life. 

However that's when the dreams started to happen soon after. Usually you'd fall into a dreamless slumber only to wake up groggily the next morning, but lately you'd have very strange dreams. Dreams of being floating in a black abyss with multiple blue eyes staring at you in the endless void. Sometimes it was nothing in the darkness but loud giggles and invisible arms reaching out to grab your arms or touch your cheek but as soon as you awoke, there'd be nothing there. You brushed it off as stress from work and reading one too many horror novels, but oh how you were wrong. So, so wrong.

Because tonight was the night shadows danced in the dreamscapes of memories and emotions, of hearts and souls, fear and delight. 

For when your eyes closed that night you felt your world shift until you were standing upright and walking through a dark abyss. It felt so real, so solid. Your arms extended out in front of you to feel around in the dark for anything solid you might bump into. Until in the darkness a light appeared, far away at first but soon rapidly approaching. FAST. What was akin to a giant bright flashlight being shined in your eyes. Instinctually your arms covered your face for impact, and suddenly everything was bright. When you next opened your eyes-

You squealed out jumping back as a face was in front of you. YOUR face. Everywhere you turned to a throw, there was nothing but endless copies of your faces everywhere you looked. On the ceiling, beneath your feet, behind you- It took you a long moment to figure out that you were in fact surrounded by mirrors. Slowly a hand extended to touch the cold, smooth surface of the nearest wall flinching at how realistically cold it felt.

"This is the weirdest dream yet," you mumbled under your breath looking around.

There seemed to be a hallway in front of you, so with a dead end behind you, you started walking forward following the hallway of mirrors with an awestruck on your face. The hallway of mirrors never seemed to end, only going onwards and onwards, until unexpectedly you finally hit a corner. Turning the corner slowly you came to another strange sight.

It was a door.

A very...strange door. It was all blue minus the gold accents on the corners, the shiny golfed knob, and strangest of all a happy face comedy mask in the middle. Like the kind you'd find in theaters or plays. 

"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder doesn't it?"

Well you still couldn't go back until you eventually woke up again, so you might as well continue onwards until you couldn't go anymore or until you woke up. Slowly approaching the door you reached out a hand to slowly grab the doorknob, finding it as cold as the mirrors, with a twist it opened wide open and you were surprised to see how dark it was on the other side...Whelp. There wasn't anything to lose. Walking forward inside, the door slowly closed behind you leaving you in darkness once more. You could barely see three yards in front of you as you continued to walk. The cold reflective floor gone now replaced by what felt like wood under your feet. You couldn't see anything no matter how much you squinted in the dark. Barely being able to see-

Until something brushed up against your face!

"AH?!"

You jumped back swatting at the long tendril as it swayed back and forth from you hitting it. You panted as it harmlessly hung there... before you blinked.

"A rope?"

A brown rope dangled from the dark above. Your eyesight could make out the top but you saw other roles dangling from the ceiling too. A quick sweep of the floor had you noticing sand bags and to your far right was a massive wall of felt also dangling from the ceiling. A...curtain?

"Oh please don't tell me I'm having a nightmare about my fourth grade Christmas pageant," you mumbled in dread, "I hated being dressed up as the Hallmart knock off gingerbread man."

Curiously you approached the heavy curtain, knelt down reaching out to pull up the bottom and rose your brows when light flooded out. An exit maybe? Nothing ventured nothing gained you guess. The curtain was surprisingly thick and heavy, and you struggled to lift it up enough to duck under it coming out of the other side. Only to find even another surprise.

"Ok. Now this is getting ridiculous!"

Before you was more tented walls lit up by some unknown light source. The thick curtains making up the walls were various blues or white in color, all having glittery gold accents along the bottom train and studded with various cresent moon and star imagery. Before you there was two ways, left and right. It was like a maze at this point! A dark void, hallway of mirrors, and then this giant tent thing...No. Not a maze.

A fun house. A citrus. 

"What the heck did I read to give me this random dream?"

Debating a second you eventually turned left and made it two steps before something made you stop. It was...music. Pausing, you blinked before slowly looking behind you down the hallway of tents as it came from that direction. A loud blast of music echoed out that sounded like...a saxophone and violin??

"Time is dead and gone.~ Show must go on.~ It's time for our our act.~ They all scream at me.~ They cannot see this curtain hides me.~ An amazing gift.~ So quick and swift.~ You are amazing.~"

A melodist voice wafted over you from behind that sentence chills down your spine and goosebumps on your skin. Fear injected your veins like a virus as you stood frozen amongst the noises.

"By myself I can't.~ They start to chant.~ Why are you not here?~ Grinning at me.~ I lay at my knees.~ They want to hear me.~ Why can they not see?~"

You've..never heard that voice before. It was clearly male but it was..off somehow. A feeling that made your guts churn with unease. But you still walked towards the symphony of music and singing to get to the bottom of this.

"I swear if this stupid dreams ends with there being a creepy clown in here, I am never celebrating Halloween again."

"I want to see you.~ I have to see you.~ I need to see you.~ What happened to you?~ We go up on stage.~ They jump to enrage.~ Why are you not here?~Why is he so near?~ He wants me to sing.~ I just cannot bring. I say he's not you.~ What else can I do?~"

You quickly sped walked down the hallway that again split off in two directions. Your head turning both directions as the music sounded like it was coming from both directions. Eventually you went right again increasing your speed walk to a light jog.

"Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~"

You quickly picked up your pace before turning left on a whim, finding more and more curtains and hallways no matter which way you turned. 

"Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~ I lay all alone. I should've known you would've left me.~ He smiles at me.~ I cannot see why he's in your place.~ They can't tell me why you said goodbye right before our act.~ Those two lions were always fun.~ Why did they leave too?~"

The endless maze laughed at your frantic almost panicked form now full on running through these halls after some ghost. Were you chasing it or were you running away at this point?!

"Roaring at me.~ I lay on my knees. What is happening?~ I can hear you sing.~ They will not obey.~ They've been lead astray.~ Will I still see you?~ I have to see you.~ I panic and flee.~ They both pounce on me.~ I fell to ground.~ I fell to the ground.~"

You turned again and skidded to a stop. Mouth open and panting as you froze as you were in the center of a small room and there was a least six different pathways leading off into different directions from you and all looked exactly the same. Now what?!

"I look up to see you're not here with me.~ Am I all alone?~ Where could you have gone?~ Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~ Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

THERE!! The one in the very center! You quickly chased after the musical number as it started to slow down the rhythm and fade away. 

"Singing it's silent of misery.~ A monster lies trapped in its own nightmare.~ He is a tyrant.~ He let's out a plea.~ Why did she have to leave it all alone?~ Bound to sing for us.~ A worthless monster.~ It never sees us ~ It despises us.~ Lying so useless we start to holler.~ Hey get up you worthless circus monster.~"

You ran and ran until you made one last turn and ran to what looked like a part in the curtains. Things slowly came to a full stop as soon as you ran through the open and you stopped. Panting and having for air while looking around the room you happened to find yourself in. It was a room as big as about three bedrooms with floor black and glittery beneath your feet. The curtains surrounding you were all a dark blue and there wasn't any parts or hallways leading anywhere...in fact the doorway you stepped through was magically gone as well leaving you trapped within.

"Am I having a stroke in my sleep or something?!"

"Maybe not a stroke but definitely tripping over yourself. Maybe it was something you ate."

You jumped whirling around wide eyed at the sounds of the male voice, but found no one around the room but the curtains. "Who's there?!"

"Whaaaat? You don't recognize the sounds of my scrumptious voice?~"

The voice sounded like it was coming from no where and everywhere at once so it was hard to pinpoint where exactly you should look. "You don't sound like anyone my brain would conjure up." Didn't sound familiar at all.

A small silence followed as you continued to look around the strange room.

"You spent so much time here right under my gaze for so long, and yet you have no idea who I am? I am hurt I must say."

"I don't even know where I am right now." Other than inside your own head in a dream. "Who are you anyways?" A figment of your imagination obviously not sure why you were asking. But who knows where this was going?

"Ugh. That question again? Booooring! I get asked that so many times I might as well ask myself it whenever I meet someone at this point," the echoing man's voice responded. 

"Wow. I didn't know my inner voice could be so sarcastic to me." That got a loud chuckle from the voice as you just stared up at the dark ceiling and crossed your arms. Well you were getting no where so maybe a more intuitive question. "Ok. Then can I talk to you face to face? Dream or not, it's rude not to be able to see whoever you're talking to."

"Finally! A question for me! And it only took five minutes of meeting you! What a record!"

Your brow rose. "So where are you?"

You jumped when the sounds of a LITERAL drum roll dramatically sounded off from no where just like the previous instruments had. 

"Im heeeeere! Ladies and gentledemons. The world's finest playwright, post, director, actor, clown, and everyone's most beloved trickster!"

Before you the curtains parted wide open. A loud explosion sounded out like a loud firecracker, white fog flowing out from the other side as the drumroll continued. Before from out of the fog, a figure twirled you leaned back as something landed with a thud in front of you.

"TADA! The star of the show has arrived!" The talk figure announced twirling a scepter and smirking like anyone would be impressed with his mere presence. "Whatcha think? Entrance stage right as the theater nerds say."

You...blinked. Could only stare at this..thing before you as he smiled down at your form. You were right. It definitely was a clown but a very ODD looking clown. Dressed up mostly in black from the shoes up with a few blue diamond patterns, except for a puffy white collar, and two puffy sleeves one white one black with blue stripes. Speaking of blue, his skin and eyes was various shades of blue too, as well as his hair with white and black sprinkled in but the thing that weirded you out the most was the plethora of eyes that stared back at you from the locks. 

You continued to stare, shaking your head blinking as your brain tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Before something tapped you hard on your head. 

"Hellooooo! Was my appearance too much for your fragile mindset or somethin'? Wouldn't be the first time I broke a mortal."

"Hey! Stop that!" You swatted his hands harmlessly away as he giggled, giving a glare. "Who even are you anyways?"

"Oh. Where are my manners?" Reaching up a blue hand, he pulled off a blue,black, and white jester hat you hadn't noticed before and dramatically bowed. "Shadow Milk at your service, or well you're more of a MY service now that I think about it." He popped back up just tossing the hat up and somehow it miraculously landed on his head again, before one hand went to his hip as the other tapped against his scepter whick had some kind of shiny blue gem in the shape of an eye on it's end. "Now that the boring introductions are outta the way, what say we get down to the bare crumbs?"

"Shadow...Milk?? That's a pretty weird name even for a clown."

He instantly frowned. "Hey!" The end of that scepter was pointed at your face. "Look here. You humans name your spawn Porsche and Mercedes. Last time I was on the human plane, those were the names of those guzzling metal carriages you ride in. Looots of death in those things."

"...Ok. Point taken." You guessed clowns were supposed to have ridiculous names anyways. You took a moment to really look over his frowning man jester thing as his foot tapped against the sparkly obsidian black floor beneath your feets. "What movie did I watch to conjure you up?"

"Pfft! Ahahaha!!" Throwing his head back he laughed loudly at the very thought he could be anything but a thing conjured up in your dream. "Absolutely NOTHING! Hate to break it to you, Cupcake, but this-" His hands gestured to his talk body with a proud smile. "-is aaaalllll natural! One hundred percent dark matter with a two percentage of calcium and hellfire from where I was baked in the fiery Dante's Inferno oven with guaranteed sinful actions!!"

You chuckled at his actions. "So you're what? A demon?"

"DING, DING, DING!! WE GOT OURSELVES A WINNER FOLKS!!" His hands clapped together letting the scepter float mid air. "A round of applause for you. You're actually the second fastest one to figure that out. The first one was the guy who wanted me to torture this rival king in his dreams. Ah. Such deliciously soul crushing memories.~ Brings a tear to my eyes."

"This is unbelievably." A hand reached up to rub your head. "It was probably the litter of coke I drank."

"Unbelievably or not we got a few things to go over. This part's boring so I just like to get it outta the way." With a snap of his fingers a rolled up paper and gold monocle appeared out of thin air only to Unravel by itself and the man, Shadow Milk, to place the monocle on his left eye to boredly read it. "Alright. As according to the rules between the different realms any deal made between a demon and mortal is binding until the task is completed or the higher ups cancel the contract, but you put us in quite the problem."

You couldn't believe this was happening. You were never drinking that much soda before bed again if it gave you a stroke level hallucinating fever dream like this- Wait. "Wait." He boredly glanced up as you pointed to yourself. "What do mean my fault?"

"To put it in little words you're inferior human brain would understand, I was summoned but it's all mixed up and not in the fun 'mess with the heads of the inoocents'" way I prefer." He looked annoyed pointing the monocle at nothing as he gestured with his hands. "I was summoned here by someone but YOU were my offering."

You blinked. "I was your WHAT?!"

He groaned rolling his eyes. "Don't any humans know basic rites anymore? Ok! I'll explain it the long way then." He took a dramatic deep inhale and turned to you. "When you summon a demon you can't just summon something for nothin', Cupcake. We expect to be paid for our work-" he made a money motion with a hand. "-just like anyone else. Usually it's something like sacrificing an animal or mutual benefits like getting to stay on this plane of existence for a spell, but in my infinite power and life I've never been in a puzzle like this."

"Wha-?" He cut you off by pointing a finger in your face.

"Your human friend summoned me, however it wasn't her blood but yours used in the offering so technically YOU are the one bound to me but usually the one who actually summoned me is who I serve. So you see? I'm literally stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"Then .. can't you serve us both if that's what's wrong?" You didn't know why you were going along with this.

"Usually yeah. It wouldn't be the first time I served a group of people." He leaned back against an invisible wall in mid air as he looked you over. "Problem is that you didn't exactly partake in the ritual itself and didn't concent to be an offering if you didn't know that you WERE gonna be one."

"Demons need concent for contracts?"

He shrugged. "The bosses down there are very touchy on rules what can I say?"

"Have you even tried talking to Margo?!" This was starting to get WAY too detailed to be real and it was starting to freak you out. 

"Ugh! Yes. But as soon as she found out your little game wasn't legend she freaked out. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I'm not getting anywhere with that lost cause. Sssooooo- You can see the problem I have here." He started holding up fingers with the listed off points. "She doesn't want anything. Technically I can't go back because I was summoned and I have to complete a task before I get off. There's no getting through to her, so that means I'm stuck in limbo which is WAY more difficult than Purgatory. At least their place has a waiting list. No completed ritual means I'm stuck between realms and can't get out until I'm banished back or a deal is completed! But there's problems with that too."

"Im a-afraid to ask."

"Technically you are my offering since it was your blood. So technically you're mine,  Dolly. Problem is that I can't claim you either as you weren't a part of the ritual by technicality, and while human sacrifices aren't unheard of, it's usually only certain types of beings that can accept unwilling souls as payments. Your friend doesn't even want anything from me so I can't complete anything for her, I can't just claim you without fulfilling my part of your concent, so this means I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

You stared at him. He stared at you cocking a brow at your face. The entire place going quiet as you felt the immense weight of the situation hit you. And if he didn't snap his fingers materializing a chair beneath you, you might've fallen to the sparkly ground in shock.

"I...You...Wh-What happens now then?!" You looked at him desperately. "Do you just make a deal with me then?!"

"That'd be the ideal choice, but unfortunately it's no longer up to me." Head in his hand he pointed the other one down. "The higher ups are discussin' this boring show as we speak, and they're already getting a headaches over it."

MORE demons!? "What are THEY going to do?!"

"They're trying to decide if there's anything to do here. It's confusing though since this hasn't exactly happened before, but worst case scenario they'll decide everything's null and void and arrange for an angel to come banish me back down there."

"An..Angel??"

"Mm hm." Then he made a face. "Knowing my luck it'll be Pure Vanilla."

..You blinked. "There's an angel called Pure Vanilla??.. You're joking this time."

"Oh I WISH I could joke about his existence being fake but unfortunately this isn't scripted or staged."...He then chuckled and smiled a maw of fangs at you. "Guess if worst comes to worst, Pure Vanilla is just gonna 'extract' me!~"

You stared at him.

"Oh, c'mon. Pure Vanilla extract?? That's a golden joke!" He sighed as you still stared. "Nevermind. I have better ones anyways." With a snap of his fingers everything disappeared minus the chair you sat on and he smiled wider in sinful delight as he floated on over. "Personally speaking, I hope they decide to let me keep you for my troubles.~"

You blinked as an arm skunk around your shoulders suddenly pulling you against his cold body. "Wha- WHY?!"

"I've been in your head for a while watching you work away on your stories, what you think, seeing how you do things. And I must say.." He almost purred the next few words. "I LIKE what I see.~ You're just my type of human.~" he pinched your cheek as you swatted his hand away quickly. 

"That's creepy!! And that's not gonna happen!"

"I'm afraid it's out of both of our hands, Cupcake. As they say 'that's how the cookie crumbles.'" A black pointed nail tapped your cheek as his smile widened more. "I'm afraid you're not going to be rid of me for a long, long time. Ehehehe!"

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes

pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader

word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.

part two is out!

tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship

author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

god stood me up

and I don't know why

lights are on

but nobody's home

you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.

logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.

there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.

“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.

he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.

you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”

“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.

“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.

“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.

when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.

[bon2bonn]

Media Menace

22!F1 grid X female!driver!reader

Words count : 1.5k

* just Some of the fans favourite moments of Y/N being the media menace she is ✨.

It was as a normal interview with Seb standing in the media pin , being asked about the drivers and the line up so far , he listened carefully before he answered " well , I think we have a solid lineup so far, each have their own unique driving style and that makes it more interesting to see and to compete with on track , they surly matured from where they started and........" What the fans didn't expect was when the camera zoomed in on the back of the pin , where some of the drivers were seen carrying a wiggling Charles trying to escape their hold as they marched on , being led by Y/N , who was chanting " to the pit ! , to the pit! " hand raised with a water bottle in it , her media officer could be seen standing at the back facepalming as she watched her driver walking away unfazed by the cameras following them .

••

*Crack-heads leader 🪄.

They paused as they came across Fernando , who was being interviewed close by and asked her something while pointing at Charles, she answered back and he nods at her , raising his own water bottle in a cheer , letting them go on their way with Charles seemingly pleading to be let down but no one dared to help him as the rest of the grid and media officers watched in amusement as they disappeared out of frame , the camera zoomed out and turned back to Seb as he finished his answer , blissfully unaware of the chaos behind him .

•••••••••••••••••••

* The road to Silverstone fistfight! , choose your fighter ! MV#33 Vs LH#44 🥊💪🏻.

She sat between Max and Lewis, bored out of her mind and fed up with their pity low-key shit talk by both drivers along with her team's principal and the media exaggerating the rivalry between them three , ignoring the reporters trying to bait her with their twisted questions as yet again she got stuck in the crossfire.

One reporter asked "what's your input on the ongoing feud ? " she let out a sigh at the repeated question for the millionth time this weekend alone , answering with a shrug " I don't know mate , I just work here " . Another one asked " what do you think of this ongoing rivalry, and do you think it'll last and how today's results will effect tomorrow's race ? " She answered nonchalantly " I sure hope it wouldn't affect tomorrow's race for I'm starting between them " giving them both a pointed look as if warning them , both looked away trying to maintain a stoic face listening as she went on answering , ignoring her officer who kept waving their hands at her from the back to cut it out " and as for if it'll last I honestly think today's quali could've been a fist fight, you know , end it there and move on with their day but no one is ballsy enough to arrange it , so here we are " leaving the reporters with a hanging jaws and taken back looks along with the driver's media officers as she leaned back into her chair waiting patiently for the next question .

•••••••••••••••••••••

* "Bitch! , I'm out!" .

Being seated in another post-race conference with Seb and Lewis after scoring P2 after a breathtaking battle against Seb, both Seb and her were beyond exhausted from pushing eachother to the limit but they enjoyed how they kept eachother at the tip of their toes , same as the fans who were at the edge of their seats anticipating who'd cross the finish line first between these two , and the final lap was proof of it , but she made sure to secure herself the position by one tenth of a second ahead of Sebastian who made sure to congratulate her first , everyone was pleased with the race results, well, everyone but the reporters who kept slipping backhanded remarks starting from the post-race interview up untill the actual press conference where they kept asking whether she considered another career or if she ever consider an early retirement , she got bored as another one asked why she still held on to the F1 career instead on Turning to other fields os sports , she gave him a fed up look " I just wake up everyday and decide that I want to make my life harder , why choose something else easier while I can make myself miserable here with you lot asking me the same question in hopes I'd give a different answers?" That got them to shut down for a while before another one asked the same , again.

Before either Seb or Lewis could shut them for their way or choice of questions she took the mic with no hesitation addressing the reporter who asked her for the third time when she'll take the retirement decision " look , and listen carefully cause I'm going to say it once , and I won't be repeating myself . when I Y/N L/N finally decide to retire from F1 my statement would be " Bitch, I'm out " nothing more , and definitely nothing less , so untill I myself say I am retiring I won't entertain this question anymore, and I advise you along with everyone else to do the exact same thing . next question please ! " Leaning back with a leg crossed over her knee as she waited for the next question . And It'd be save to say no one dared to poke at her with such assumptions after that answer , and earning herself the Bear nickname.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

* Toto's karma .

She rolled her head back distractedly looking up at the sky as she had to sit again through one of the team's interviews with her and Lewis both stuck with Toto as he went on and on about the teams competing against Red Bull and their chances this season and his opinion on drivers etc ...., she looked at the side , waving at some of the fans who walked by and shouted for her attention, sending them hearts and making faces before she was brought back by the host asking them three " speaking of the Red Bulls and the on going rivalry , who can you say is your favourite driver " Toto answered before any of his driver's could do, in a dismissing tone " in Red Bull? , I can't say there's anyone one I can name " . she however smirked as she shared a side look with her teammate before she answered ignoring Toto's pointed look giving him a wide tight lipped syndical smile " Oh! , but I know one I could name , you might be very familiar with him after all " the host eagerly look at her waiting for her answer " my favourite Red Bull bull driver is Toto Christian Wolff " Lewis tried to hold back his laugh as she kept smiling smugly at the said man , who looked away at the mention of his name with his eyes clenched in a grimace , wondering what have he ever done in his past life to get her as a karma/driver . The host stuttered before changing the topic , asking the drivers about their upcoming summer breaks and holidays .

••••••••••••••••••••••

* lando's downfall (literally) .

She stood in the media pit doing an interview with one of her favourite reporters , answering swiftly as the reporter gave her questions she actually enjoyed for once , not the diet and ignorant questions as if she barely knew anything about the sport , let alone drive . Her interview was going well , too well if she could say , because not long after she was halfway through answering her question , a gremlin decided to poke her for the fun of it. Having finished his interview already he turned to her to fill the time before his next interview , and boy would he regret it .

She kept swating his hands away and smacking him in attempt to finish her interview in peace , but no , he didn't pay her any mind untill he was called away . She glared at his smug face as he successfully annoyed her for the day , then she looked at the reporter with a wide sweet smile as she said " he'll regret it , trust me " nodding along as the reporter laughed nervously at her not knowing how to react , but that turned into shock as the driver excused herself for a moment.

she went around the pit sneaking up behind the McLaren driver, giving a thumps up to the reporter who looked at the camera with wide eyes before back at her , only to witness as she swept her foot in a kick aimed at the back of lando's knees, causing him to gasp as his feet gave up on him and he fell face first on the ground mid interview . She dusted her hands in accomplishment as she made her way back to the interview , asking as she smiled innocently " so , where were we?"

[filmsbyun]

A Prince's Respite || Yang Jeongin

CHAPTER TWO: THE BOOK

.☘︎ ݁˖Back to story ml

Lately, Prince Jeongin has been plagued by relentless nightmares and sleepless nights. As the kingdom’s head pharmacist—and his oldest friend—you’ve tried every remedy in your arsenal, but nothing seems to bring him peace. So, you take it upon yourself to craft something entirely new, a cure never attempted before. What begins as a quest to help the boy you’ve always cared for quickly turns into something far more complicated. You only meant to ease his nightmares, but you end up getting more than you bargained for.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 20.6k

pairing: prince!Yang Jeongin x head pharmacist!afab!reader

[NOTE that: Specific warnings will be listed before every chapters]

chapter warnings: kissing, attempt at humour, yang jeongin is a man drunk in love, tooth-rotting fluff, assassination attempt, violence [probably missed some]

FINALLY THIS CHAPTER HAS LEFT THE DUNGEONS!! I got busy with life and some other stuff heuheu I'm sorry for the delay my loves </3 But hold your horses, things get a little messy from this chapter! Man I can't believe it'll end next chapter :(( Reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

© filmsbyun ── please do not copy, translate, or repost my work without permission.

The crown weighed heavier when your heart was elsewhere.

Jeongin had worn the crown all morning like it was made of lead, the ceremonial band pressed into the lines where his thoughts should have been. But they were not. They had long since drifted back in your office wrapped up in the aftertaste of your lips. He couldn’t shake off your voice when you admitted you would have given him your permission; the softness of your admittance had undone him more thoroughly than the kiss ever could. It chanted like a benediction between his ribs, looping in his mind with the rhythmic beat of his pulse.

The court was looking at a prince who was set to be the future king to speak of the fate of borderland villages and spring harvests, while all he could think about was how he’d find the courage to look you in the eyes again. 

Jeongin was a prince with a kingdom to inherit, but he loved you like a boy who knew nothing of crowns and like a man who had already chosen his forever. 

“You’re distracted.”

Night had lowered its velvet black veil. Jeongin didn’t even flinch, merely sighing deeply as Hyunjin without an ounce of decorum strolled in. Who else would it be? No one else talks to a prince like they’re trying to annoy him on purpose. 

“Didn’t I tell you to knock?” Jeongin muttered, not bothering to look up. Hyunjin’s habit of entering rooms unannounced is becoming a major pain. The last time he did, he had nearly walked in on Jeongin very much entangled with you in a moment that no one was supposed to witness.

Hyunjin completely ignored his complaint, flopping lazily onto the chair across him, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied grin. “It’s my duty as your loyal knight to check up on you, Your Highness.” Then with a serious expression, “I’ve been ordered to stay close to you because of you-know-what.”

That earned Hyunjin a glance, albeit brief. “You’re not checking up on me,” Jeongin stated, voice dry. He knitted his brows. “You’re up to something.”

“Observant as always.” Hyunjin smirked, resting his elbow on the prince’s desk. “But you’re only half right. I am here to guard you and while I’m at it, I figured I’d complete my side quest.”

Jeongin groaned internally. He did not have the mental capacity to put up with whatever idiotic idea Hyunjin had conjured up. Hyunjin’s grin only widened at Jeongin’s perturbed state. 

“How long do you plan on hiding it, Your Highness?” his eyes narrowed slightly.

Jeongin raised an eyebrow, not bothering to reply just yet, hoping the silence would serve as enough of a hint. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied eventually. He hoped he sounded bored enough. But Hyunjin was not one to give up easily. The man could poke a stone until it cracked.

Hyunjin scoffed, rolled his eyes so hard Jeongin found himself wishing they fell off inside his skull. “Oh, please. Spare me the act, Jeongin. We both know exactly who I’m talking about.”

A muscle jumped in Jeongin’s jaw but he gave no other reaction. So that’s what it was. Jeongin had a feeling sooner or later this idiot would come to play cupid. But there was no way Hyunjin knew about last night—no one did. The memory was his alone.

Besides, Jeongin wasn’t even sure he had the courage to tell Hyunjin what happened without combusting into a stuttering and embarrassed mess. The confident man from last night was on the verge of recoiling in a fetal position every time he thought about it. Everytime he thought of you. Jeongin coughed softly, covering his mouth behind a fist as a flush crept on the tip of his ears. Hyunjin pickled it up immediately. 

Aha, now it’s getting fun! Hyunjin’s face is a stiff smile, undeterred. “As your knight, I must advise you against letting personal emotions cloud your judgment,” he said, back straight, hands folded in mock seriousness. “As your friend, however—” He dropped the act in an instant. “—I’d like to formally call you a coward.”

Jeongin ran a hand through his hair as if doing so will scrape the embarrassment out of his scalp. “Hyunjin.” 

“You like her.”

No point denying it. Hyunjin didn’t need to know that part. 

“I know you do.”

Jeongin exhaled deeply through his nose and stared pointedly at a stack of reports. Anything was better than meeting Hyunjin’s eyes.

“And before you argue,” Hyunjin added, tone brightening with faux innocence, “need I remind you how you practically set the practice arena on fire with your sheer lack of focus this morning? What was that? That was pathetic, Jeongin. Truly. "

He didn’t need to be reminded. Jeongin could still feel the scorch of mortification. During the morning patrol, while he had been walking the perimeter watching sparring pairs and giving corrections—he caught sight of you heading toward the greenhouse. Your eyes met across the courtyard. He had expected you to look away or wear the mask of indifference during your duties you usually wear, but no, you’d smiled and waved at him. Smiled and waved. 

 That simple gesture meant everything and had jolted his thoughts back into chaos. In that one second of distraction, his hand had clipped the edge of a brazier stand. It crashed spectacularly to the ground, flames licking the edges of a banner. 

Hyunjin was still talking. "All that over a smile and a wave. Honestly, if you’re going to embarrass yourself, at least make it look cool. Something better than tipping over fire pits like a common lovesick fool."

Jeongin groaned and leaned forward to press his forehead to the cool wood of his desk. Maybe if he stayed still long enough, Hyunjin would leave. Or maybe the floor would open up and swallow him whole. But neither happened.

Hyunjin grinned, teeth flashing like he’d just discovered the juiciest secret in court. “Oh? No protest? No ‘Hyunjin, don’t be ridiculous’? Interesting.” He leaned in further, lowering his voice. “So, Your Highness. What are you planning to do about it?”

Jeongin let out a slow breath, controlled but not nearly deep enough to drown the thoughts swarming in his skull. At last, he met Hyunjin’s gaze across the desk, chin tilted with princely poise.

“Nothing.” He lied.

Hyunjin reeled back as if personally offended. “Nothing?”

Jeongin looked back down at his desk, straightening the papers that didn’t even need straightening, not even a crease out of place. “It’s not that simple.” He lied again.

Hyunjin scoffed, his disbelief practically rolling off him in waves. “It is that simple. You like her. She—” He paused, then clicked his tongue. Hyunjin played cupid with you that day and got all the answers he needed. “Well, let’s just say if you did do something about it, I doubt she’d turn you away.”

At that, Jeongin got reminded of your words of affirmation. But even then, even with your hands in his hair and your lips pressed to his like you meant it, he’d been too afraid to stay long enough to hear what you had to say. So he chickened out and left without giving you the chance to reply. This time, the blush didn’t just touch his ears, it smothered his entire face.

 “Oh?” Hyunjin pounced on it immediately. “Oh? Look at you, getting all flustered. That’s cute.”

“Get out, Hyunjin.” Jeongin muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “Leave me alone.”

“You know I can’t really do that. I’ll be stationed just outside your chamber. But as you command, Your Highness.” He stood up and gave a theatrical bow, turning to leave. “I’ll leave you to your tragic pining—”

“Wait.”

Hyunjin paused mid-step, arching a brow over his shoulder. Jeongin was already on his feet, the chair screeching faintly against the floor as he all but bolted across the room with a speed that gave Hyunjin momentary whiplash. Hyunjin deduced to himself that the sudden mood swings were also probably symptoms of being lovesick.

Prince Jeongin seemed to have two illnesses plaguing him at the same time.

Jeongin stopped before a small, intricately carved wooden chest nestled between ancient scrolls and diplomatic seals. When he turned back, he held a modest bundle wrapped in deep blue silk.

Hyunjin squinted at it. “...What is that?”

Jeongin refused to explain and instead extended it like a peace offering. “Deliver this to her.”

Hyunjin scowled at the package, then up at Jeongin’s face, now tinted a fresh shade of red.

“What.”

“It’s a gift,” Jeongin muttered, bracing for resistance. “Just give it to her.”

He could fight off political opponents and hold his own in court debates, but the idea of standing in front of you again, of seeing your face with no walls between you, made him feel like he was seventeen and hopelessly lovesick. So he prayed—an entire internal monologue of prayers, to the heavens, to fate, to anyone who might grant him this mercy—that Hyunjin, for once in his life, would do what he was told without being a little shit.

Hyunjin, very pointedly, did not take it. “Jeongin.”

The heavens were cruel and apparently not listening.

“I’m not an errand boy.”

Jeongin exhaled, attempting patience. “Hyunjin—”

“I am specifically not a messenger.”

Jeongin rubbed his temple with the slow, controlled agony. He was beginning to spiral. “You’re being difficult.”

Hyunjin crossed his arms. “Oh, I’m being difficult? Says the man who could hand it to her himself but is instead asking me—who has no part in this—to play delivery boy?” He narrowed his eyes, tone sharpening with relish. “Coward.”

Jeongin’s brow twitched, his jaw tightening as he fought to maintain some semblance of regal dignity. But the truth was, Hyunjin was right—he was acting like a coward. He had given you the pieces of his heart in the dead of night, wrapped in honesty and sealed with a kiss, and now he couldn’t even bring himself to look you in the eye.

Maybe chivalry is dead. It died when he carved out his heart and placed it in your hand last night, allowing you to do whatever you wanted to do with it. Wait, did it really die though?

Maybe it was simply tucked away in the palm of your hands along with his heart, resting safely in the place where his courage had fled. Either way, it didn’t help him now.

“Give it to her yourself,” Hyunjin added, taking full advantage of his victory. He was now fully enjoying himself. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared.”

Jeongin pinched the bridge of his nose like he could physically force away the headache Hyunjin had become. “This is not complicated—”

“No, what’s not complicated is that you can walk up to her yourself and hand it over like a normal person,” Hyunjin snapped, voice laced with exasperation. He threw his hands up. “What, do you want me to curtsy too? Give a substantial speech? ‘My prince bids thee well, oh wise and mysterious healer, and bestows upon thee this most precious—’”

“Enough.” Jeongin’s tone didn’t rise, but it hardened, eyes flashing as he shot Hyunjin a look that could slice steel. He was seconds away from punching Hyunjin’s pretty face. Hyunjin never knew when to shut up, and right now, the words were scraping nerve endings raw.

“Then take your gift,” Hyunjin equally shot back. “March your princely self over there and give it to her.”

Jeongin is a rational person (well, sometimes). He knew Hyunjin meant nothing but harm—no, that wasn’t right. He meant nothing but well and it wasn’t some cruel joke or mocking jab. But the fact remained that he wasn't compliant enough to lend him a hand during his most hardest times. Alright maybe Jeongin was being a tad too dramatic about this, but whatever! Hyunjin had always played the role of the aggravating knight-friend hybrid who seemed to know exactly where Jeongin’s walls were built and made it his mission to kick at them.

Jeongin opened his mouth, but no answer came other than a brief hesitation before his lips pressed into a thin line. The package in his hand stared up at him mockingly and he had to hold himself back from throwing it square on Hyunjin’s face. 

“C-o-w-a-r-d,” Hyunjin had the audacity to spell it out.

The gift unfortunately hit the desk with a soft thud, silk muffling the impact, though it should’ve been used to smack the knight. Jeongin begrudgingly turned and walked back to his work. He had entertained Hyunjin enough and he wasn’t going to do any of that any more.

Hyunjin grinned. There it was.

“Well then,” he said, smacking his palms together with cheerful finality. “Glad we sorted that out.” He pivoted with a stretch, sniggering away. At least he had the decency to bow before he left the prince’s chamber. 

“Can’t wait to see how long you drag this out.”

Jeongin didn’t say a word, but Hyunjin could feel the heat of his glare boring into the back of his skull like sunlight through a lens. Oh yes, this was infinitely more satisfying than sword drills or standing outside cold hallways. Playing cupid, it turned out, gave a better rush than being a knight ever had. Maybe he’d make it his new job.

Earlier that morning, you were in the middle of a briefing with the newest batch of apprentices when Seo Changbin, the Captain of the Royal Guard, visited you.

Today’s scheduled to be your meeting with the Commander of the Knight Division regarding the potential whereabouts of the knowledge that consisted of the antidote, the risk factors of acquiring it, and the preplanned preparations that may require. Changbin did not entertain you with small talks like he usually did whenever you saw him, and it only showed how dutifully he took the gravity of the situation of the prince. The walk to the commander’s quarter was brief and in silence.

Changbin was greeted by a pair of guards stationed outside the chamber. Their gazes shifted to you with a flicker of acknowledgment before both dipped their heads respectfully. You returned the gesture, your hands instinctively folding in front of you. Changbin pushed the doors open without waiting for permission. You followed him in.

The moment you did, you felt a shiver crawl up your spine as you met the commander’s eyes. Other than the king and queen, there was no one in the entire kingdom who made you more aware of yourself and terrified shitless other than him.

Bang Chan.

Chan stood at the far end of the table, hands braced on either side of a wide map, its parchment worn at the edges from constant handling. He gave you a curt nod accompanied by a small smile that actually eased your initial nerves. Changbin did not enter, however, and closed the door behind you.

"Head Pharmacist," he greeted. "Right on time."

You returned the gesture, crossing the room with your scroll in hand. "Commander. Thank you for receiving me."

As you approached, Chan straightened, his hand dropping from the map to rest briefly on the hilt of his sword before he moved to one side of the table. He gestured toward the open space beside him, clearing a few metal pins used to weigh down the edges.

"We scheduled this for a reason. Let’s hear it."

You stepped into the space beside him, unrolling the scroll across a section of the map that traced the southern borders. It was lined with fragmented text, translated glyphs, and sketches you had copied over the last few days. "There’s a possibility of a lead buried in an old record I stumbled across—one that traces back to the ancient library of Astellin, near the heart of the Atharian kingdom."

Chan’s brow ticked. His hand reached for one of the pins, berthing the scroll before glancing at the markings. "That’s Atharian territory’s protected archives. You’re suggesting we dig through their historical vaults?"

You nodded, eyes still on the scroll. "The original texts that hint at the composition of the antidote were last mentioned in a border transfer led by Atharian scholars nearly two decades ago. There’s a high chance that the remnants were archived there. If we want answers, that library might be our only path."

He leaned over slightly, eyes narrowing at the border routes drawn on the map beneath. His fingers tapped the edge once. "The route is unstable. Their border checks have grown stricter, and we don’t know where their allegiance shifts in moments like these." He straightened again and moved to the shelves along the wall, pulling out a separate ledger of transit records. "Astellin. That’s not a simple journey."

You were very much aware of the setbacks. The region’s still recovering from the last trade collapse. All kinds of movement are monitored closely.

“Should anyone suspect why I’m there, it could draw attention to the palace’s internal state,” you stated the obvious, careful to keep your tone neutral. 

Chan set the ledger down with a dull thud, flipping through several pages. "That can be solved. We have allies there, do we not?"

You nodded. "A few. The Astellin Guild of Apothecaries still corresponds with us occasionally. If you permit it, I can send a letter requesting permission for a scholarly visit. They’re not likely to refuse, especially if I frame it as research."

The Atharian kingdom was no enemy. The current crown maintained a cordial relation with the Levanter kingdom but tensions among vindictive local traders and the unpredictable attitude of the townsfolk still left room for concern. An official permit would ease the passage but risk could never be erased entirely.

You could just hope things went well from here. Your connection with the Guild shouldn’t stand as a problem to the swift entry in the kingdom borders. But one question remained, were you to go alone?

It was as if he read your mind. "You’ll not travel alone. You cannot be harmed no matter what, since the kingdom’s fate rests on your hand,” he stated, eyes scanning both the map and your scroll. The soft rustle of paper filled the room as he once again opened the ledger and ambled towards the shelves.

At that you felt a small spark of pride. Which was soon overshadowed by dread because if words got out to the wrong ears that you were travelling to find a cure for the prince, they might come to deal with you first. In other words, you’re an easy target.

"If you allow it, I’d prefer to take minimal escort. Anything more would draw suspicion. But I trust you’ll know how to manage the security around it." Your reasoning was considered by the commander.

Chan closed the ledger, his jaw tense in thought. He walked slowly back toward the map, hands behind his back, scanning everything once more. "You’ve always known what you’re doing. I won’t question your judgment now. Send the letter. We’ll prepare the rest on our side."

You inclined your head. "Thank you, Commander."

“I’ll make sure you have the protection to get there and return with it."

It was all that needed to be said. And from him, it meant more than any oath.

The first thing you did after returning to your office was pull out your writing tools and scribble down the letter. Once it was finished, you folded the parchment, sealed it with wax, and had one of the messengers send it out for you, ushering him to hurry up. The journey has to be haste. You must leave as soon as you can because it has already been over a week since the blood test. Any more delay than this could lead to… unpleasant scenarios that you’d rather not think of.

The palace security had been increased significantly. Chan had moved fast after the orders were sent out. Troop rotations doubled, access routes monitored, the entire internal staff re-screened. Yet so far, no suspicious persons had been identified. Not one imposter was caught. No evidence of entry from the outside, no tampering with Jeongin’s food or water, no intercepted letters.

It should have comforted you. But instead, it gnawed at you like rot beneath a polished surface. Because if no one suspicious individual had come in, then the threat was already here. And that meant Jeongin was still in danger.

Your thoughts darkened. Who would dare do this? Was it personal? Political? Was it someone with old vendettas against the royal family, someone long thought buried by exile or death? Or perhaps someone who had worn a mask for years, blending in as an ally until the time was right. The possibilities opened before you like a series of locked doors, each more dangerous than the last. You could keep speculating, but your role was not to unearth conspiracies. That duty belonged to Chan.

On the other hand, Jeongin’s body hadn’t shown any signs of lethal deterioration yet. That was both a blessing and a curse. The toxin’s effect could have a long incubation period, or it could strike suddenly. You had seen poisons that mimicked benign symptoms until the final hour. You couldn’t afford to sit here and gamble on time. To sum it up, you have to hurry.

It was beginning to get a little suffocating in your office with every passing second from the sense of urgency that threatened to make you retch your guts out. You needed to step outside, if only to breathe in something other than herb and tension.

You didn’t tell anyone where you were going. The doors to the greenhouse garden opened with a gentle push, and instantly, the contrast was enough to uncoil the tightness within your chest.

The air here was fresh, touched with the sweetness of blooming jasmine and the darker, grounded scent of damp earth. Leaves rustled with each passing breeze, and the soft trickle of the central fountain played in the background like a melody. You wandered past the raised beds of herbs and flowering shrubs, your hand lifting occasionally to brush against rosemary stalks or to fix a leaf curling the wrong way.

The sun was still high, but it had begun its slow descent, casting golden light over the roses swaying gently in the wind. Maybe if you take advantage of this good weather and wrap up your work by afternoon, you can go visit the town to buy the few things you still need. Your cloak would need repair before travel. A few fresh pouches for storage wouldn’t hurt either. And perhaps—

A rustle interrupted your thoughts. You paused, instinct kicking in before reason, and turned toward the sound. It came from just beyond the rose bushes, where the stone garden wall curved gently out of sight. You stepped forward, careful with your footing as you moved around the edge of the bushes only to see a pair of shoes. Your heart lurched when you realized whose shoes those were.

Tucked away behind a rose bush, hidden from the world’s eyes, sat Jeongin.

He looked as though he had been there for a while. His back was against the garden wall, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed lazily, his sword resting at his side. His eyes were closed, his head tilted slightly upward, soaking in the peace of the soft sunlight.

Seeing him from up close again without the formal distance of an audience chamber or a corridor passing stirred memories your body reacted to before your mind had the chance to catch up. Your gaze dropped to his mouth involuntarily, drawn by instinct rather than thought, and the realization hit you so sharply that you jerked back. A gasp nearly escaped before you caught it, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

In that small moment of disorientation, your foot landed wrong, the edge of your heel pressing down on a dry branch nestled beneath layers of moss and soil. The brittle snap cracked through the greenhouse piercing the still air, and Jeongin's eyes flew open. Instantly, both of you froze.

The pulse in your ears surged to a roar, a thudding drumbeat that seemed far too loud to contain within your chest. Jeongin stared at you with a dazed sort of urgency, the barest tremble in his pupils betraying whatever fragile state he’d been in moments before. He was repeatedly blinking his somewhat widened eyes at you as though his vision needed recalibrating to truly see you. His lips parted, but no words followed.

You opened your mouth too, unsure of what you’d even say but then in the blink of an eye he shot to his feet and swiveled around.

You stared for half a second, incredulous. Wait. Was he seriously going to run? The sheer panic in his retreat was almost comical. "Oh no you don’t," you muttered, your instincts taking over.

Before he could bolt through the archway in the hedge, your hand snapped out, fingers locking around his wrist in one swift desperate motion. “Where are you going?” your question went unanswered by the boy. 

He jerked slightly as if he hadn’t expected you to stop him, and then his shoulders gave a slight dip. You were ready to press him more about his sudden retreat attempt, but your entire mind came to a static halt when his balance faltered.

Huh? 

You stepped in, catching his arm with your other hand just before his knees could fully buckle. His center of gravity tilted at the wrong moment. Jeongin’s hunched over your arms, and you felt the brief contact of his palm against your shoulder, the tension in his arm as he tried to pull himself back into composure but his muscles weren’t cooperating. His skin was warmer than it should be.

“Stay still for a while,” you muttered. The edge of command tempered by concern. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

The blood must have rushed to his head, and combined with the toll of poison still working through his system, it was no wonder his steps staggered. To your surprise, he didn’t protest or try to push himself free. You carefully guided him down, crouching to ease him back onto the path where moss curled along the edges of stone. His limbs were slow to follow but compliant, the coordination off just enough to remind you how vulnerable he still was.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed, crouched in front of him now, brushing his bangs back with one hand and placing the other flat over his forehead. He was burning up. 

God fucking dammit. Ever since you officially took upon the role of finding the cure, a part of your job that included Jeongin’s daily vital check up was handed over to the palace physician. It was done so that you could have a lesser workload and focus solely on the research. You’ll need to have a word with that physician because why the fuck was his temperature not under control?

Jeongin made a vague sound of protest, but his voice didn’t carry. You noticed how his eyes darted briefly to your hand still on his arm before flicking away, gaze unfocused and almost sheepish. His eyes travelled anywhere but your face, and his ears were rapidly turning red that was beginning to creep down his neck.

“Were you trying to run away from me just now?” you asked, resting your forearms against your knees to stay level with his eye line, though he continued to look anywhere else—your shoes, the gravel, the bushes behind you. So you gently cupped his jaw, forcing the eye contact that he’d been running away from. 

It was almost fascinating to see how his face combusted into a shade of red from a single touch. His entire posture tensed as though trying very hard not to bolt again. A touch so innocent and yet, this man, the same one who ravished you as if he was on some heady elixir, now threatening to fall apart under your touch. He was so… maddingly cute, and it was killing you.

He coughed lightly, the sound muffled as he turned his face away and brought a hand up between you. “No.” 

“Yes, you were.”

“No—I mean—I was trying to…”

You lifted your brows in invitation, your thumb still resting near his jaw, the smile threatening to tug at the corners of your mouth betraying your own amusement. Okay, maybe, you were being a little devil for having fun seeing him in this flustered state. It felt like you were falling in love with him all over again.

A small sound of mortification escaped him as he dropped his head lower, practically curling inward. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he mumbled, his voice nearly swallowed by the space between you.

You exhaled a short laugh and reached up to adjust the fabric of his collar, checking his pulse beneath the jawline with your thumb. It was more stable now. You kept your hand there a moment longer, then brushed a few stray strands of hair behind his ear. There was a small, fond smile playing on your lips that you didn’t bother to hide.

Yeah. You were definitely falling in love with him all over again.

"Your Highness," you said, the title softened by the way it left your lips. "If you keep running off like this, how will I ever manage to tell you that I love you?"

He slowly lifted his head up. Jeongin’s body sank back against the wall. His eyes widened just enough for the shimmer in them to catch the light. He was visibly fighting against the rawness of whatever emotion had cracked open between you. But this time, he didn’t shy away.

His hand came up, fingers brushing over yours where it still rested against his face, before he curled them around your hand. "Dove," he said under his breath, those intense eyes had softened with such overflowing tenderness that they nearly knocked you off your orbit, "you’re killing me."

He just turned his face slightly, leaned into your palm like he had no idea how else to respond, and pressed a warm, featherlight kiss to the center of it. You couldn't deny the way your chest warmed at the gesture. His lips lingered at the skin of your palm, and though his head remained bowed, his gaze flicked upward from the corner of his eye to watch you. He saw the way the dusty pink of your cheeks mirrored his, the way you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling brightly like a fool, and his thumb moved slightly against the back of your hand like he was memorizing the shape of it.

You tried to gather yourself but what came out was a snort. "Pretty sure I’m doing the exact opposite for you."

He laughed heartily. It filled the small space between you with something far more alive than the dark cloud of uncertainty that was looming over his health. He brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it, then another to your knuckles, reverent in the way he held you. 

No one visited the greenhouse at this hour. Even if anyone did, and they caught you in this act of tenderness, you wouldn’t mind at all.

“There’s something I wanted to give you.” You tilted your head at his words. Jeongin shifted slightly so there was room for you beside him, patting the stone with a boyish smile. “Will you sit with me?”

You shuffled closer, folding your skirt with care before lowering yourself onto the cool stone at his side. Whatever jittery nervousness had chased you both through the moments leading up to this moment seemed to fall away the instant your shoulders aligned. You basked in each other’s presence, as if no part of you remembered what it felt like to be apart.

The two of you were never meant to run from each other but to each other, always, like this.

Jeongin reached into his coat and pulled out a long box wrapped in deep blue silk. You curiously leaned slightly to get a better look, then glanced at him. For a moment, he only stared at it.

Then, instead of handing it to you, he set it down gently between you on the stone, like he was giving you the choice to take it or leave it. It was almost ridiculous, how your chest fluttered at the sight. The bashful softness of the gesture, the lack of pressure—it was cute. So very him. You didn’t know how your heart could take any more of this.

Your fingertips brushed the silk first, feeling the fine texture before you even began to unwrap it. You admired the colour of it as it was one of your favorites. That detail alone made your lips curve. “Receiving a gift from Your Highness,” you said, voice laced with playful charm as your gaze flicked up to his, “oh, aren't I truly blessed?”

You opened the wrapping with care, folding the cloth into neat sections and placing it across your lap as though it were precious in itself. Jeongin watched, his eyes fond. He liked the way you treated things—not just objects, but people, memories, even moments with gentleness. Like everything deserved to be handled with care. 

It was no wonder the people of the kingdom loved you.

“I went to the city a few days ago.”

You remembered. The maids had gossiped about it in the halls, whispering about the prince’s brief visit. It was around the time you and Minho were preparing the concoction.

“It reminded me of you,” he added.

When you lifted the lid of the box, all at once your world slowed. Nestled inside was a bolo tie, unlike any you’d seen before. Its centerpiece was a plum blossom, delicate in shape and crafted in a soft metallic gold with subtly curved petals that lend it a lifelike charm. Slender golden cords extended from it, long enough to trail down the chest in a graceful line, ending in small teardrop-shaped tips. 

You gasped softly, unable to contain your awe. It was one of the prettiest bolo ties you’ve ever seen.

“The night we met as kids,” Jeongin’s fingers found their way to your hair, combing through the strands in a gesture so sweet it made you meet his eyes without hesitation. His voice was warm. “Do you remember, the plum blossoms were in full bloom?”

You did remember it vividly. The thought that he, who had grown into a prince with the burdens of a crown, still held onto that fleeting image from so long ago, had taken that memory and turned it into a gift—it overwhelmed you. You looked back at the piece, your hand brushing over the flower, your finger tracing the edge of the petals with care.

"It’s beautiful," you murmured, voice unsteady in the wake of too many emotions. The truth was, it was more than beautiful. It was thoughtful. It was him.

And it was yours.

Jeongin shifted beside you, the fabric of his coat brushing against your sleeve as he took the box from you. His fingers closed around the tie and he held it up between you, the plum blossom catching a glint of sunlight through the leaves above.

"May I help you put it on?"

You nodded, already turning with your hands gathering your hair and lifting it from your neck. Behind you, Jeongin rose to his knees on the stone, one hand brushing past your shoulder as he reached around to fasten the tie. You felt the gentleness in his actions as he clasped the cords around the collar of your shirt, making you wonder how much reverence he shows even in doing simple things.

He adjusted the tie gently, his knuckles grazing your back when he smoothed the collar over it. When he sat back, you turned, brushing your hair back into place. Your hands skimmed over the front of your uniform, fingers pausing at the tie now resting against the white fabric. It stood out beautifully—the gold catching against the clean lines of your collar, the cords draping down elegantly.

You looked up at him, eyes bright, lips curving into a smile so full of warmth it seemed to light your face from within. "Thank you."

Jeongin mirrored your smile, eyes dropping to the tie as if to make sure it sat just right. "Do you have time to stay a little longer?"

The question made you pause. You glanced at the horizon behind him, where the sky had begun to shift its colour. You'd nearly forgotten that there were still tasks ahead of you, preparations you were supposed to take. Ah, what a shame. This lovely afternoon could’ve been spent with him but you had your duties.

Duties that cradled the fate of the boy you loved.

You shook your head slightly. "I need to go into the city before evening. I want to prepare in advance for the journey."

“Journey?” He straightened at that, expression still relaxed, though you didn’t miss the flicker of confusion in his eyes. It seemed like the prince wasn’t aware of the decisions taken by the commander and you this morning. You reached for the folded silk on your lap, smoothing it flat again before tucking it into your pocket, giving yourself something to do with your hands.

“Oh, umm, I will be travelling to Atharian.” You kept your voice even, glancing back at him before turning slightly so he could hear you better. You tell him about the leads you’ve gathered on the antidote, and the meeting with Chan.

The letter to the other kingdom would arrive at dawn. That much you knew. And though no formal reply had returned yet, something inside you told you they wouldn’t hesitate in granting the request. You assured him about the safety measures that will be taken by Chan.

You rose from the stone, dusting your hands on the sides of your skirt before meeting his gaze again, hands clasped behind your back. Jeongin sighed softly. He took a moment longer before standing as well, his fingers sweeping over the sides of his coat and brushing at the fabric near his waist.

You assumed he would fall into step beside you so you began to walk ahead, letting your pace carry you along the worn path. The soft crunch of leaves beneath your shoes was the only sound for a second before you heard him speak, "I'll go with you."

You halted mid-step, your entire frame tensing before you twisted around, eyes wide and brows lifted comically high in disbelief. "What?!" you yelped, your voice pitching as your arms moved slightly forward, as if to stop the very idea from taking shape. You gaped at him. "Your Highness, for god’s sake—please don’t fool around like that. You know you’re the target of a potential assassination and you cannot, under any circumstances, be travelling! Even with security—"

Jeongin stepped forward before your words could build further and reached out, his palm resting on your head as he, oh so familiarly, ruffled your hair. Tilting his head to the side, he exhaled with a tone that sounded far too fond for the chaos he’d just stirred. "I meant I was going to accompany you to the city."

You blinked. Then blinked again. "Oh," you said, flatly, the word devoid of anything except stunned resignation. You let your hands drop to your sides and then crossed your arms. "You should’ve said that instead—" 

Then your brain caught up, making your face twist. "Wait, no, what the hell—that’s even worse. How will you go to the city with me without an official arrangement? My point still stands! Even with security it’s too risky,” you repeated.

Jeongin hummed a cheery tune and took three unhurried steps ahead of you, hands in his coat pockets, as if your distress was no more than a passing breeze. Your brows pulled together further, jaw tightening as you picked up your pace, catching up to him. Sometimes this man made you think if he had no sense of danger at all. Except, you knew how capable of a fighter he is, but you still couldn’t help but worry.

He glanced back with that maddening fox-like grin. His eyes locked on yours, bright and far too satisfied. You couldn’t help but flash a helpless smile back at him because you knew he’d made up his mind.

"I have my ways, dove."

Jeongin’s idea of having "his ways" came to fruition in the form of him standing smack in the middle of your office dressed in what he proudly declared to be a knight’s disguise (his words, not yours) with Felix in tow. 

Your gaze shifted from Jeongin’s absurdly confident posture to Felix who did nothing more than stand dutifully by the door. Your lips pulled into a grimace before you could help it. Considering this man had, until recently, been tailing you under the queen’s direct orders, you figured a little bit of discomfort was warranted which only ten-folded when he flashed you his angelic charming smile. 

It made your skin crawl in an eerie manner as that utterly disarming grin contrasted jarringly with the knowledge that he could snap a neck with the same grace he laced his boots. You managed a crooked, vaguely diplomatic smile in return, and quickly turned your attention to the larger problem in the room.

"This is ridiculous," you said dryly, not even bothering to sugarcoat.

Jeongin twirled around, the black cape of the knight uniform catching air. "It’s perfectly gullible," he said cheerfully, as if you were the unreasonable one.

Your hand twitched at your side, resisting the urge to drag it down your face.

Jeongin, apparently very pleased with himself, stepped over to your window and looked at his reflection in the glass pane, adjusting the lower part of the scarf that covered his face up to just under the eyes. He turned slightly, examining the way the shoulder pads sat, even dusting off a few specks of nonexistent lint. He faced you again with a satisfied nod. "No one will recognize me like this."

"For sure, Your Highness," you muttered, gesturing vaguely at the way he carried himself—too upright and obviously royal. “Imagine the scandal you’ll cause once they realize who you are.”

"That’s why I brought Felix."

Your gaze shifted back to the spy albeit this time, it was intentional. Felix regarded you with the same smile. You raised your eyebrows at him pointedly. Are you serious about this? Your expression asked without needing words.

Felix met your look with all the serenity of a monk who had seen far too much (he, in fact, did). His expression didn’t change but there was a slight tilt of his head which was imperceptible to most, paired with a subtle exhale that felt like a wordless sigh. I only follow orders, it said. Nevertheless, his eyes added with unbothered frankness, Though I must admit this is quite dumb.

Alright, good to know you both were on the same page. You think you like Felix again. Perhaps you could forgive him for stalking you across palace grounds and peeking through your laboratory windows. Maybe you’ll give him back your friendship card!

Jeongin, unaware or perhaps entirely aware of the exchange happening across the room, strode toward your desk, plucked a small glass vial off one corner and examined it with the intense scrutiny of someone who definitely didn’t know what he was looking at. "We’re leaving in an hour, yes?"

You didn’t think it was possible to leave the palace grounds without raising alarms, not with how tight security had been since Jeongin’s life was placed under a target’s mark. But it appeared that having Felix by your side smoothed the path in ways you hadn’t expected. Every time you passed a stationed guard, their gazes lowered in synchronized deference, hands pressed to their chest in a formal bow as they stepped aside to let you and your companions through. None questioned the knight at your side. None paused to scrutinize his posture or ask why he walked just a step too closely. It helped that Felix led the way, his presence was enough to dispel suspicion.

Once beyond the gates and into the vast stretch of the open road, Jeongin bumped your arm with the curve of his elbow, and though only his eyes were visible beneath the helmet and scarf that concealed the rest of his face, the glint in them was unmistakably smug. You turned toward him just in time to catch the tilt of his brow, the slight narrowing of his gaze, the wordless but wholly arrogant expression of triumph.

Told you!

You huffed a small laugh as your gaze trailed off to the treeline that bordered the main path. The sun had dipped lower since you last looked, the sky now painted in shades of copper and garnet. Darkness was arriving and with it came the promise of cover; Jeongin’s disguise would hold better once night fell fully. Still, a tight knot of worry curled low in your chest, pressing against your ribs with growing insistence that his sudden disappearance from the palace wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. You only hoped he’d thought far enough ahead to prepare some sort of excuse, a cover that wouldn’t spiral into panic or diplomatic disaster.

“Don’t worry.” Felix’s deep voice beside you startled you out of your thoughts. He walked up beside you, one gloved hand gripping the reins of a dark-coated horse. Was your face really that readable? Or could this freaky man read minds too? 

Your eyes narrowed at him. He only smiled faintly at your reaction, as though the very act of startling you had been intentional. "Her Majesty is aware of this arrangement," he continued, lifting the reins slightly in his hand. "She’ll take care of it."

You were baffled to say the least. The queen allowed her son to sneak away like this? 

Felix adjusted the saddle strap on the horse, his other hand still resting lightly against the creature’s neck. "She thinks he ought to have some freedom," he said, gaze lifting once again—not to you, but past you. "And she believes he deserves to breathe easier for a day."

You followed his eyes, your attention drawing naturally to the figure a few paces ahead. Jeongin had stepped slightly off the road, standing at the edge of the path as he surveyed the distance ahead. His hands rested behind his back, posture oddly formal despite the disguise, and for a moment he looked… removed from the pressure he usually carried. There was a bounce to his step that hadn’t been there in weeks. Just a figure in a homely travel cloak, the breeze shifting the ends of his scarf.

It’s like the old saying goes; mens sana in corpore sano, meaning, a sound mind in a sound body. Perhaps this outing, however poorly constructed in theory, might serve its purpose. If he came back with a clearer head or the faintest lift in his spirit, it would be worth it. He had been through enough already these days.

“Felix,” you calmly said, gaze never once leaving Jeongin’s figure in the distance. “Make sure you protect the prince at all cost.”

He looked mildly amused by your order. With a small smirk and closed eyes, he dipped his head slightly. “Of course, miss. I’m happy to follow orders.”

With silent steps, he moved ahead to finish readying the horses.

You watched him go, then turned back to Jeongin, whose scarf had started to slip slightly. He reached up to adjust it again, then turned back to catch you staring. He let the scarf slip from his face entirely, revealing a smile that hit you with all the softness of spring after frost.

He deserved to smile like that. It didn’t belong to the people or the palace—it belonged to him. And it was worth protecting.

By the time you reached the city, the sky had overcast. 

You tilted your head upward, watching the clouds swirl thick and sullen overhead. The sun was long gone behind them and a gust of wind brushed past your cheeks, carrying with it the promise of rain. 

You let out a breath. If it rained, then the trip would be cut short. And that would be—no, there was no better word for it—disappointing. You could endure the downpour just fine, and would even welcome it. But Jeongin... your gaze shifted to him. It was him you worried about.

The three of you reached the city's stable just as a few stray droplets began to fall. Felix handed his mount to a stable boy without a word and disappeared into the blur of passersby before you could so much as call his name. On standby, no doubt. That left you with Jeongin alone.

He stood beside you now, scarf still wrapped around his lower face though the wind had tugged at its ends. He had his hood up. You watched as his eyes scanned the street ahead with the aching tenderness of someone trying to understand.

Jeongin slowly moved toward the open square, and you walked beside him, only a step behind, watching as his gaze took in the street vendors crouched beside fruit crates, the tired mothers herding children across puddled stone paths, the old man bent over fixing the wheel of a cart with tools far too rusted for the job. Shopkeepers greeted regulars with quiet nods, and the scent of rising bread and fruits drifted faintly from open windows.

The people here lived modestly, not poorly—never poorly. The roads were clean, lined with lanterns not yet lit, and though the buildings were modest, they were kept upright, each storefront tended with care. They had roofs over their heads, food on their tables, and warmth in the presence of one another. Still, Jeongin studied as if he saw more. He didn’t see faults, but possibilities and the room to do better.

And you could tell, in the way he breathed in this world—not removed from it, but trying to fit into its pattern, that he carried unwavering affection for these people; for his people. It was a love that asked nothing in return, a kind of devotion that came from wanting them to have more, simply because he believed they deserved it. His visits here were usually marked by obligation and escorted by officials, hardly ever getting the chance to talk to the people with the personal attention he wanted to give. But like this, in plain clothes and simpler boots, in a disguise, he had space to look deeper.

He looked at them as though he was trying to walk through the pages of their lives, each step taking in not just what was seen, but what was felt in their hardship, their perseverance, and their happiness.

He turned to you at some point, brown eyes still roaming the street as he spoke. “They’ve patched that roof three times this year,” he gestured toward a building with tarps weighed down by stones. “It still leaks when it storms.”

You followed his gaze. "You remember that?"

“I try to,” he replied. Then his gaze landed on a woman stacking clay pots at the corner of her home, sleeves rolled up, fingers chapped from work. “I never get to talk to them. Royal visits are all timing and ceremony. No one speaks the truth when you’re flanked by guards.”

You watched Jeongin with a faint exhale, the warmth of it rising and vanishing in the cooling air. Jeongin’s devotion to always think about the betterment of his people was perhaps also blinding him from the fact that he was already doing more than most rulers ever did. His people were not suffering, nor abandoned, nor left to fend for themselves. They were already pleased with everything he was doing. 

But all Jeongin could see were the gaps. The broken edges of a crate, a pothole along the main road, a cracked basin by a drinking well. It didn’t take long for you to notice how he failed to acknowledge what was thriving, always letting his good works fall into the shadows of what still needed doing as if they weren’t worth remembering. Tut, tut, that wouldn’t do.

“Your highness, come with me,” you said under your breath, brushing his gloved hand with your fingers briefly before stepping toward a fruit stall sheltered beneath a patchwork of canvas and rope. The elderly man was arranging fresh pears in careful rows behind it. 

“Good evening, mister Han.”

He looked up at the sound of your boots, squinting through the drizzle-spattered air. Then his eyes lit up, crinkling with a genuine fondness that could only be born from familiarity and gratitude.

“Ah, miss head pharmacist,” he said, voice gravelled with age. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today. You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

“A little lately,” you smiled, reaching for a few apples, “But never too busy to check in on my favorite fruit seller. How’s your granddaughter? Is the medicine I sent last week helping?”

“Like a miracle, I tell you,” he chuckled, leaning his elbows on the wooden counter. “That cough had her waking up in tears. Now, she’s been running circles around her mother again.” 

His eyes darted over your shoulder, landing on Jeongin. “And who’s this fellow with you? Looks strong. New knight?”

Jeongin stood behind you, hood casting a shadow across his scarf-covered face. He remained silent. Your fingers curled around his arm and tugged him forward. Tilting your head with a merry smile, you chirped, “Just someone helping carry the bags.”

You had to contain in a laugh when you felt the prince stiffen under your touch. He gave the older man a respectful bow, making him nod delightfully and caress his beard.

“How’s the business, mister Han?” You tilted your head meaningfully toward the crowd passing through the square.

“Couldn’t be better,” the man replied, beaming. “Traffic’s been strong since the southern road repairs. And we’re finally getting a good price at the market. Word is, the Crown’s efforts kept the tariffs low this season.”

“Ah, I see,” you said, tone light. You glanced at Jeongin, whose eyes flickered briefly toward the man, surprise brushing his features.

“Well, send my regards to your wife, Mister Han.”

The elderly man turned back to you, the smile on his face softening. “The missus still talks about that ointment you gave her last fall. Says her knees haven’t ached since. You always come when people need you most. Bless your heart.”

“Just doing my job.” You waved off the thanks with a gentle laugh. “Keep warm, mister Han. I’ll drop by again soon.”

With that promise, you continued down the path, Jeongin quietly falling into step beside you. He hadn’t said a word, but you could feel his thoughts turning. This is exactly what you wanted. You needed him to realize his people are happy because of him. You weaved through the marketplace with him, stopping next at a small stand of dried herbs and pressed powders.

A younger woman looked up from arranging labels and let out a surprised gasp. “Chief!” she squealed, practically beaming. “I didn’t know you were visiting today!”

“Not officially,” you said, glancing at the rows. “But I thought I’d check on you, Seena. How’s the business?”

“Oh, thriving! Thanks to your guidance, I started mixing that barley root tonic you suggested—it’s flying off the shelves!” Her pride was evident in the way she stood straighter with chest puffed and hands on hips. “Even the mayor asked for a jar last week.”

You nodded approvingly. “Told you it had potential. And your labelling’s improved. Any orders today?”

“Plenty! The demand’s high lately. Ever since the prince ordered the new trade permits, we’ve been sending our work across the river to Meras. It’s been a blessing.”

Jeongin’s eyes moved between the jars and the young woman’s animated face. Seena turned to him with a polite nod. “Is he one of the newer knights?” Her sudden attention made him stiff once again. Seena didn’t notice it though and continued speaking, “You’re in good hands, then. There’s no one in this kingdom more dependable than our head pharmacist. She even pulled my little brother out of fever two winters ago.”

Her words fell into the soft rhythm of the rain. Jeongin quietly took in you and the way you smiled back at the girl. With a few more words exchanged, you set off again.

Next, you approached a butcher’s stall under a faded red awning. The scent of smoked meat lingered in the petrichor air, and a woman stood behind the counter sharpening her knives on a whetstone.

“Morning, Jisu,” you greeted.

She startled, then broke into a wide grin. “You! You never come down this way without sending someone else to shop. What’s the occasion?”

“A little trip,” you said, opening your arms to embrace her giddily. “I wanted to see the city again for myself.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here. And if I might say—last month’s tonic did wonders for my husband. His lungs haven’t rattled once since. I don’t know what you mixed into that brew, but it worked better than anything we’ve had in years. He even managed the climb up to the north field yesterday.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said, touching her arm gently. “I remember how tired you looked when you first came to the infirmary. I had to make sure he got better—for your sake.”

She gave a huff of laughter and nudged your shoulder. “You’re far too good to us. The palace is lucky to have you.”

“Your stall seems fuller than usual today.” You glanced around at the neat racks.

“That’s thanks to the new storage cellars,” Jisu said, handing you a small sack of dried roots you’d asked for. “We lost so much meat last summer, but now with the prince’s plan to build them beneath the ridge, we’ve saved nearly a third of our stock. Can’t thank him enough.”

As she spoke, her eyes wandered past your shoulder to Jeongin, who stood just a step behind you, trying to look inconspicuous in his knight’s gear. Jisu squinted at him, then nudged your elbow with a grin tugging at her lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve found an apprentice.”

“Hardly,” you replied, your tone feigning indifference as your eyes flicked toward him. “But he’s here to learn a few things. He’s a promising knight.”

Jisu gave Jeongin a once-over with a raised brow and a small hum. “You keeping her safe, knight?”

Jeongin, momentarily caught off guard, took a heartbeat longer to respond. But when he did, he stepped forward with one hand flat over his chest, just above the embroidered crest sewn into the borrowed uniform—above his heart—and dipped his head.

“With my life,” he said, not as a declaration but as a vow.

The words carried more than promise. It was the purest version of the truth living in his chest—that if it ever came down to it, between his heart and your breath, he would always choose yours.

The three words, spoken in that tone, with that reverence, didn’t simply graze your skin—they settled into your bones, ran like fire through your veins, made your pulse race and every muscle freeze in place for the smallest flicker of time. It felt like every part of him was reaching for every part of you.

With my life. It translated too easily in your mind. I love you.

That’s what he meant. That’s what it was. You didn’t need him to say it in any other form, not when those words held everything. And for a fraction of a second, the world around you dulled, as though your body and your heart had leapt into another realm where only those three syllables mattered.

Your fingers twitched faintly at your side, and you blinked, dragging your attention back to Jisu with effort. You thanked her for the roots, asked about the upcoming seasonal shipment, slipped in a comment about how Jeongin—this knight—was curious about how trade routes were maintained through winter. And she, bless her, jumped back in with stories and charts and complaints about the main road’s incline. You answered, nodded, laughed in all the right places.

But somewhere inside, those three words stayed with you. As if every atom of your body had remembered them before your mind even had the chance.

While thoughts of him consumed your mind, thoughts of you consumed him shamelessly too. You had brought him around with the purpose to let him see with his own eyes the fruits of his labor, the improvements shaped by his hands though often carried out in his absence. But all Jeongin focused on was how the people looked at you.

Their faces transformed in your presence. They thanked you not just for your duties, but for the comfort and protection, for always showing up when they needed you. They didn’t merely bow or acknowledge you out of obligation; they welcomed you with their whole hearts, called your name like it held warmth in the middle of a long winter. Vendors offered you more than they sold. Children reached for your hand and smiled at you. Elders greeted you like kin. 

You made the distance between the palace and people smaller.

He could tell, without needing to ask, how deeply you were rooted in their lives, how much effort you put into being present not just as the kingdom’s head pharmacist but as a person they trusted. You had memorized their ailments, you put in the effort to remember their names, and the preferred herbs of every family. It wasn’t just duty for you—it was care.

And it overwhelmed him in the best way. If the people loved you like this—if they greeted you as one of their own, if they smiled without reservation, if your name passed through the streets like a blessing, then perhaps—Jeongin’s thoughts came to a slow halt, his eyes looking at your face as you smiled down at a child.

…then perhaps they would not mind having you as their future queen.

That wild unspoken hope settled deep in his chest with an ache that refused to be quieted. It made his hands itch with the desire to reach for yours in broad daylight. It made him imagine a world where his people would never have to choose between their loyalty to the crown and their affection for you. In that moment, he no longer saw you only as the woman he loved silently. You were more than an ally, more than a confidante, more than a friend. You were the person he wanted beside him through every decision, every triumph, every impossible day. He wanted you not in a title, but in every reality to walk beside him, to carry the weight of the crown with him, to rule the people not from above, but from within.

If there was anyone who deserved the love of this kingdom and the trust to guide its future, it was you.

After an hour of teasing and the occasional low grumble of thunder, the sky finally gave in. It didn’t take long for the rain to come pouring down in sheets, wind tugging at your cloak and sending market stalls into a mild frenzy. Fortunately, you had managed to finish your shopping by then, your satchel heavier with travel essentials, medicinal herbs, and Jeongin’s admittedly unnecessary second pouch of candied apricots. He was still chewing on them when the rain began to soak through his hood.

You had continued to wander long after the purchases were done, pulling him from one shop to another without a destination in mind, just so he could feel what it was like to be untethered. You watched him grow curious over clay trinkets and laugh when an elderly woman tried to haggle with you despite having already given you a discount. He paused in front of a stall selling old folktale scrolls and leaned in to read them, his eyes lighting up like a child’s. You even caught him smiling at nothing as he walked, the creases around his eyes soft, the usual heaviness in his steps gone for the first time in days.

It was sweet, almost unbearably so, to see a prince so entranced by mundanity. But when you turned to comment on it, you caught him inhaling an entire slice of honey cake in one bite, and any sentiment you were about to voice dissolved into an incredulous, choked laugh.

What wasn’t sweet, however, was the fact that the sky had now turned violent.

The wind picked up and with a hiss between your teeth, you reached instinctively for Jeongin. You had no idea what exposure like this could do to someone already afflicted by a root that drained their vitality by the hour. The last thing he needed was to catch a cold that might spiral into something worse.

Blinking the rain from your eye you stepped closer, reaching up to adjust his hood and tuck it securely around his head. But you stopped short when you saw him.

His face was tipped toward the sky, lips parted just slightly, raindrops catching on his lashes and sliding down his cheeks like silver streaks. Hood nearly slipping off, his dark hair clung damply to his forehead. The scarf had been pushed down to his chin, revealing the full line of his mouth, the rise and fall of his breath. For a moment he looked so serene that it made you forget what you were doing.

Your hands hovered near his shoulder. You were mesmerised, but couldn't stay so much longer; ever aware of the risk, you forced yourself to snap back to action, gaze darting to the surrounding streets. Thankfully, it was a more secluded area of the market. The locals had already retreated into their homes or shops, windows shuttered, stalls packed down in haste. There was no one left to notice the royal prince standing in the open.

“You ought to catch a cold like this.” You didn’t know why your voice softened, but it felt almost illegal to ruin the peace that surrounded him. Your fingers clumsily found the edge of his hood and pulled it over his head again. 

Jeongin blinked, turning to you slowly, like surfacing from somewhere far away. “I didn’t want to miss it,” he replied.

“Miss the rain?” you asked, tugging on the edge of his cloak to make sure it covered his back properly. “You see it all the time through the palace windows.”

“But I never feel it,” he said, pushing the scarf further down with one hand, then taking a breath so full it seemed to expand through his entire chest. “It feels so nice.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed, brushing wet hair out of your face as a gust of wind sent droplets flying from the rooftops. “You sound like someone who’s just been reborn.”

It wasn’t like he was discovering rain for the first time. He had been placed under the open skies plenty of times when he had to travel for diplomatic missions and royal visits to neighbouring kingdoms. But those had been different and always rushed. Right now, he had the liberty to simply enjoy the rain without a worry in the world and just be.

He chuckled, not looking at you just yet, but when he finally did look your way, there was a different kind of gentleness in his expression that hadn’t been there earlier.

"Maybe I have, a little," he whispered. Jeongin’s dimples greeted you as he smiled warmly.

You adjusted the satchel’s strap over your shoulder, trying to keep the fabric dry under the awning. Jeongin stepped in before you could shift it into a more comfortable position, his hand brushing yours as he took the satchel without a word as he slung it over his own shoulder. The gesture brought his face closer, and for a heartbeat, you caught the scent of chestnut and apricots.

Your gaze flicked away, scanning the alley again just to be sure you were still alone. Doors had been closed and curtains drawn. The storm gave you a world just for two.

Then, a spontaneous impulse seized you. You tilted your hand upward and let the rain collect in your palm, skin prickling from the cold. Jeongin watched you, his brows drawing slightly together, curiosity etched in the lines of his expression.

You stepped toward him with barely a beat of hesitation and splashed the pooled water across his cheek, dragging your hand in a light sweep. It wasn’t elegant. You smudged a bit of dirt too.

He flinched at the sensation, blinking hard. "Was that necessary?"

You grinned wider. "Absolutely."

A single drop of water clung to his jaw. He reached up slowly, not to wipe it, but to flick a spray of rainwater from his fingers straight at your forehead. It hit with a cold splatter, and you yelped, stumbling back with a half-laugh that broke into something louder.

His mouth curved, his brows lifted just a bit, and then he launched another flick of water in your direction. You retaliated, not with words but with movement. You darted to the side and scooped a handful of rain dropping from the awning, throwing it across his arm before turning to dash away. He gave chase without thinking, boots splashing through shallow puddles.

Before either of you realized it, you were both dashing through the puddles forming in the cobbled alley, slipping a little on the wet stone, laughing like fools as you swiped rain at each other, dripping wet and breathless.

Your feet skidded as you turned the corner of the alley. He followed, catching up for a second only to lose ground when you flung water toward him again with a victorious shout.

Your hair clung to your temples, his scarf was askew, and the clothes you wore had long since stopped protecting you from the cold. You darted between crates and barrels, breath catching in your chest, lungs aching with laughter, heart kicking wildly.

He turned a moment later and caught you mid-swipe, his hand briefly locking around your wrist before you both broke apart again, doubled over from the effort of running and the kind of laughter that hurt the stomach.

Jeongin, breathing hard and laughing, stepped back under the shallow eaves of a shuttered tailor shop, eyes still fixed on you. Your smile was wide and unguarded, your cheeks flushed, and your arms hung loose at your sides like you had no idea what to do with yourself next. For a second, you seemed to glow beneath the soft gray light and the curtain of rain.

And Jeongin, thought just one thing as the laughter bounced between the walls and nothing else demanded his attention:

I wanted us to laugh forever.

The narrow alleyway sat tucked between two buildings with no windows facing it, shrouding it in a kind of borrowed privacy. The world had receded completely in Jeongin’s mind, narrowed into the stretch of space between him and you, and then even that disappeared. You were speaking—he wasn’t sure what. Your hands swatted at the droplets still clinging to your sleeves, and laughter escaped you in breathy bursts, chest rising with each inhale. But all he could see was the way the rain shimmered against your skin, the way your mouth curved mid-sentence, and your gaze flicked toward him then away.

The distance vanished in a single step. His hands cradled your face, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheek where raindrops clung like dew. Damp strands slipping between his fingers as he pulled you in, lips crashing into yours. The cold of the storm dissolved into the feverish warmth between your mouths. You tasted rain and the ghost of honey cream, felt the tremor in his breath when you tilted your head, felt your spine press against the rough stone wall behind you when he stepped in even closer.

It wasn’t your first kiss with him and yet for a second, it felt like it was. Nothing existed except the feel of his mouth on yours and how terrifyingly good it felt to be wanted like that.

When he finally drew back, lips parted and breathing like he’d surfaced from underwater, your eyes were still half-closed. It took a second to find your footing again.

“What was that for?” you asked, your voice barely above the rain.

He stayed close, his breath fanning across your face, his hands still holding your cheeks as if they were sacred  and he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, the words hoarse and breathless, sounding like they’d forced their way out. “I don’t know how to look at you and not say it. How are you this beautiful?” His eyes searched yours, as if he’d never seen you until now. “It’s maddening.”

You stared back, mouth opening and closing with nothing useful coming out. Your face was burning hotter than the summer sun despite the cool downpour soaking you both to the bone. The heat pooled embarrassingly at your ears and crept down your neck.

“I—What—What am I supposed to say to that?” you stammered, blinking rapidly as if it might clear the pink from your cheeks.

He grinned, boyish and soft, his dimples deepening as if pleased that he’d gotten to you in the best way. Without pulling back, he leaned in, tilting his head forward until his nose brushed against yours, water dripping off the tip and sliding down your upper lip.

“You—”

“Your Highness.”

You startled so violently you nearly stepped on Jeongin’s foot. The both of you turned, and there he was—Felix—standing about three paces away with his hood drawn low. His expression was the same as ever, lips curled up in that small, angelic smile that somehow made the moment feel twice as awkward.

Your entire face combusted on the spot.

Jeongin, however, looked entirely unfazed, save for the faint twitch at his brow, which might have been irritation—or just resignation. He let out a slow breath through his nose and stepped half in front of you to shield you from further mortification.

Felix tilted his head, voice trained into calm oblivion. "I’ve arranged an inn for the night. Travelling in this storm would be risky. Best to rest and leave before dawn."

You raised both hands, almost clapping. “Woah. You’re actually so smart, Felix!” Your prior mortification entirely left your body, replaced by genuine awe at his thinking capacity.

His smile twitched. Not wider—just twitchier, like he had a lot of words and chose none of them. He looked at Jeongin and then back at you, and you could swear his expression read, You’re just now realizing this? Rude.

Jeongin didn’t say a word. He only turned to look at you, already tugging your hood back over your head like he was reclaiming your attention.

Felix cleared his throat.

Jeongin sighed, very softly, and gestured toward the end of the alley. “Let’s go.”

The inn was modest but well-kept, its wooden beams and tiled roof slick with rain that fell in slow, rhythmic sheets. A single lantern flickered above the entrance, its glow diffused by droplets clinging to the glass, casting a faint, amber hue over the damp steps. Felix approached first, his boots thudding against the stone path and hood still drawn low. Rain dripped steadily from the hem of his cloak and as he stepped onto the porch, he gave a brief shake of his shoulders, flinging droplets in a small arc behind him.

The innkeeper, a broad-shouldered man with a trimmed beard and weary eyes, perked up the moment he saw him. Recognition flitted across his face—then a deeper reverence took hold when his gaze moved to you. And then to Jeongin, who stood beside you still in disguise.

He bowed. “Welcome, Head Pharmacist,” he said, voice low but firm with gratitude. “An honour to host you. You’re safe here.”

You gave him a brief nod, water still dripping from your clothes, your arms loosely wrapped around yourself. Jeongin offered a polite bow as well, doing his best to stay in character, and you noticed the innkeeper’s glance linger on him for a second, as though trying to place him but nothing was said.

A young girl, perhaps no older than eleven, rushed in from a side door, her arms full with a stack of towels that threatened to topple with each step. Her eyes darted first to Felix, then to you, widening with awe. Her gaze skittered downward the moment she realized she was staring, and her cheeks turned a ruddy pink as she handed one to each of you. You accepted yours with a murmured thanks and pressed the soft fabric to your neck, relishing the dry warmth as you moved toward the fireplace.

The hearth burned bright, snapped and popped gently, and the scent of smoke wove between the worn tapestries and wooden beams above. You stepped closer, stretching your hands toward the heat, the ache in your fingertips finally dulling as they thawed.

Felix stood just off to the side with arms crossed loosely, letting his own towel hang from his shoulder; expression observant. He didn’t sit, didn’t move much, just kept track of every person who passed by. Occasionally, his eyes would flick toward you or Jeongin, but he made no move to interrupt the moment. The fire cast shadows across the floor, softening the edges of the room, and for a little while, there was nothing to do but breathe and dry off.

The innkeeper returned within minutes, bowing again. “The rooms are ready upstairs. Fresh bedding, and the windows sealed. Please rest as long as you need.”

You thanked him softly and looked over at Jeongin who had pulled the towel down from his head. He was facing away from everyone’s line of sight. His hair was still damp, dark strands curling slightly from the moisture, skin flushed with the heat of the fire. He met your gaze briefly before pulling the hood up, and you both followed the innkeeper up the narrow staircase, the wood creaking gently beneath your steps.

Felix followed last.

To your surprise, yours and jeongin’s rooms were connected by a door. You paused at the threshold, towel still in your hand, and glanced toward him. He stood near his own doorway, towel slung across his neck, one eyebrow lifted faintly in question. When your gaze flicked toward the connecting door, Jeongin gave a small shrug with one shoulder which meant he wasn't aware of this arrangement too. If anything, it meant Felix had arranged this himself.

Felix’s room was beside yours, though you doubted he’d use the bed that had been made up for him. He’d likely remain awake through the night pacing between shadows, posted near windows or doors and observing.

After the innkeeper left, Felix did another round of his solo investigation to make sure all three rooms were safe and secured—checking latches, opening shutters only to close them again, pressing a knuckle lightly against the walls to test for hollows, and running a glance across the seams where ceiling met beam. Only after he emerged and gave you a small tilt of his head did you finally step into your room.

A bath was prepared and you wasted no time washing yourself. The water was warm enough to coax a breath from your chest, and you let it pour over your shoulders and arms, lifting your hair away from your neck, allowing the heat to unknot every place where the cold had sunk in. The tension in your legs began to loosen, and you closed your eyes for a few seconds as you poured another ladle of water across your collarbone. Afterward, you dried yourself with the towel left behind and changed into the set of clothes provided by the inn.

There was a knock at your door. You turned your head as the door creaked open and the innkeeper’s daughter stepped inside. She clutched a small wicker basket in both hands, one foot shuffling forward as she glanced up at you.

"I came to collect your wet clothes," she said, her voice light and cautious, like she didn’t want to disturb more than necessary.

You gave her a small smile, stepping forward to meet her halfway. As you handed over your outer cloak and the damp bundle of your travel-worn garments, you reached out and gently ruffled her hair, watching the way she ducked her head with a shy smile. The grin stayed a second longer on her lips—until her eyes flicked curiously toward the closed door connecting your room to Jeongin’s.

Your gaze followed hers, and your smile froze. If she went in there, she’ll probably recognize he’s the prince. So you quickly turned back to her.

"Wait right outside the door, sweety," you said, patting her shoulder. "I’ll get the knight’s clothes for you."

She nodded and shuffled back out, leaving the basket at her feet as you turned and crossed the room in a few quick strides. You tapped your knuckles once against the connecting door before easing it open, the hinges groaning slightly. You peeked your head in, your words already forming—only to falter halfway through when your eyes caught sight of Jeongin’s bare back.

His head was turned away from you, an arm slightly raised as he ran a hand through his damp hair. The fire behind him cast soft light over the lean lines of his back, and you saw that he’d at least put on the trousers provided by the inn. When he heard the door, he turned slightly, startled but not startled enough to panic, and when he saw it was you, a small breath escaped him.

"Sorry," you whispered softly, smiling as you stepped further into the room, not bothering to look away. "The little girl is here. She’s collecting our wet clothes. I told her I’d bring yours."

Jeongin blinked at you in delayed understanding, then his eyes widened as the meaning settled in. "Ah—right, yes," he muttered, already moving.

He stumbled around the room in hurried steps, scanning for where he’d left his soaked uniform. He found the balled-up fabric beside the stool near the fireplace and grabbed it, holding it awkwardly in both hands as he turned back toward you. The tips of his ears were faintly pink from the heat, or perhaps the unexpected intrusion.

You reached out and took the bundle from him, letting your fingers brush his for a second. He gave a sheepish exhale, the apples of his cheekbones lifting when he smiled. But just as you were about to turn and leave, his hand reached for you again. 

His palm found the back of your head, and his fingers threaded through the damp strands slowly, almost reluctantly, evident that he wasn’t quite ready to let go. You felt the slight tremor in his touch. He dipped his head down until his lips met your forehead and he stayed like that for a heartbeat longer than necessary, like he was hoping the memory of it would keep you company until morning. When he finally pulled back, his hand still rested against your hair.

“Goodnight,” he said it softly.

You smiled up at him, brushing a stand of hair from his eyes. “Goodnight, Your Highness.”

You stepped back into your room, closing the door between you with a quiet click before crossing to the hallway where the girl waited. Once she’d collected both sets of clothes and disappeared down the hall, you drew the curtains shut and turned down the covers. The warmth from the hearth had reached the mattress enough that the sheets didn’t startle your skin when you slipped beneath them. You lay on your side for a while, unmoving, your eyes adjusting to the dim glow of the dying firelight.

The day replayed itself in pieces behind your eyes. You found yourself smiling to yourself when you remembered certain moments with him. As long as he had fun, nothing else mattered to you.

As the haze of sleep approached, the more pressing thought returned to you: the approval letter. The days ahead would not be simple but today had been a rare reprieve. It had given you space to breathe and that alone brought with it a steadiness you badly needed.

You turned onto your back, exhaling slowly, your thoughts narrowing to one last image before sleep claimed you completely: Jeongin, with crescent eyes disappearing, smiling at you like he didn’t know what to do with his happiness.

The smile that always showed up just before his deep dimples did.

True to Felix's word, you were stirred from sleep just before the faintest traces of dawn touched the sky. It was safer to travel back to the palace before the city stirred awake.

The innkeeper was already awake, as though he had never slept, standing near the door with a shawl wrapped loosely around his shoulders. He didn’t say much, only bowed his head respectfully when you approached. You offered him a murmur of thanks, voice still thick with sleep but sincere, and he nodded once before stepping aside to let you pass.

Outside, the air was crisp and damp, the sky still dark with only the faintest hint of blue creeping in from the horizon. Felix was already there near the city stable, standing beside the horses. The three of you rode out before the city stirred, the streets still quiet, the shutters closed tight against the night’s chill. The first blush of sunrise was breaking by the time the castle gates came into view. The guards at the outer post recognized Felix immediately and waved you through without question.

At the castle stable, where the scent of hay and dew-soaked earth still clung to the air, it became clear that the moment to part had come. Jeongin stood by his horse, the reins slack in his hand, the edge of his cloak fluttering faintly with the wind that rolled through the courtyard. When your eyes met, his gaze softened—there was a trace of reluctance there, the same one from the night before. It was beginning to become unbearable for him to not have you close to him all the time. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, slow and faint, and yours followed, just as real.

Felix left to speak to a stablehand and when he returned, he gave a slight bow. "I’ll escort him the rest of the way," he said, casting a glance toward Jeongin, who nodded faintly, adjusting the edge of his hood again.

The prince looked at you one last time before he stepped forward, and as he walked past, his hand brushed against yours. His pinky curled gently with yours, holding for a second longer than needed. 

“Get some extra rest before you go in,” he murmured, his voice pitched low enough that no one else would hear. The sound of it settled in your chest, and you gave him a small nod.

You watched as the two of them disappeared through the passage leading deeper into the palace. You waited until their silhouettes faded behind the stone archway before turning on your heel and making your way across the courtyard.

Instead of returning to your quarters, you took the east corridor leading to the infirmary. The hallway was still mostly empty, only the occasional servant passing by with a lowered gaze and a respectful nod. You crossed through the arch of the infirmary’s entrance just as the sky turned a pale silver.

Behind the central worktable stood Minho, already in uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hands deep in sorting the morning stock. He didn’t look up at first. That was just Minho. But when he did, it was a slow lift of the eyes followed by a slight double take, the shift in his brows giving him away even if the rest of him stayed unchanged.

“You’re back,” he said, tone devoid of life, one brow raised just slightly as he reached for another bundle of dried roots and set them aside. "Did the city treat you so well you considered not coming back?”

You dropped your satchel on the counter and rolled your shoulders out of habit, your voice still a touch hoarse from the cold morning air. “Good to see you too, Minho.”

He gave a small shake of his head, more to himself than to you, and gestured with his chin toward the stool on the other side of the table. “We got deliveries an hour ago. I sorted what I could, but half of it’s mislabeled. Thought you might want to handle the fun part.”

You looked over, eyes narrowing at the disorganized mess of dried petals and loose powder pouches. There was no way you were going to do all that right now. A small, exaggerated groan escaped from your lips like a tired child who was told to finish their chores. It drew the smallest twitch at the corner of Minho’s mouth.

He stepped around the table to reach for his coat that was draped over a chair. From its inner pocket, he retrieved an envelope and turned back toward you, holding it before you.

The second your eyes landed on it, your heart jolted as you stepped forward, fingers stretching out before your thoughts could even catch up. He didn’t need to tell you who was the sender. The seal alone told you enough. The envelope was stamped with the insignia of the Atharian Kingdom’s Apothecary Guild.

Your eyes grew comically wide when you looked at him. Minho gave a single, knowing nod.

"It’s already here?" you gasped, voice an octave higher than intended. "Oh my god—Minho, what if they rejected my request? What if they thought it was too vague or suspicious? What if they—"

Minho raised a hand. "Then we find another way to get the antidote," he said plainly, assuring you. "You panicking isn’t going to make them change their minds. But let’s read what they said first."

You nodded quickly, already fumbling with the seal, trying not to tear the paper in your rush. The edges slipped under your fingertips before giving way, and you unfolded the letter with both hands, scanning the page with sharp, bouncing eyes. Your lips moved but didn’t form words as you read it once. Then again. And a third time, just to be certain the words weren’t lying to you.

Accepted.

The Atharian Guild had approved your request. They would allow access to their archives and the text you’d been chasing—the one containing the antidote. The very foundation of the cure Jeongin needed was finally within reach.

You dropped down into the nearest chair as your knees gave in a little from the residual rush of adrenaline, the paper still clutched in your hand like it was your lifeline. Minho, observing your reaction, crossed the space slowly and plucked the letter from your fingers, scanning it for himself. He let out a breath of relief himself. 

The truth finally bled into your consciousness. Jeongin would be fine. Jeongin would be safe. He wouldn’t have to suffer nights after nights any longer.

You needed to find Chan.

The journey had to begin today.

The letter had been taken straight to Chan, who, upon confirming the contents of the acceptance invitation, wasted no time informing the queen. Her blessing arrived swiftly, and with it, the formal order that set everything in motion. Within an hour, Chan had assembled the team that would accompany you on the journey: five in total including you, with Captain Seo Changbin himself at the lead.

The departure was set for noon. That left you with only a handful of hours to prepare, though the way your thoughts spun and your body moved, it felt like the seconds slipped through your grasp faster than you could pin them down. In your quarters, you pulled together your journey bag carefully. Medical supplies first—gauze, ointments, antiseptics, small bottles of your own formulations. You packed water flasks and dry food you knew would hold for days, extra clothes folded in tight rolls, and your notebook to document the antidote’s research. You debated bringing the full medicinal index but chose instead to copy down the relevant entries.

Once packed, you moved briskly through the infirmary. You relayed specific duties to your coworkers and double-checked that the supply inventory was logged and marked for each day you’d be absent. You spoke with the apprentices as a group, instructing them on daily rounds and rotating care shifts. Lastly, you entrusted Minho with the final keys to your post. He would be acting Head Pharmacist while you were away. If there was one person you could entrust the role of head pharmacist to, it was him.

And though you were short on time, you made one final stop—across the eastern corridor, where the palace physician’s office sat. You stepped inside without knocking, voice already sharp with authority before he could speak. You made it perfectly clear that he was to be thorough with Jeongin’s care, that he was to make adjustments at the slightest discomfort, that he was not to take liberties or shortcuts, and that if you returned to find Jeongin’s condition worsened in any measure, he’d be answering directly to the queen. The physician nodded several times, and you waited until he repeated your instructions back to you, word for word, before you left.

Damn. That felt good.

By the time you returned to your office, there were only thirty minutes left until the journey team’s departure. Your travel bag leaned against your chair; a copy of the route, your clearance papers rested atop your desk. You paced for a few moments, then sat. Then stood again. Your eyes scanned everything one last time.

To say you weren’t nervous would’ve been a lie of incredible proportions. You had prepared for this—you were ready—but the skittish current beneath your skin betrayed the thoughts churning in your head. This was no longer just a theoretical quest or a wishful pursuit. This was real. The success of the antidote depended on you. Chan had once said the crown’s fate rested in your hands, and now, standing at the brink of it, those words weighed more than you could ever imagine.

Before you could spin further into your own thoughts, a knock sounded against the office door. You didn’t even get a chance to answer before the door creaked open halfway and Hyunjin’s head popped in, his hair still a bit damp and clinging to his neck in places from morning routine. His uniform jacket was thrown over one shoulder.

"It’s me," he said, stepping in fully taking in your startled expression with a snort.

Your face must’ve shifted in a dozen expressions in the span of a breath—brows drawn tight, eyes wide then squinting, and your lips wobbling between an awkward greeting and a groan. That made Hyunjin stop mid-step, one brow raised. The composure you’d managed to keep all morning unraveled in an instant. 

Before you could get a word in or the heat prickling at your waterline could spill into tears, Hyunjin crossed the room in three long strides, dropped his uniform jacket over your desk with absolutely no regard for the neatly arranged documents, and pulled you into a hug that was firm and warm and exactly what you needed. You sighed against his shoulder.

His hand skimmed the back of your head, then settled briefly between your shoulders while his chin came to rest atop your crown. After a while, he pulled back just enough to glance down at you, sniggering. "I sensed your mental breakdown all the way from the knight quarters."

You mumbled a weak protest into his chest, muffled but warm. "That obvious?"

"Painfully. I almost had to come charging in here with smelling salts and a fan," he replied, giving your back a single pat before nudging you toward the chairs.

Once settled across from you, he let his elbows rest on his thighs, expression more serious now. "I wish I could go with you," he said after a beat, the words were plain and frank. You realized he’d been chewing on it since morning. "If I did, I’d know for sure you’d be okay. Not that I don’t trust Changbin—I trust that guy more than I trust myself sometimes—but you’re... you know. You’re my sister. I’ll always worry.”

Your eyes softened at his words. Still your fingers busied themselves with tracing over stitching of your satchel you’d repaired months ago, lips pressing together like you were holding something back—fear, maybe, because this journey was indeed dangerous. 

"I’ll be fine," you held his gaze as you said it. "I’m strong, remember? Changbin will keep the road clear. And you—your duty’s here. I need you to stay and do your part."

He nodded, but you didn’t miss how he swallowed once before answering. You straightened your posture slightly.

"Swear to me," you added. "You’ll protect Jeongin."

Hyunjin didn’t hesitate to move his hand between you both, palm open and expectant. Your own slid into it automatically, the familiar shape of his fingers closing around yours in a single, brief squeeze that sealed the promise. That was just how it had always been. He didn’t need to embellish anything with sentiment. You felt it regardless.

Then his eyes drifted to your collar. "Is that new?" he asked, head tilting slightly, fingers lifting to gesture at your neck. "It’s beautiful."

Your hand rose reflexively, thumb brushing over the detailed edges of the plum blossom-shaped bolo tie. Your features softened, expression slipping out of focus for a second, lost in the memory. "Hmm? Oh. Jeongin gave it to me."

Hyunjin’s expression shifted in stages, so distinctly and with such lack of subtlety that it almost looked animated. The slow grin that unfurled on his lips pushed up his cheeks until they looked like they might cramp from the strain. His thoughts were spiraling into a victory dance. Oh. Oh, this is gold. That coward finally gave you the gift?

Hyunjin had half a mind to frame this moment—it was rare that life handed him such teasing perfect material without him lifting a finger.

"Is that so?" he drawled, dragging the syllables out like he wanted to savor each one. Nevertheless it sounded almost innocent, as if he hadn’t already drafted several ways to weaponize this knowledge for later use.

Still lost in your thoughts and the gentle focus on the bolo tie, you didn’t even notice the silence growing between you or register the way Hyunjin had stopped moving entirely to watch your face, soaking in your oblivious fondness. It was only when the quiet became too loud that your eyes flicked up, narrowed slightly, and met his.

"...You okay?"

His grin stretched further, bordering on smug. "I’ve never been better," he voiced breezily as he straightened up to his full height, tossing his jacket over his shoulder. "Speaking of which, he said he wishes to see you before your departure."

Your stomach did a flip, a shift in your heartbeat which was near-instant, even if you tried to pretend otherwise. Hyunjin slyly smirked when he noticed your obvious giddiness at the prince’s mention. You didn’t look at him when you spoke.

"Thanks for letting me know," you muttered, your voice sounding just a touch different now. It was like you were still descending from the realm between the present moment and whatever thoughts had leapt up at the mention of Jeongin.

Hyunjin turned without another word, pacing toward the door like he had somewhere better to be—which, technically, he didn’t, but it was the principle of the thing. And besides, there was no force on earth that would convince him to escort you to the prince’s office. Whatever was happening between you two now, whatever shifting emotions and atmosphere had been hovering there since you both came back from the town, it was not for him to breathe in. He’d probably choke on it then pass away. Disastrously.

The expression on his face must have said all of that and more, because before he could make it fully out the door, a pen came flying past his shoulder. He ducked easily, cackling like a madman that echoed down the corridor before disappearing.

You exhaled heavily with a huff, pressing your palm briefly against your forehead as you stepped around the last corner, already forming a mental list of all the ways you were going to make Hyunjin pay for the teasing he’d no doubt continue the second you returned.  He was going to get a handful, that much you promised yourself. But first, you had a prince to meet, who became the reason your heartbeat felt misplaced in your chest.

The guards you passed along the way dipped into deep bows, their gazes briefly meeting yours before darting back down, recognizing the gravity of your departure and the favor with which their prince regarded you. The nerves had started crawling up your spine again, those same nerves that had taken root the moment your departure was confirmed, and now they coiled tighter the closer you got to his door. You managed only one knock, barely a tap against the wood, before it swung open with a force and urgency that startled you—almost like he’d been counting down the minutes for your arrival.

Jeongin looked around quickly in the hallway—left, then right—confirming it was only you. Then, wordlessly he grasped your wrist, and in the same breath, he pulled you inside.

The moment the door shut closed, he embraced you in a hug so tight, it felt like he was trying to mold you into him. He hugged you like it physically hurt to let you go. His touch felt like he’d been counting the seconds until he could touch you again, and now that he had, he wasn’t going to waste a single one. His arms tightened around your waist until you could barely breathe, and his face buried itself into the curve of your neck, warm breath brushing over your skin. 

Despite leaving him only at sunrise, being apart for even a few hours had felt stretched and hollow, like your day had been missing its center. Was it truly this deep already—how much he meant to you? He wasn’t just someone you loved; he had become the constant your world turned around. And the rush that filled your chest from just laying eyes on him again—it struck you all over again, and you found yourself hoping, almost desperately, that it would never fade.

In his embrace, all your worries—those tangled thoughts of what lay ahead, of unfamiliar paths and the risks waiting there—unwinded all at once, because being held by him reminded you with a clarity that this journey, every uncertain step of it, was worth taking if it meant his well-being could be protected.

"Promise me you’ll be safe," he murmured against your neck, his voice raw in a way that made your chest tighten. You felt it all the way down to your bones. You responded by holding him closer, your fingers curling tighter at his back, and he drew in a shaky breath.

"Promise me you’ll get back to me."

His voice cracked at the end which he couldn’t smooth out no matter how hard he tried, and you felt it like a tremor through your chest. You closed your eyes, pressing your face into his shoulder, wishing, aching, hoping that time would stop just for a breath, that the walls around you would soften and bend to keep this moment inside your heart forever. Because no matter how far you were going, no matter how uncertain the road ahead was, he was the reason you’d return.

“Of course I’ll return to you,” you whispered back fondly. “Where else am I supposed to go? You’re my home.”

You do not use the word ‘home’ lightly because growing up you never had one. You’d never said it without some kind of defense braced around it, without some part of you waiting to be disappointed by the idea. So when you sigh it in the crook of his neck, you wanted him to feel that you meant every word.

He leaned back, but didn’t let go. His hands sought out yours and held them between his palms for a beat before guiding them to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of each. You were fond of this habit of his—one you’d come to expect—but that didn’t make it any less intimate. His lips lingered just a moment longer today.

“I know you’re brave. I know you’re capable. But please—for me—don’t risk more than you have to.” His eyes, intense yet filled to the brim with barely held together emotion, locked you in place in a shared ache.

"I will do what I need to," you replied, your voice softer than his but no less rooted in truth. You leaned in slightly, closing the distance that had crept up between your bodies again, pressing your forehead to his. You gave his hands a small squeeze. "What I must. You don’t have to worry too much. I don’t want you falling sick from it."

The faint smirk that followed was barely there, but it reached your voice when you added, "I’ve already traumatized the royal physician enough for one season."

That did it. His laugh cracked through the tension; it was soft but it was real. His dimples showed and you let yourself bask in the sound.

“I’ll see you at the gates,” he said at last once the laughter faded, voice dipping low again with affection so raw it almost didn’t sound like him. “But I wanted to see you here first. Like this. One last time.”

This time, it was you who closed the space between you, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in the side of his neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hands flattened against his back.

"I’ll come back to you," you whispered into his skin. "No matter what. I’ll come back to you."

Only a few within the palace walls knew the truth, and even fewer knew every detail. Because until it could be confirmed that there was indeed an intruder within the palace, any leak of information could prove dangerous. Worse, if found out that the intruder was not acting alone, and that a wider net of conspirators lurked beyond your sight then the risks extended beyond just the success of your mission—they bled into your safety, your life.

That thought alone had kept your nerves taut. Even now, as you stepped out onto the palace grounds and caught sight of the five horses standing in a line by the gates, your stomach refused to settle. Captain Changbin stood beside them, speaking with Chan in a low voice, one hand gesturing toward the map rolled under his arm.

You tilted your chin up and looked at the sky, a pale stretch of morning cloud scattered above the towers mirroring your scattered focus but it was Hyunjin’s hand on your shoulder that truly pulled you back into yourself. You met his gaze briefly and just the contact alone was enough to steady your breath.

The sound of approaching footsteps brought a tilt in the air. The guards straightened first, followed by the knights. You turned your head just in time to see the queen and Jeongin approaching from the inner courtyard. Conversations were cut mid-word as heads dipped, yours included. Even the horses stilled, as though sensing the presence of royalty. You stepped forward and positioned yourself beside Changbin, now directly in front of the royal family, hands folded before you as custom dictated.

The queen stepped toward your group and let her eyes pass over each member of the team. Then, she stopped before you.

"This journey will be remembered," she said in a tone laced with the kind of strength only mothers of monarchs seemed to possess. "Bring back what we’ve yet to find, and come back whole. You have my blessing."

She stepped toward Changbin next.

"Captain," she said, tone respectful, "keep them safe."

"You have my word, Your Majesty," Changbin replied with a hand to his chest.

You bowed deeply in return, murmuring your gratitude, then looked up, eyes briefly locking with Jeongin’s. His expression gave nothing away, and yours mirrored the same restraint.

Even if many of those around you already knew what lay between the two of you, today, you had to wear your titles before your hearts.

Jeongin stepped forward, stopping beside his mother. He brought a hand to his chest and bowed—the formal gesture of gratitude toward you and Captain Changbin for the undertaking you were about to begin.

“Each of you carry the hopes of this kingdom,” he said, placing a hand over his chest and bowing his head with solemn dignity. “I am indebted to your service—and I shall remember it always.”

No words passed between you afterwards, but it was a moment of recognition all the same. The attention of the group soon shifted again. The knights began their final checks, Chan took the map and moved to the side with the route team, and Changbin crossed the courtyard to go over the departure sequence. You stayed where you were for a moment longer, slipping into your abyss of thoughts.

Your eyes widened a fraction, your thoughts scattering before you managed to gather them again—because Jeongin had called you by your name. Not your formal title or the usual nicknames he’d grown fond of using. You had forgotten how startlingly intimate it felt to hear your name on his mouth.

You turned slightly toward him, letting your eyes scan the courtyard for any onlookers, but most people were focused on their tasks, and the queen had turned to speak with Chan. Nobody was watching. 

Jeongin brought his hand to his chest again, slower this time."If anything happens," he said, his eyes not moving from yours, "I’ll come find you."

He didn’t smile, and neither did you. Your throat tightened nevertheless. You managed a nod, slow and small. "I know," your voice was barely above a whisper.

That was his promise. If you couldn’t keep yours—he would keep his.

You turned toward your horse and with one swift movement, you mounted. Across from you, Changbin had already exchanged the traditional farewell salute with Chan, a brief clasp of arms and a few words you couldn't make out, and then swung up onto his own horse in a fluid motion.

Before the order to move out came, you let your eyes sweep one final time over the people who stood behind. There were guards and stable hands still tying gear, aides rushing to deliver scrolls and supplies, but your gaze skipped over them without pause. It caught and held on Hyunjin first, where he stood near the edge of the courtyard. When your eyes met, he gave you a nod. It said he’d watch everything until you returned.

Then your eyes found Jeongin. You smiled, small and determined, because that was all you could give in that moment. Changbin gave the final call to ride, you turned your horse and followed, hooves clicking against stone before finding rhythm in the dirt path that waited just beyond the gates. The courtyard began to fade behind you. 

A few hours after your departure, Jeongin was alone when Hyunjin found him.

The private practice quarters, tucked away behind the castle walls, were silent save for the sound of his breathing and the faint scrape of boots across the polished wooden floor. This place, set apart from the main training grounds, was rarely used unless discretion was needed.

Jeongin was mid-swing, the wooden training sword slicing through the air in a clean, controlled arc when he heard the door creak open. His grip tightened instinctively, but he didn’t turn.

"If you’re here to spar, give me a moment—"

A sudden whoosh of displaced air brushed his cheek.

Jeongin barely managed to tilt his head in time to dodge the wooden blade aimed straight at him. His brows shot up when he turned. Hyunjin stood a few paces away, one foot cocked lazily to the side, sword already lowered to a resting angle. A familiar shit-eating grin plastered on his face which was enough to provoke a fight on its own.

“Nice reflexes, Your Highness,” Hyunjin mused, tilting his head. He stepped forward slowly, his blade tapping lightly against Jeongin’s shoulder. "Then again, I’d expect nothing less from the man who is actively courting my little sister."

Jeongin’s hands faltered for a split second, his breath catching in his throat.

"...Hyunjin."

"Yes, my prince?"

Jeongin exhaled sharply, stepping back to create some distance, but Hyunjin merely followed, keeping his blade trained on him.

“I’m not doing this with you.”

"Oh, but we are doing this," Hyunjin replied smoothly, giving his sword a lazy twirl before settling into a low stance. "Because I need to decide whether I’m handing her over so easily."

Jeongin’s expression darkened. "She’s not yours to hand over."

Hyunjin shrugged. "No, she’s not. But she’s like a sister to me. And you—you’re like a brother." His eyes sharpened, the grin on his face thinning into something more calculated. “So you understand why I have to make sure you’re worthy, yeah? Prince or not. No hard feelings, Your Highness.”

Jeongin didn’t have time to get a word in because Hyunjin lunged.

The clash of their swords rang out in the stillness. Jeongin managed to block just in time, his body tensing against the impact. The force sent vibrations up his arm, but he held firm, stepping into the attack rather than away.

"Good," Hyunjin muttered between exchanges, his blade knocking against Jeongin’s with just enough pressure to test. His grin came back. "If you flinched, I’d have really reconsidered."

Jeongin rolled his eyes before pushing back with equal force. "You don’t own her."

"You’re right," Hyunjin conceded, sidestepping a swing with infuriating ease. "But she’s family."

Their swords struck again. Jeongin moved to block, then pivoted, but Hyunjin read him too well, matching pace for pace.Jeongi n was used to sparring with Hyunjin, but today there was a thread of personal intent running beneath each blow, a question being asked and answered with every clash.

“I would never hurt her,” Jeongin said, this time with more force behind both his words and the sword he drove forward. “You know it.”

Hyunjin met the blow and held it there for a beat. “Never?”

“Never,” Jeongin repeated.

Hyunjin stared at him, long enough that Jeongin’s grip twitched. Then Hyunjin changed his footing and dipped lower. Jeongin reacted too late. In one swift move, Hyunjin slipped inside his guard, placing the blunt side of the blade against Jeongin’s ribs.

Jeongin froze at the contact while Hyunjin merely snorted.

"Well, as your older brother in spirit, I’ll hold you to that."

He stepped back, spinning his sword in a flourish and resting it against his shoulder. He clapped his hand on Jeongin’s back before pulling him into a side hug. "I won’t go easy on you next time, though."

Jeongin let out a long breath and leveled him with a look. "You never go easy on me."

Hyunjin chortled, throwing his head back. "Alright, that's enough training for today. You need to rest, Your Highness, or she’ll behead me if she gets to know about this."

At your mention, Jeongin's mind slipped. It was too easy for it to go there—wondering where you were now, if you’d managed to eat something warm, if the roads were rough beneath the horses’ hooves. It had only been a few hours, and already it felt like a gap had cracked open in his chest. He could only hope Changbin had found a safe place for the team to stop for the night. You hated the cold, hated riding in the dark. He could only hope you weren’t having a hard time and pulled the towel across his neck, blinking sweat from his lashes as they stepped into the corridor.

Hyunjin was already back to grumbling. "You still drop your guard too often on your left," he said, pointing an accusing finger toward Jeongin as he adjusted the wrap on his forearm. "One of these days, I'm going to make you eat dirt for it."

Jeongin’s response came with a tired roll of his eyes as he dragged the towel along the side of his face. "You sound like Chan. It's unsettling."

"Take it as a compliment. I only repeat the wise ones," Hyunjin hummed, stretching his arms behind his head.

They turned the corner, walking side by side beneath flickering sconces that bathed the stone corridor in patches of uneven gold. Jeongin was half-turned, already lifting his chin to reply when—

Whoosh! 

—Hyunjin’s sword drawn in one smooth arc and a loud snap filled the corridor as the arrow met steel. The broken shaft skidded across the floor with a dull scrape.

Jeongin’s heart kicked hard in his chest. He unsheathed his own sword before falling into a fighting stance beside Hyunjin, scanning the edges of the corridor with sharpened eyes. Hyunjin muttered something, low and fast, already stepping slightly in front.

“Down!” Hyunjin shouted.

Another volley whistled in from the opposite direction. Two blades intercepted the second volley, sending fragments scattering across the corridor tiles. Felix landed from the shadows near the corridor’s edge, twin daggers glinting under the torchlight.

Hyunjin barely glanced at him. "You're late."

Felix didn’t bother to respond, already crouched low as his eyes swept the high arches and narrow ledges.“Two. One on the left rooftops. Might be another across the inner ledge.”

Jeongin adjusted his grip on the sword and stepped forward, but Hyunjin moved immediately, arm barring his path.

"We move," Hyunjin said, not looking at him. "They picked this corridor for a reason."

The sound of another arrow whizzing through the air caught their ears. Felix caught it mid-turn, one of his blades rising without even needing a second glance. It hit the floor near Jeongin's boots, the head gleaming faintly with a thin coat of liquid.

Felix frowned, stepping forward as he flicked one of the arrowheads up with the tip of his dagger. It spun, catching the light before landing in his palm. “Arrowheads are coated,” he cursed under his breath, throwing it away. “Don't let it scratch you. Your Highness, stay out of this!”

"I’m not leaving you to fight alone," Jeongin snapped, already stepping closer.

"You’re not leaving," Hyunjin snapped back, not sparing him a glance as he gripped his shoulder and shoved him back toward the wall. "You’re staying put. Guards! To the prince!"

His thunderous voice echoed down the corridor and footsteps rushed in from around the bend, armored soldiers appearing and forming a protective line around Jeongin as Hyunjin pushed him behind the first row. The knight grabbed one of the guard’s arms before commanding, "Find Commander Chan. Move!"

He launched upward, propelling himself off the wall and climbing toward the rafters. His blades caught the light as he twisted through midair and launched himself toward the higher ledge.  A shout rang out, followed by the scrape of metal, and then the sound of someone falling, crashing hard against the stones.

Hyunjin turned, eyes darting. One of the attackers had dropped low, retreating into the adjoining hall. His boots barely made sound against the stone, but Hyunjin spotted him just in time.

"Watch him," Hyunjin growled at the guards, then sprinted after the second figure. He caught up just as Felix drove one blade down into the stone floor to pin the first assassin’s hand, making the man let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The second assailant swung wide with twin daggers. Hyunjin ducked the first strike and drove his elbow into the man's side, forcing a grunt as air rushed from his lungs. He twisted, dragging his sword upward in a sharp, brutal arc that cut through fabric and flesh across the attacker’s thigh. The man stumbled, teeth clenched, but still raised his weapons again.

They pressed forward together—Hyunjin drawing focus with clean, sharp blocks and strong counterblows, Felix weaving past them to strike from tighter angles. The one whose hand got impaled earlier fell with a cry, his shoulder torn open. The other lunged at Hyunjin with a short sword held in reverse, but Felix caught his wrist from behind, twisted it, and slammed his face into the wall. There was a sickening crunch.

The subdued assassin froze, watching his partner fall limply against the wall. He hissed through gritted teeth before opening his mouth. Felix’s keen eyes caught it immediately. Without hesitation, he struck upward with the hilt of his dagger, the crack of bone echoing as the assassin’s jaw dislocated with a choked scream.

 “Cyanide capsule,” Felix said under his breath, fingers digging into the man’s mouth to retrieve the small hidden pill now dislodged from under his tongue. He threw it to the ground.

Felix didn’t give him the chance. His arm moved fast—dagger hilt rising and slamming into the side of the man’s jaw. The force cracked bone and forced the assassin’s head to snap back. He choked on his own scream.

A deadly silence pressed in, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the shuffle of approaching boots. Jeongin stepped through the corridor, moving past the guard line. His eyes were drawn to the two bodies—alive but bloodied, restrained and no longer a threat. His stoic expression didn’t change, but there was adrenaline coursing through his veins. He kept walking until he was near Hyunjin and Felix, trying to ground the spinning thoughts in his head, but all he felt was a throb behind his eyes and the thrum of his heartbeat pounding fast and disoriented.

Someone really set out to kill him and they were desperate.

Behind him Chan arrived just then, eyes catching on the scene in a single glance. "Tie them up," he ordered. "Now."

There was a moment of stillness, like the hall itself was processing what had just occurred. Then the guards leapt to action, ropes pulled taut and swords pointed low as the two intruders were restrained. The first was near unconscious. The second, jaw hanging at a painful angle, didn’t dare move.

Felix stepped back, gaze fixed downward. Hyunjin remained near Jeongin, catching his breath, sweat dripping from his temple. Jeongin hadn’t said a word. No words passed between the three of them as the hallway settled back into tense, humming silence.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Taglist; @xylatox @starrynightgyu @lilithwii @babigriin @sillygoosegoose @danidontpls @seherinc @maddy24207 @nanalover240 @sansysan @saccharinezennie

[daisyofwaterdeep]

Magical Intrusion | Chapter 1

!NSFW! male companions x cisfem reader This chapter contains: Gale Dekarios, sexual fantasies

Gale tries to create some magical relief for his lonely nights

~~~

Everything is in place. Gale turns the padded sleeve in his hands, tugging at the seams that close it off at about 7 inches, then turning it again to inspect the entrance, padded fuller to the point of stiffness. He delves two fingers in, pleased with the water repellent spell he had cast on the silk lining. Everything seems to be in order.

Now, the tricky part.

He had been tinkering with the set of spells for the past several tenday, to various degrees of success. But now, Gale feels that they're ready to be put to proper action.

A warming enchantment goes first, and works perfectly. A water creation spell now, with a few tweaks that makes the liquid more oiled and viscous. That goes well also.

Gale stops for a moment, heart hammering and mouth far too dry. This last charm is far more complex than the other two, and far more likely to go awry. He has to do this perfectly, elst the rest of his work will have been for naught. It had taken him nearly the whole trip to get the supplies he needed, and he doesn't know if he has the heart to start again if this goes wrong.

He takes a deep breath and places his hands over the makeshift sleeve as he begins reciting the enchantment. A blue light spreads in his finger tips and transfers to the material, casting a faint glow. He pictures in his mind a fantasy that he's harbored ever since he met you, leaving no lurid detail unthought. The grip of your cunt, the flutter of it, how it would feel and taste and smell. He channels all of his desire into the object, your name chanting in his head as he feels volatile energy start to crackle at his fingertips.

Gale?

Your voice cuts through his thoughts and at first he thinks he's manifested it, but then he feels the familiar prodding of another mind against his. The spell in his hands dies out instantly, afterimages of the blue light dancing in his now dark vision. He quickly shuts his mind to you, shooting back his own mental words.

Is something the matter?

No, I just thought I heard you say my name.

Gale wipes a bead of perspiration from his forehead, trying not to let his panic consume him.

Through the tadpole?

No, through your tent.

Oh gods, how embarrassing. With you being his camping neighbor, he should have been more cautious....He thinks quickly on how to rectify the situation.

My apologies. I was reading a rather engaging book...I suppose I may have muttered a few words out loud.

I figured as much. Just wanted to be sure.

Of course. Do try to get some rest.

You as well. See you in the morning.

He feels your presence slip from his mind, and only then does he allow himself to breathe--quietly, of course, so as you don't hear him struggling from your laying spot nearby.

The enchantment...he has no idea if it was a success or not, and he's not brave enough to light a candle and see if it did, rattled as he is.

With his heart still beating too fast for comfort, Gale takes the sleeve and tucks it securely into his pack before laying out on his bedroll.

He'll have to wait until tomorrow to see if his hard work has produced any fruit. At the very least, it'll give him a chance to set up camp a bit farther from the rest of his companions.

Gale has waited this long to try out his little contraption....waiting one day more will be easy.

NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: this is just a short set up, all the real juicy stuff will be in the next chapter ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ (shoutout to anyone who knows where this is goingggggg)

[strangelittlestories]

"Promise me, Matthew."

"I promise." His voice felt frayed in his sulphur-scratched throat.

"I need to hear you say the bloody words." Paul looked at him with big, bloodshot eyes.

Matthew sighed as he tried to find some words he hadn't tainted with broken promises.

"I promise, my love, after this ... no more deals. No more books or bells. No more screams in the night or brimstone kisses." He let his voice crack just a little more. "Just you. From now on: it'll just be us."

He was sure that, this time, he meant it.

"Well, I'm not waiting." Paul's lip trembled, but he looked Matthew dead in the eyes. "If you mean it, meet me on the bridge. You know which one."

Paul kissed him hard enough to draw blood. Then he was gone.

---

As Matthew drew the circle, enjoying the feel of chalk grinding against the tarmac of the crossroads, he imagined Paul on Embankment Bridge.

It was where they'd met for their first date. Matthew had weaved in and out of the sightseers and commuters, buffeted by the human currents, cursing the idiot who'd wanted to meet in tourist-town.

Then he saw Paul and it was like there was no-one else there.

"I like the feeling of potential" Paul had said, "when you look out at the city's lights and you know it's just waiting for you to unwrap. It makes me feel a bit like a king of my own private London."

He had smiled daftly then, gawkish demeanour at odds with his words.

Matthew would have followed him anywhere in that moment.

At the end of that night, Matthew had an incubus summon Paul a rose that would never wilt. And Paul kissed Matthew so softly it like brushing lips with the wind.

This was back when Matthew thought summoning circles were a party trick and magic was a thing to wonder at.

He laughed bitterly as he finished the latest circle.

It surprised him as he did so to realise that he truly did intend this to be the last. He thought of going to meet Paul on the bridge and he smiled.

Then he began the chanting.

---

The demon's smile was a mouthful of cut glass.

"Ah, Matthew, still fighting the good fight?" It did not so much speak as twist the wind into shapes like sound. "How can I assist tonight?"

"I need a life."

"Ooh - any in particular you wish me to take? A politician? A rival sorceror?" The air between them began to burn.

"You misunderstand." Matthew kept his voice level, trying not to choke on the smoke. "I need a life *back*. A friend lost to her bravery and my stupidity."

"Oooooh, Matty, your guilt is delectable." The demon licked its lips with its razorblade tongue. "For this I shall require ... a memory."

Matthew strangled the laugh in his throat.

"A memory? Fine. Great. Take it. All my memories are awful."

The demon's smile was as wide as longing.

---

When Matthew woke, he had a vague memory that he was supposed to be somewhere.

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs.

A bridge, maybe? He couldn't recall which.

Deciding it couldn't have been that important, he gathered up his supplies and went to meet Sophia. She would, after all, be somewhat confused as she crawled out of her grave.

And it was time for them to get back to the work of bell and book and candle.

---

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[sweetiiii]

Woman.

!Loser Toru oikawa x!Bimbo Fem reader

!warnings; RAUNCHY. just basically filth !porn with little to no plot, !afab reader,!cunnilingus, oral!f receiving,!i cant spell, !penetrative sex, !unprotected sex !reader is a bimbo,!drunk sex, !mentions of alcohol use, !mentions of marijuana use, reader is implied to be hooking up with Atsumu, !degrading,! praising,! cock drunk reader

authors notes: loser oikawa brainrot is real. need him so bad its not okay anymore T-T, i got inspo when i was on call with my pookie bear brainstorming and we were listening to songs and woman by harry styles started playing..and here we are! THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD, i was proofreading it then i got lazy ;p. this is my first time actually writing smut so it might be a bit choppy..soz!!!!enjoyyy!!!

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Oikawa has always been a little genius, hes always been the top of his class but somehow was never lucky enough to get noticed by girls. Not until his second puberty that was which might i add only came in the middle of his second year of college.

Oikawa decided to pick astronomy as an elective and almost creamed his pants when he saw you walk through those doors. hair down and in the sexiest baby blue tracksuit he had ever seen. your makeup was on point and he couldn't help but throb a little when you batted those pretty eyelashes at him while blowing a bubble with your gum.

"Do you have a spare pencil? i think i dropped mine in the hallway" a sickly sweet smile on your face. if he could he would have gave you every last pencil he owned.

oikawa,who spends every class barely paying the professor any attention, spending a solid 80% of the class staring at you hoping you'd ask him for litterally anything . and i mean anything. a pen, a sheet of paper, the world, anything you wanted he'd give it too you.

after 4 weeks of taking that class,oikawa finally worked up the courage to finally introduce himself to you and he died right there when you smiled and told him your name. that sent him over the edge.

Loser!Oikawa who proceeded to go back to his dorm (thanking the stars his roomate wasnt home) and fist his cock to the image of your pretty little mouth wrapped around him, chanting your name like a mantra. he has never came so much in his life.

Loser!Oikawa who was so happy when you started sitting beside him in classes making small talk with him. Astronomy soon became the highlight of his week.

Loser!Oikawa who noticed how the fattest pout on your glossy lips when the professor handed back your most recent midterms at the end of class.

"Is everything okay?"

"No i am so failing this class if i do it'll throw off my entire grade for this year and ill have to repeat" you sounded to sad on the brink of tears. he throbbed.

"Hey i'm sure you didnt even do that bad, it was a pretty hard exam to be fair.."

"I guess.., what did you get anyways?"

Shit. He could easily lie and tell you he got an unbelievably low score, but both of you knew it wasnt possible for him to score lower then 97.

"...98%"

"..."

He sat there with the silence hanging in the room.

"Oikawa."

Uh oh.

Loser!Oikawa who's eyes almost popped out of his head when you basically threw yourself at him begging him to tutor you. and how could he say no? he almost moaned when you gave him the biggest hug known to man and he could feel your tits pushed right up against his chest.

Loser!Oikawa who spent the next couple of weeks tutoring you in between classes. You slightly picked up on the crush Toru had on you unbeknownst to him of course. You two had grown so close in those weeks. So much so that you invited him to your part to kick off spring break.

"If i pass this class, No WHEN i pass this class you just have to come Toru"

His name sounded so good out of your mouth. He wondered how much better it would sound if he was fucking you.

" I don't know [Name] i'm not exactly close to anyone you know and i don't want to ruin you night by clinging to you the whole night"

He was lying. Of course he wanted to go but he also knew how much of a soical butterfly you are and he would inevitably be left in a corner with some drunk couple dry humping beside him.

"I pinky promise you'll have fun, trust me."

So that.s how Loser!Oikawa found himself in front of your door two hours after the party had started. You did in fact pass your exam. He knocked at the door waiting a few minutes for it to open. just as he was about to turn around and go home, you opened the door smiling so brightly once you saw him standing there.

" TORU OH MY GOD I.M SO HAPPY YOUR HERE!" you were clearly drunk and maybe a little bit high evident by your low glossy red eyes.

"Yep! i almost wasn't gonna come but you did make me a promise..so here i am!" you giggled the most angelic thing hes ever heard. as he trailed behind you to the kitchen he couldn't help but stare and your figure in the dress you were wearing. it was teal-ish and barley covered your ass. it had a halter neck which you had the remaining fabric tied in a pretty bow. he wanted so badly to rip the garment off you.

Loser!Oikawa who after being forced to do a round of shots 'catch up' as you called it, stood in the kitchen smiling to himself as he watched you squeal with excitement as you heard you’re ‘fav song’ play. You’ve said that about the last 7 songs.

Loser!Oikawa who watches you run to the center of the living room screaming the lyrics to the song. swaying your hips to the sensual beat he watches as other bodies join you, mostly pairs, to sway and grind with each other. he softly sang along getting more buzzed from the liquid courage.

All was well until he showed up. Some random dude who came up behind you slowly wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you close. Toru was seething as he watched this guy whisper in your ear making you giggle that infectious laugh that he wished was reserved for only him.

'I hope you can see the state that i'm in, while hes touching your skin'

The longer the scene unfolded in front of him, the more he felt his body tingle with jealousy. He felt like a child being forced to share when he wanted to keep you to himself. Hes selfish, and hes fully aware of that.

'He's right where I should, where I should be...'

Downing the last of his drink, he stood there throwing daggers at the pair. He was angry, but not at you. he could never be angry at you. As the song finished and you made your way back over to the kitchen, New toy boy in tow, Toru felt his body act on its own.

He made his way over to where you were standing too entranced in the other man, who he soon came to learn as Miya Atsumu, to notice his presence behind you. Not until you turned your head to the side while Miya was planting kisses up the side of your neck that you noticed Oikawa.

The energy of the situation shifted drastically once you realized who loomed over you. You weren't sure if it was all the alcohol or even the weed you smoked but Oikawa looked so unbelievably sexy right now. I mean he's always been so sexy too you with him being such a dork. It always turned you on slightly and when he'd stretch you got to see how built he really was. But right now? You wanted him to fuck you ASAP. his glasses had long been discarded. his hair was slightly disheveled and he looked pissed. You wanted him bad.

"Oikawa! whats up babe? you enjoying the party?"

He didn't respond just slightly nodding his head.

"Well dude if you don't mind were kinda in the middle of something right now, so..."

This time the blonde spoke. and that sent Oikawa over the edge. He grabbed your hand and stormed away dragging you behind him. You were yelling at him to slow down for a second finding it hard to keep up with his long strides. He couldn't hear you though. his ears were ringing and everything became muffled.

When he entered you bedroom he slammed the door behind him leaving you standing there eyes wide in shock. This was NOT your Toru Oikawa. you've always known toru to be soft and patience and overall kind of a push over. But the man standing in front of you was none of those things.

"Oikawa What the actual fuck is going on?! why did you-" before you could even finish your sentence you were stopped by Toru's mouth on yours. moaning softly into the rough kiss you wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him closer. your whole body burning up with lust.

As the kissing became even more intense you pulled away smiling at the brunette who was looking at you with blown out pupils.

“Get on the bed.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Get on the bed.”

You have never seen him being so commanding before. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. In fact this was the most turned on you’ve ever been.

Doing as he said you made your way onto the bed sitting on your knees waiting for him to come over to you.

grabbing a your hair and yanking it slightly to pull your head to the side he began attacking your neck, Leaving a trail of purple marks to bloom in his wake.

“You think you’re so cute slutting yourself out like that huh? letting other men grab you and touch you hm?”

not trusting yourself to speak you just moaned in response.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that. To dance with you and kiss you? i bet you don’t because all you care about is getting your holes stuffed don’t ya?”

He was being so mean and yet you could feel yourself getting wetter with each new insult he threw your way. Making his way back up to you he grabbed your face forcing you to look at him. His cock throbbing as he saw the fat tears well in your eyes.

“Poor baby’s crying now. You didn’t mean it did you baby?”

“N-no Toru, just wanted to make you jealous is all” you mewled out. tears falling and staining your pretty face. you weren’t crying because of him being mean. you were crying because you were so incredibly horny and he wasn’t doing anything to help.

As if he read your mind he began to kiss you again letting his hands roam around your body until they reached close to where you ached for him the most.

while his hands slowly scaled your thighs you moaned as he inches closer to your core.

“Toru please”

“What is it baby what do you want?”

“Want you to touch me, please i promise i won’t go near Atsumu anymore just please touch me”

he was so done for.

He had fantasized about you moaning and begging for him for so long he never expected for it to actually happen.

humming in response he decided to be nice and give you what you wanted.

“lie down baby, i’ll make you feel good. promise.”

doing as he said you laid down on the bed staring up at your ceiling in anticipation while he parted your legs. pulling your panties to the side he moaned at the sight of your cunt.

“so fucking pretty” he mumbled to himself. as you raised your head to try listen to what he said, he dove right in. licking a bold stripe up your center that had your head falling back and the most pornographic moan leaving your mouth.

as he continued to work his skill full mouth against your core you were lost in a world of ecstasy. Oikawa found himself rutting against the edge of the bed, his dick growing harder as you continued to moan his name. It’s like all his birthdays came at once.

“Toru please please please i’m gonna cum please don’t stop, oh my god” blabbering incoherent words to a pussy drunk Toru only drove him to bring you over the edge.

slipping in two of his fingers to replace his tongue that he now focused on your clit, lapping up every single drop of you not letting you go to waste.

“You taste so good baby, So fucking sweet, you’ve got the prettiest pussy you know that yeah?. she’s so fucking wet for me”

Now he was blabbering. The vibrations of his voice is what made you cum. and hard.

Riding out your high on his face Toru still kept lapping you up even in your overstimulated state. It wasn’t until you forcefully had to lift his head up that he stopped.

“Toru is too much,i want you in me please need your cock so badly” you managed to squeeze out in between moans. surely the whole party has heard how desperate you sound now.

“Yeah? I dunno baby i don’t think you deserve it after the stunt you pulled earlier. Why don’t you beg for it angel?”

You did just that. Pleading with the lanky brunette to “Stuff you full of his cock”. Fat tears falling from your eyes as you beg with such desperation, the lust in your body physically hurting, the only cure being Oikawas touch burning in its place.

After what felt like an eternity he finally shushed you with a kiss so gentle you almost missed it.

“Awh i think you’ve apologized enough sweetheart, lay down for me. let me make you feel all better~/.” he whispered in your ear as he guided your back gently to the bed, positioning himself in between your legs with your ankles resting on his shoulders. Lining himself up with your entrance you both took a sharp breath as he pushed in.

Toru swears he could have came right there from how warm and soft your insides were. Bottoming out fully you both moaned in ecstasy. The stretch from how big Oikawas cock was, was enough to make your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Ru, please move please, need to feel you fuck me so hard please” as you pleaded some more, toru could feel his cock get unbelievably harder.

Pushing your knees closer to your chest, Oikawa continued to drill his cock deep into your cunny. Hitting that soft spot that made your eyes roll back further and your mouth drop into a soft 'O' shape. He marvel in your moans as your tits bounced around.

"Whats wrong baby? going too deep?" he asked, false concern dripping in his voice. All you could do is whine is response, not trusting your voice quiet yet, He could get used to seeing you like this. Hair splayed out across your pillow, eyes brimming with fat tears threatening to fall. You were so cock drunk he'd be surprised if you even remembered your own name at this point.

Chanting his name like a mantra, you began to claw at his biceps your body warning him of your approaching orgasm before your mouth can even catch up.

"T-Toru please right there, so close, 'm so close,fuck, wanna cum, need to cum all over your cock please please-" you didn't even know if your sentences were even making sense at this point but you didn't even care, only caring about being able to finish.

"Yeah? go on then baby, shittt-cum all over my cock."

Like a devote follower listening to her god, you did just that. the most intense orgasm ripped through your body ass your whole body shook, back ripping off the bed in a high arch as you clung onto Oikawa for dear life, who continued to fuck you through your mind numbing climax to reach his own which followed not long after.

Moaning and whimpering in your ear, Toru came with his head buried in the nook of your neck, biting down on the sweet spot that connected your neck and shoulder to try and cover his own pathetic moans. Now it was his turn for his body to shake as he filled you up with his load, not wanting a single drop to go to waste.

after a few beats of silence with the two of you just trying to catch your breath, the brunette lifted his head from its place in the nook of your neck and spoke first.

"Are you okay? i didn't go to far did i? im sorry i dont know what came over me i just saw you with Miya and-"

Before he could continue to blabber on you shut him up. planting a slopping kiss on his lips which he graciously returned, as the kiss once again became more heated the door burst open to reveal a drunk and most definitely pissed Atsumu Miya.

"What. the. fuck."

A/N: i’m posting this again nothing has changed but i was going to redo it then i gave up! oops!

[etheries1015]

Hello can I request a fluffy fic about how Jack would interact tereact their s/o while he’s using his unique magic? I hope it’s not too weird of a request

Its not weird at all! I actually think this concept is super cute 😭 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like it <3

Jack seldom used his unique magic, save for the times he desperately needed to. It took a lot of energy to maintain his wolf form, and it wasn't a very common type of magic, either. That didnt stop you from asking him to, and I quote, "Turn into the fluffy wolf again!!!" Wanting to preserve his magic (and avoid becoming your play thing...) He would find an excuse each time to gently refuse your insistent prodding.

There was one particular day though, one in which you found yourself deep in a hole of...well, stress. It was a rather difficult day, to say the least. Being the only non magic wielding student at an all-magic school, there were bound to be times you felt to be at an extreme disadvantage. You must had forgotten you chose this day to study with Jack, for when he attempted to find you in the library where you had chosen to meet, you were nowhere to be found.

Finding you crying in the garden of ramshackle was the last thing he thought you would be doing. You were huddled up in an abandoned corner of wilted flowers, hugging your knees to press against your chest as your body trembled with sadness. You heard someone approaching you, yet avoided their gaze in fear of embarrassing yourself further with tears to simply add to your "pathetic feats" of the day. You heard a gentle and familiar sigh, Jack dropping his bag and bending over to meet your eyeline.

"Rough day, I heard," Jack rubbed the back of his neck, "Do you... want to talk about it?" Shaking your head, Jack pursed his lips. He never particularly felt as if he were good at comforting people, for his actions always seemed to speak louder than his words. He wasn't used to seeing your smile fade like the wilted flowers, or hearing muffled cries escape your typically optimistic mouth. Thats when it clicked in him, the one thing he felt would be able to cheer you up...he hoped.

You heard rustling sounds before the familiar sound of magic casting, head flicking up in time to hear his chant and watch Jacks form morph into that of a great wolf with long untouched white fur. You let out a gasp of surprise as a smile quickly took over your face, Jack utilizing his now wolf form to nuzzle your cheek against his own. You opened your arms to hug him, petting the silky fur that you only dreamed of being able to pet.

"Get on," Jack encouraged, "I wanna show you something." You double checked if he was certain he would be alright with you upon his back, his response was eagerly inviting you on and insisting he was more than capable to do as much. He lowered his body for you to comfortably climb onto his back, hugging him firmly while shoving your face into his deep soft locks of fur. Determining you were secure enough, Jack ran.

He ran through the woods a rather short trip because of his sheer speed, it seemed as if only a few minutes had past before you made it to the destination, Jack allowing you to get off his back. Before you stood what looked to be an abandoned projecy, entering the decently sized house that lay on the floor between two older looking trees. The floors were crooked and the ceiling was rotting from moist wood, the inside bare of furniture and appliances. It truly seemed to be a work in progress that someone had decided was no longer worth the time.

"I found this place not too long ago," Jack admitted, "During a run. I meant to bring you here sooner after I fixed up a couple things, I think it'll make a fun hideout one day! Or a study spot for us!" You side eyed wolf Jack, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"Are you sure you weren't trying to trick me into jogging here sometime with you to get my daily dose of exercise in?" He let out an (almost offended) chuckle.

"You're failing gym, it takes a lot to do that." He joked. You embraced him once more, shuffling your head between his shoulder blade and falling to the ground bringing him with you.

"I can't maintain this form forever," He said almost reluctantly, his heart warmed from the affection you gave him. You nodded into his shoulder and breathed in shakily, Jack laying down on his side and allowing you to cuddle against him.

"Just...a little longer," you muttered, "is it weird? I'm sorry." Jack shook his head, giving your cheek a small and affectionate lick and rubbing his soft head into the crook of your neck as if to hug you back.

"Not at all," He replied. You two remained like that for a short period of time, before Jack had to revert back to his original all too soon in your opinion, to his tall and strong human form. His arms were now wrapped around you in a normal hug, to which you responded with a kiss against the soft skin of his cheek.

"Thank you again," you smiled gently at him. Jacks cheeks took on a rosey hue, looking away shyly with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips and a hum of thought escaping them.

"Maybe I should do it more often..." You sat up in excitement, stars in your eyes as he almost immediately regret the words slipping out his mouth. There began the whole theatrics, You insisted that next time he take you on another journey on his back, or saying something silly about him being your "knight in shining fur" protecting you in a "cool" way against danger. You gushed about the stories you could write about some sort of wolf forbidden romance, and all the other things he heard you laugh about before. This time, he listened to you with love and attentiveness more than he ever had before, not realizing how much he missed your rants.

He was truly glad you were back to being yourself...silly, smiling, utterly perfect you.

~~~~~~~~~

I'm so used to writing for the third years KDHFKWJD I hope he wasn't TOO out of character! If you have any suggestions on how I could improve on this, let me know and I shall update it accordingly~ I hope you liked it and properly answers your ask! If not, feel free to send another one <3

[bun-z-bakery]

Hi, I saw you reposted creepypasta content so I was wondering if you could write a story with reader hearing about one of their stories, not believing it and then starting to see them around driving the reader into a slow insanity until one day they decide to take action.

𝑃𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

Paring: Slenderman, Reader, Ticci Toby (No romance so keep that in mind.)

CW: swearing, death, disfigurement, psychological distress, blood and injury.

A/N: Order up :3 It's been a while since I've written so I hope you enjoy it!

Works Menu | Ao3

"My god, that's so creepy, dude…" Your friends chatter among themselves as they read some old urban legend book. You couldn't help but feel a bit irritated, they promised a study session, and instead, they were both here summoning whatever this "thing" was. With a sigh, you open a notebook and look through your notes, attempting to shut them out from your world.

"Hey, dude? Pass the lighter!" Alex points to the lighter next to your foot. You close your eyes as you slam your notebook shut and toss it to the side. When you open your eyes, you notice the work they have done in a span of a few seconds while you tried to study in their presence. Black candles surrounded, a symbol you have seen all too often due to their interest in the supernatural. Annoying, but they were your friends, after all. You kick the lighter hard enough to reach Blake. She takes the lighter, and with a flick, she lights the black candles that circled the symbol made with what you'd assume is salt and maybe crushed leaves.

Whatever the mix was, you wanted no part in their silly rituals. "We need you to pay attention." Alex taps your shoulder; in response, you scoff and figure you'd just play along. The night was a normal everyday night you would have stuck in a college dorm studying. However, you couldn't help but jump at the sudden debris that hit your window as the wind picked up slightly. "Did you guys really plan to do this on a night when it'll storm?" you point towards the window, rolling your eyes at the fact you were doing this instead of studying.

"So much for believing in ghosts…" you mumble just loud enough for them to hear. Alex was about to bark back, but Blake snapped her fingers, putting the attention onto her as she began to read from her phone a series of chants that would summon something. "Guys, I-" You were cut off by the sound of silence, the wind had stopped. The silence within the hall of your dorm made you raise a brow. Uncommon? Yes, but there have been times when it's been silent on certain nights, hangovers tend to do a number on people.

"Did… Did it work?" Blake looks around from where she sat before standing and taking a peek outside through the curtains, the only thing that illuminated the campus sidewalk were the streetlamps and occasional flash of security flashlights. "Guys, it's late, I still need to study, and my test is at 8 in the morning. Please let me get some studying in." You practically pleaded with them to leave. You really did have better things to do, like sobbing over your chicken scratches for notes. You stand and open the door, motioning for them to go.

"I appreciate you guys being here, but really, I need to study with the little time I have… Lunch will be my treat, I promise!" You give Alex and Blake a smile full of exhaustion and a hint of annoyance. They stand and make their way out. Blake stops before you can close the door, and quickly she turns to you with a concerned expression. "Hey, so, if you do see anything strange, please tell us… This uh thing isn't something to be messed around with. Remember, we're in this together!" She smiles as she waves her phone in your face, it was still on the site where she recited the chants from. From experience, 'Together' was her way of saying, 'My mess is our mess.' Though you were never sure if they truly cared about you or if they just needed someone to be bait. But you did enjoy their company when they weren't being a pain in your ass. All you could do was stare at her, you didn't exactly know what to say, and your expression was unreadable.

"Right… Sure, whatever you believe." You wave her off and close the door before she can get another word in. The flickering candles on the floor and salt circle were left for you to clean, of course they were. Quickly you blow out the candles, waving away the smoke and sweeping away the salt with your foot, you'd vacuum tomorrow. You sigh, running your hands across your face before you gather your books and head to your cluttered desk and study for as long as your tired mind is able to.

7:47 am came rolling in faster than you had expected. You were doing your best to get ready for the day on time, but time seemed to have slipped away faster than you had expected. Quickly you swing your backpack over your shoulder and run to your class, the walk through the campus feels different. Dreamlike almost. You were used to the foggy mornings, they weren't exactly rare in the colder months. However, the fog had never been this thick before, it felt as though with every step you took, you were being held back by something. It was no help that the only source of light was the streetlamps you could just barely see.

You pause near one of the streetlamps as you attempt to gather where exactly you are within the sea of fog. You turn to look past the streetlamp, but you can't ignore the note that was stuck to it. You thought at first it may have been some form of notice about the fog, or some nice student had drawn a map to help others get around. A sigh leaves your lips once you realize it was neither, but rather a poorly drawn picture of a fall faceless man, towering over a smaller figure. "Me?" you whispered to yourself, gently taking the drawing off of the streetlamp and scoffing at the thought that Alex and Blake were still trying to scare you even in the peak hours of the morning where the sun was just waking up.

"I have no time for this." You roll your eyes, shove the picture into your pocket, and make your way in the direction you had originally planned on going. In a matter of seconds, the fog finally lifted, and you could make your way around easier. You didn't think you'd be happy to see the building that held your classes in the distance, but the wave of relief from seeing the familiar building said otherwise. "Thank heaven." You mutter as you jog to your class, quickly taking a peek at your phone to check the time; you know you are late now, and you mentally scold yourself at the thought of getting distracted and entertaining such— 7:47 am… you re-read and even tried restarting your phone as you sprinted to your class, you weren't going crazy. You knew that. Perhaps sleep deprivation may be getting to you.

You open the door to the class and settle in, totally ready to tackle whatever curveball questions may be thrown your way. That's what you told yourself, anyway. Oddly enough, the exam went smoothly, a bit too quickly. However, the ringing in your ears and the slight migraine that started to come about were a bit of a distraction. Once the test was finally over, you made your way to your other classes, doing your best to stay awake and present for each of them. Your mind would sometimes wander back to the events of the morning, things weren't adding up. The fog, the time, the picture… Surely someone would've taken it down if they had hung it last night, what- "Excuse me," a voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You glance around the room only to notice everyone is gone, the class is over…

"I-I'm sorry sir! I'll head out now!" you say, a bit embarrassed as you pack your things, getting ready to leave. You glance back to see what notes were written on the board that you may have missed, hoping to snap a photo before it was erased. You stumble back, almost falling at the sight, it was a drawing, the one you had found earlier there on the board, drawn in chalk. You were about to open your mouth to speak, but you decided to hold your tongue. The professor seemed to be in his own world, though you notice you couldn't exactly make out his features… Was he always like this?

You quickly make your way out of class, a wave of relief washes over you once you realize the ringing had stopped, your main stressor has been defeated, and everything was fine—great even. "Watch it!" you barked at the person who had accidentally bumped into you. The sudden rage filled your body and startled you. You shake your head and gather yourself before you continue. "Dude, watch where you're going…" You trail off as you examine him, or what little you could see of his face. Slowly he reaches up, removing his mouth guard just enough for you to see you watch in horror as he exposes a part of his deteriorated mouth, his gums and teeth unprotected by the missing skin. You take a step back, then another, and by the time you realize what was happening, your body already broke into a sprint.

The bustling campus that's usually full of students who were rushing to classes was empty—not a soul in sight but yours and his. You weren't sure where you were running, but you sure as hell knew you were getting out of there. Taking a sharp turn, you make your way back to your dorm, and slam the door shut. You throw your bags down and grab hold onto the desk for support as you try to comprehend what had just happened. Then it hit you. "How stupid…" you mumbled as you dragged your hands across your face and placed them on your head as you began to laugh manically at their prank. "They got the whole fucking school involved! A damn good joke!" You try to reason as you grab your bag, still laughing like some madman. Before you could remove your items, a crumbled piece of paper on the floor caught your eye, right in the center of the so-called "summoning circle" you were supposed to clean right about now.

You inch your way closer to it, a bit weary now, you weren't sure why, but something in the back of your mind was screaming, pleading with you to believe this. To believe them. But you refused, you just couldn't believe in something so senseless! As you take hold of the paper, you examine it. It was a similar drawing to the one from earlier, however, this time, Alex and Blake were there… They were dead. Your eyes widen, now their jokes are becoming something more sinister. "Very funny! Let it go already, guys." You were fully annoyed now, and a bit embarrassed at how much they've managed to give you a scare. You pace around the room, waiting for them to jump out at you, from under the bed, the window—you didn't really know, but you were growing tired.

As you begin to clean the remains of the circle, you could hear a faint crackle in your ears. "Great," you mumbled to yourself as you tried everything to unclog your ears, it only grew stronger the more you swept the salt. It became overbearing; you closed your eyes and held your ears, your world felt as though it were spinning and on the verge of crashing. You just barely open your eyes, you scream as you catch a glimpse of a figure—the same tall, faceless figure you've seen in the drawings. You scream as loud as possible, your vocal cords felt as though they'd rip, as quickly as it started, it stopped. Everything fell into silence. Slowly, you glance around your room as you shakily remove your hands from your ears. You notice another note on your window.

"Always watches."

Your heart skips a beat as you read the note. With trembling legs, you take a step back from your window. You scream at the sudden noise that came from outside your door. "Hello?! Are you ok?!" a voice calls out frantically from behind it. You rush towards the door, swinging it open.

"Are you ok?" The woman looks concerned as she examines your face, your dissolved clothes and messy hair. "You're bleeding!" she exclaims as she reaches a hand to your left ear. You slapped her hand away and stared at her. You weren't sure why you made that decision, but nothing felt right. And now this was far from some harmless prank between friends. "Stay away…" you say in a whisper. She reaches out to you again before you break into a sprint. "STAY AWAY!" you yell as if you were being hunted. Voices plagued your mind as you ran as fast as you're physically able to. You weren't sure where you were running to, but you needed to get out of there.

It felt as though you were running in circles, everything felt further than usual. Time has slipped from your fingers. You decided to bite the bullet and sprint with what little energy you had left to Blake's dorm, you needed to put an end to this joke NOW. You pound on the door, hoping she'd let you in, explain everything, and maybe even let you apologize for being a jerk to her and Alex. Maybe this was just some form of petty revenge, whatever the case may be, you needed it to stop. The door swings open. "Hey—hey, what happened?" Blake's familiar voice made you feel a sense of comfort. Pathetically, You fall to the ground and clench onto what you can of the carpet, your nails stinging as they dug into the harsh fabric as if you were an animal in pain, begging for it to end. "I think I'm going insane. What ever prank you and Alex and the whole school are playing on me, it ends now, please. I can't take it anymore!"

You plead with the woman who stood unmoving as you wept in front of her, you were hoping she'd say something, anything. But she was silent. You look up, your eyes widen in terror as you realize you weren't in the dorm, you weren't with Blake. You glance around, trying to decipher your location, all you could see were rows of trees that went on for what you believed were miles. You slowly move your gaze up, choking back a scream as the creature bends down to look at you as you look back at it. Making you feel smaller than you've ever felt before. There he was, the same tall, faceless man who had plagued your mind.

"Hello, my prey." His booming voice seemed to echo everywhere, and pain eclipsed your entire body. You could feel the way your body contorted and the way your bones crunched. You weren't sure if you were being ripped apart, burned alive, or eaten. Whatever it may have been, it seemed to last forever. You had no voice to plead, no way of fighting off such a creature. Your mangled body harshly makes contact with the ground. The last thing you see are Alex and Blake, their disfigured bodies only distinguishable by Blake's tattoos and Alex's bracelet. You smiled and laughed through the pain, even if nothing came out. The cruel fate you'd had met with your friends, the three of you together again, one last time.

A/N: Hey ya finished! Have an extra treat 🍰☕Also is it just me or does anyone remember ticci toby being spelled as ticcy and not ticci?! Is it just me?! 😭

[tokoyamisstuff]

Halloween with the Hellsing Characters

Inspired by an Anon ask. Can be read both romantic and platonic. No warnings.

Featuring: Anderson, Alucard, Walter, The Captain, Seras (+ Pip), Integra

Anderson:

Sorry, but this man is an absolute killjoy about every non-christian holiday. However in the end he's a big softie and can't deny you or the children any wish. Will fold like a lawn chair eventually.

Even then he'll complain. A lot. It's heretic to celebrate this, it promotes gluttony that, blah blah blah...

Man will get a heart attack seeing his sweet lil' babies dressed up as vampires and the likes, it's hilarious just observing him tryna keep his cool for their sake. You'll coerce him into going as Frankenstein but he refuses to acknowledge the similarities.

He definetly has a sweet tooth and can be bribed into having a good time though, especially after he discovers his bayonetts are working neatly for cutting pumpkins.

Alucard:

This is one silly, goofy man and you can't tell me otherwise. You think this is below him? Nah, he'll take any chance of entertainment he can get. There's nothing off limits or too cringe for him.

I mean hello?! It's the only time of the year he can literally be himself and people will think it's just a decent costume or special effects. Probably shows up headless or turns into a bat, shows people his 'puppies' or whatever.

Will absolutely overdo it, though. Terrifies the local children (and adults alike), the police will probably get involved at some point and Integra has to bail you guys out.

Ordinary events like these actually help him feel a little more human again, so he can't wait until next year.

Walter:

Not a fan of anything that had been introduced by the US, including this tradition. It wasn't part of his childhood either so he's not really eager to committ. Yet in the ends he loves to serve, especially people he's fond of, and he's very adaptable too.

Would like a more classy and mature approach, like going to some kind of masquerade. Could also see him hosting his own gathering.

There's literally nothing he can't do himself, from selfmade treats to a puppet show using his wires. Would absolutely love to do a partner-costume with you and can sew anything you want!

The Captain:

In all honesty this man would rather just spend the evening in peace and silence at home with you.

Is very passive about basically anything, but that means you can do whatever you want to him and he won't complain. Dress him up as something cute, chances are high he'll secretly love it. Doesn't even try to be scary, he just is.

Mostly just quietly looms in the background but he really is happy, he could watch you do stuff you like forever.

Seras and Pip:

They're the most hyped about it like?? omg yess thank you for asking

Wants to do it all: making sweets, decorating, trick or treat, visit a haunted house, go to a party. They have a whole childhood to make up for.

They're definetly pranksters and will wreak havoc in the entire neighbourhood. Act like Pip is some kind of glove puppet, use Seras' powers to entertain the children or make it rain candy, etc...

Despite being a literal median herself Seras is still soo jittery, will jump and scream at anything really. The fact that Pip tries to scare her doesn't make it any better. They're mostly giggling and chanting, though.

Integra:

To be honest it's been a while since this woman has actually enjoyed herself. It'll take a while to convince her but then she'll spare no expenses to assure the best experience ever. Private jet to all the best places it is.

No costume for her, she's intimidating enough. Gets in trouble for carrying real weapons too.

A lil' paranoid, always expecting the worst like an enemy to hide amongst the crowd. What better moment for a monster to strike would there be than during Halloween?

Calls it childish and unnecesssary a lot, but damn did she have fun (will rather drop dead than admit it).

[heartshapedmisery]

here to ask for some sub!neil plssss🫶

YESSS been thinking about sub!neil too much recently I need him biblically !! sorry this took me a sec it got lost in my drafts and I forgot abt it

warnings! ⇢ MINORS DNI 18+ | sub!neil, unprotected sex, riding, petnames ( baby boy, sweetheart ), neil having a huuuge praise kink

The two of you fell back against the couch hastily, Neil shirtless below you as he pulled you down on top of him and his hands settled at the curves of your waist.

"Need you," he breathed, his eyes raking your figure as you sat back, your hands flat on his chest as you let him get a good look at you.

"Patience, baby," you cooed, the hint of a knowing smirk evident on your face as you could feel his erection grow harder beneath you as you sat on his lap. You could practically feel all of him through his boxer shorts, especially since you had no more than your favorite pair of lace panties on your lower half.

Hesitantly, you rocked your hips back, creating just enough friction to earn a soft moan from his lips. "Please," he whined, impatiently moving his hips around to relieve his hard-on as much as he could. You had always loved him like this. Eager for even the lightest of touches. The simplest of movements.

"Be good, sweetheart," you whispered. "Good boys get what they want." you told him, tucking a loose piece of hair behind his ear. Carefully, you pulled your t-shirt over your head and discarded it behind you without caring where it landed. Neil's eyes practically bugged out of his head when he saw your pretty lace bra matching your panties, his grip tightening on your waist.

"Want you so bad, need to feel that pussy," he breathed through a strained groan, beginning to grow irritated with your taunting. As much as you loved making him squirm underneath you like this, his rock-hard cock sitting right beneath your core had you worked up just as much as he was, your wetness pooling at the fabric of your panties.

Silently, you caved and dipped your hand beneath his boxers, grasping his length and pulling it free—his tip flushed and wet with his precum. Without thinking, your thumb ran over the slit at his head, making a shudder roll through his body along with an abnormally loud moan.

"So big, baby," you breathed, sitting up a little to pull the crotch of your panties to the side and align his tip with your entrance. "Don't know if it'll fit." His eyes watched your hand intently, his heart practically beating out of his chest as he watched himself slowly disappear inside of you as you sank down.

"F-Fuck," he choked out, his eyes screwing shut as a wave of relief washed over him. You were so wet around him, clenching him just right as you fell into a steady movement of rolling your hips across his.

He wasn't going to last long.

"Baby," you breathed, your hands planted on his bandy chest to hold yourself upright as you rode him, hanging on for dear life so you didn't fall off the couch. "Fuck, you're so big! Fills me so good."

He couldn't help but moan pathetically, your praise making his heart flutter. His hands clenched around the flesh of your thigh as he helped guide your hips up and down his cock, since you were practically bouncing on it by now.

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he let your name fall from his lips like a chant, barely masking the squelching sound of your wet cunt wrapped around him. Both of you were close, and his tip grazing your cervix with every move of your hips really wasn't helping.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" you breathed, feeling your own climax growing in your abdomen. Neil was too caught up in chasing his pleasure to say anything right away, his eyes screwing shut as he barely let out a response. "Y-Yes, fuck!"

Your hand gripped his arm as it wrapped around your waist, your nails digging into his skin as a borderline squeal escaped your throat, finally tipping over the edge of your high at the feeling of his release filling you. Neil moaned out as he thrust up into you, his body tense with pleasure as you fell onto his chest tiredly, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck. He could feel you smiling against his skin, your head moving to slowly plant sweet kisses along his neck and cheek before finally reaching his lips.

"So good," you told him in between pecks. "Always so good for me . . "

[theclaravoyant]

homecoming, a coda (ryderdie)

AN ~ for @rarepairs-of-911 Rarepair Bingo! prompt: “cheering each other on” Judd x Grace Ryder, Lone Star 5x12 (finale) insert/coda, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, fluff!

masterpost read on AO3 (~700wd)

homecoming, a coda

“... We like Papa-Bro,” TK begins, and Carlos can't stop his nose crinkling just a little bit. It's enough for Paul to catch though.

“Mm, do we?” he challenges on Carlos' behalf.

“Well-”

“No, no,” Marjan encourages. “I want to hear it...”

The team devolves into a debate while Jonah gleefully soaks up being the centre of attention, and Judd – Judd takes the opportunity to slip away. Charlie is gurgling away in her brother's arms and they got the cake special ordered from his favourite place and Cap hasn't even mentioned spirulina once the whole day and he should be happy.

If Grace were here, she'd want him to be happy. She'd even told him not to worry about her, that the internet over there was too spotty for her to stream in, and to take a bunch of photos for her. He raises his phone now, remembering, and snaps a photo of his happy family. He's trying not to see the one missing.

Lord, he prays to himself, give me grace to let go and be generous of heart. Let me not harbour selflessness and wish to break her from her task.

Lord, let my wife feel my love for her as strongly as I wish to feel her love for me right now.

He closes his eyes for a moment. Not sure why; maybe it'll help. Maybe it's just enough to be with her alone in his thoughts, just for this moment. Then someone claps his shoulders from behind.

“Got another surprise for you, Judd,” Owen announces.

“On top of your cauliflower pizza base recipe? You shouldn't have.” He almost laughs, but it's hard through the sheer weight of his pining heart. “Honestly, Cap. This house is all I could ever want. Only thing that'd make today better is to have both my girls under one roof. Can't win 'em all, right?”

“Maybe you can.”

Owen gestures to the back of the house, and Judd turns. He does a double take. It's not – it can't be -

“Gracie.”

He can't breathe. She smiles, soft and radiant, and the murmuring arguing conversing crowd falls away to nothing. For all his heart rises in his chest, there should be a choir of angels come to bless them, but instead, there's her voice.

“Hey, baby,” she greets. “I'm so sorry I'm late. My plane was delayed.”

She's here.

She's really here, not a vision or a dream but -

Here, feet from him, breathing the same air as him, and before he can think to move consciously, his feet are carrying him forward. She matches his pace, and they're all but running by the time they meet, and he can feel her arm around his hips. Her fingers brush his beard as his own dig through her hair and he kisses, she kisses, they kiss for the first time in almost a year and it zips through his body like it's all brand new. But it's not. It's hard work. It's a long road that's brought them here.

Grace lays a hand over his newest addition: the Captain's shield pinned to his dress uniform. She's still smiling, with tears in her eyes that must match his own as she looks around the firehouse and lets it take her breath away. His firehouse now, after all this time, and it's full of his team – watching them both reunite amidst them all, every set of eyes is glistening with joy and sympathy and love.

“I'm so proud of you,” she tells him. “I love you, Juddy.”

And, well, they've made well enough a show of it that she takes the chance to steal one more beautiful kiss, and she pulls away beaming.

“Alright! Three cheers for Captain Ryder, everybody!”

They do a few rounds of hip-hip-hooray, and launch into For He's a Jolly Good Fellow, and Charlie runs into her mama's arms and the 126 floods in to cheer and chant and embrace.

Owen posts the photo to him later, properly framed and everything: a jumble of admirers and streamers and the flashes of cameras and in the middle of it all, Captain and Mrs Grace Ryder, and everything is as it should be.

[rogueddie]

Eddie hates how quiet the trailer is. Always has. At night, with the low yellow lights, it's almost worse. Something so eerie, unsettling. And tonight is worse. The silence is almost suffocating, like a living thing scratching at his skin. He can't stand it.

"I hope you don't mind music," Eddie says loudly as he heads to his room.

He doesn't look back at Chrissy, doesn't want to make her anymore nervous than she already is. He simply flicks on the radio, turning it to a more mainstream station that plays the usual pop shit. He doesn't recognize the song playing but it has a lot of synths. It sounds horrible but it's the exact type of song that someone like Chrissy would like, plus it fills the silence. It'll have to do.

It takes him longer to find the special K than he'd like. He really should clean his room. The song that plays next is a Queen song though, so he doesn't have as much to complain about.

He skips back to the living room, grinning.

"Found it! Peaceful bliss, just moments away."

Chrissy is just… stood there. Her eyes are rolled up, making him think for a moment that she might have passed out. Probably from the anxiety. But she's still standing.

"Chrissy?" There's no response, she doesn't even twitch. Maybe she's pulling a prank? "Chrissy? Hello?" If it is a prank then maybe making her jump will make her stop; he jumps a step forward, slightly raising his voice; "Chrissy!"

Nothing. It's then that he notices, it's then that he's close enough to see- her eyes aren't just looking up, they're rolled as far back as they can go, twitching around. They're pale blue, giving her an almost ghostly look.

She isn't pranking him. Whatever is happening is something serious.

"Hey, Chrissy, wake up. Hey, hello?" He snaps his fingers, hoping the noise and proximity might help. Nothing, again. "Chrissy? Hello? Hey Chrissy-!"

The lights flicker. Not just a normal flicker, it's almost violent. He can hear the electricity spike. It's just flickering lights but something about it is terrifying. Something is very, very wrong.

"Time to wake up. Ok, hello?" He grabs her shoulders, hoping to shake her out of whatever is going on with her. "Can you hear me? Wake up, Chrissy. Chrissy, wake up! I don't like this, Chrissy! Wake up!"

The lights are still flickering, the sense that something very wrong overwhelming. Not even the chanting bridge of Radio Gaga eases any of the tension, only makes it more eerie. And nothing he's doing is working. She can't seem to hear him, or see him and even slapping her shoulders doesn't get a response.

"Chrissy? Chrissy, Chrissy, Chrissy!" He keeps repeating, gently slapping her cheeks, so overwhelmingly desperate that his chest almost aches. "Chrissy, wake up now! Chrissy! Chrissy!"

She- she floats. She starts lifting off the ground.

He backs off. Whatever is happening is so far out of his scope, so far out of his control. He can only stare, knowing he can't do anything. Whatever is happening to her is not natural. Not human.

She just stays there, hovering in his living room, eyes rolled back.

Should he pull her back down? Should he leave her floating? What happens if he does try to touch her? Is she cursed? Is something lifting her? If he tries to save her, will it kill her? Is it already killing her and it wouldn't matter anyway? Oh, shit, is he going to have to watch her die?

He has so many questions, so much uncertainty. He stands there; frozen, shaking, eyes wide.

Just when he decides that he should do something, steps forward to grab her ankle and pull her down-

Chrissy gasps. It's as though strings have been cut and she falls, hard. She yelps at the sharp impact, collapsing onto her knees. Eddie is quick to dash forward, falling to his knees too, grabbing at her shoulders again.

"Are you ok? Chrissy, shit, are you ok?!"

She whimpers, throwing her arms around his waist, clinging to him painfully tight. He wraps his arms around her too, holding on just as tight. Her sobbing is horrible, sounding so pained, but it's sound- proof that she's alive, even if she is shaken. Eddie hates how much relief it brings him.

It takes a while for her to calm down. Eddie still feels freaked out.

"Sorry," she tries to pull back.

Eddie holds onto her biceps though. "No, no, no, you don't apologize, just- what the fuck was that?"

She stares at him, conflicted. She looks down, ashamed, when he raises his eyebrows. "I've been having hallucinations. Hearing things."

"That's not what that was," Eddie quickly points out. "You were in the air. You were floating. What the fuck was that?"

"N-no, that… that wasn't real, that-"

"That was real. That was very real."

"Oh god," Chrissy whispers, beginning to tremble again. "It's just hallucinations though, it can't be real. M-maybe you were seeing things too?"

"I am stone cold sober, Chris. I wish I wasn't, I wish this was some mad hallucination, but that was real. That- fucking hell, Chrissy, I thought you were going to die! Please, please, tell me what the fuck is going on. Are you cursed?"

"Maybe. I don't know. Do you… know about curses?"

Eddie barks out a laugh, high pitched and hysterical. "In games? Sure. Whatever this thing is… it's beyond me."

"You knew put on music," Chrissy tries for a smile. "That really helped."

"Music?"

"Yeah. It was like… I could hear which way was the way out? Does that make sense?"

"Sort of. But music was the only thing that helped? Specifically music?"

"Yeah." Chrissy shifts, watching Eddie beginning to pace. "If it's a curse… is nowhere safe?"

"Or do they need to know where you are first," Eddies eyes widen. Chrissy feels her stomach drop when she comes to the same conclusion. "You need to get out of here. Shit. Come on, I'll drive you home. We can figure something out."

Chrissy takes the hand offered, hurrying to keep up with Eddies sprint. "Ok but- Eddie, home isn't safe either."

Eddie frowns, hovering at the passenger door he's holding open. "What? You think it would know you'd go there?"

"Maybe but… it's just… it's not safe."

Eddie doesn't ask. He recognizes the look on her face- he's seen it enough times in the mirror to be more than familiar. He flicks through the radio until it's on the pop station again and drives to Ricks. He goes faster than he should be and a lot less safe, if Chrissys little reactions are anything to go by, but he gets them there quickly. He knows the best place to hide his van too.

"We should stay in the boathouse," Eddie explains when he has to pull her off-course. "He keeps his radio out here, with headphones. Extra batteries too."

He digs around until he finds the radio, the headphones and the multiple packs of batteries. Chrissy is awkward and tense, but he doesn't let that distract him. He would've shoved the headphones on her if he had to.

"I'm gonna grab some blankets from inside. Stay here. No one thinks to look in here and, if this is something looking for you, it might not think to look here too. I'll be quick, promise."

"Ok."

[some-gurl-idk]

Feelings

This is just what I think would happen during the seamstress shop scene if my oc Ezra was in Castlevania: Nocturne, there's one scene during that I want to focus on but I'm just doing the whole thing for fun

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

"This will do" Annette said as the group walked into the seamstress shop, no one was here

Richter, Alucard, and Ezra picked up the fabric and other stuff off the floor to make enough room while Annette looked for some chalk to draw the symbol

After Annette finished making the symbol on the floor, she sat down in front of it, mentally preparing herself

"My soul might be away from my body for a while" She said. In response to that, Richter grabbed a blanket from off a nearby chair and folded it behind her, making a makeshift pillow

"Just in case" He said, giving her a smile, Annette looked at him with a smile of her own, then looked back down at the floor

"Cecil always warns of our souls mustn't get lost in the spirit world" Annette said with a solemn expression "What happens if they do?" Alucard asked

Annette stayed silent for a moment "...I will never wake up" Richter and Ezra both gasped in shock and worry, Richter put his hand on Annette's, assuring her "All three of us will be here. Don't be afraid"

Richter gave her a reassuring look "Maybe it'll help you find your way back"

Ezra gently put a hand on her shoulder "We'll all be here for you" He gently reassured her

Annette looked up at him and gave him a look of gratitude, and turned back to the symbol, ready to begin. Ezra stepped back while Richter scooted away as Annette started chanting

It took a few seconds and the symbol started to glow a golden yellow, then Annette fell silent, so only looked ahead of her, sge didn't even respond when Richter tried calling out to her

"It worked, she's in the spirit world" Ezra noted, looking at her he couldn't help but worry for Annette, the very girl he viewed as his own daughter

"I'll be here" Richter said, holding her hand "Remember I'm here"

Alucard gazed at the two with a solemn expression, seeing the love Richter had for Annette. He looked next to him at Ezra, the very angel he loved, who was looking at Annette and fiddling with his locket

Alucard placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, the Angel put his own hand over it, not taking his eyes off the girl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ezra setting on window bench, looking outside in deep thought, his eyes would occasionally glance at Annette or the other two men leaning on the table on the other side of the room

"I've seen her take down night creatures and vampires in one move" Alucard stated "She can handle herself" He said as if trying to reassure Richter and Ezra. The Angel only gave a huff in response

"But the spirit world is a different battle field" Richter argued. Ezra decided to stay quiet, letting the two talk

"You want to go after her?" Alucard questioned "Do you think there's a way I could?" Richter asked, ready to go and somehow help Annette

"No" Alucard simply said "You weren't born worshipping her gods or using their powers. You'd just probably get in her way"

Ezra rolled his eyes, though he liked Alucard's bluntness, sometimes he wished the Dhampir was more gentle with his words

"I'm not as useless as you think I am" Richter muttered, looking away dejected "I never said useless" Alucard clarified "Sometimes careless" He quickly added

"Oh excuse me for not having three hundred years to perfect the art of war" Richter sarcastically replied. Ezra chuckled at that while Alucard gave a short breathy chuckle "What?"

"Nine generations later and sarcasm still runs in the Belmont blood. Trevor would be proud" Alucard smiled fondly. Ezra too smiled fondly, remembering the time he spent with Trevor and Sypha when they walked the earth

"I don't need some distant relieves pride" Richter remarked "My mother would be happy with who I am" he muttered

Alucard walked across the room to look out to the sunset, Ezra looked up at the Dhampir who stood across from him. He couldn't help but admire the way Alucard looked out in the window in thought

"You're Mother and I never met, but.." Alucard paused "When you live as long as I have, you start to understand....we're all part of the same story somehow....and these connections run very deep"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nighttime already and Annette was still in the spirit world, Ezra was kneeling beside her, wiping the sweat off her face, after he was done he stood back up and looked over at Richter

Richter was still standing, but he looked quite tired "Get some rest Richter, we'll take the first night's watch" Ezra said, gesturing to the stool behind the young man, taking a seat on the bench "I'm fine" Richter insisted

"You can't keep your promise to protect her, if you're too tired to fight" Alucard stated, he was sitting on the bench looking out the window with his arms crossed, left leg proped up with the right one on the ground

"We'll watch over you both until morning" Alucard said "Night and day are much the same to me. Thanks to my lineage" He said as he looked at Richter, his lip quirked up a bit

Richter looked at Alucard "Would you change it if you could?" He asked "Being Draculas' son?"

Ezra was caught off guard the question, and he could tell Alucard was surprised by the question as well. Admittedly Ezra thought about it too a few times, but he never thought to ask

Alucard didn't say anything for a few seconds, and Ezra wondered how he would answer to such a question

"Everything is connected Richter, I can't remove one name from my story without erasing other" Alucard looked down at his lap

"Like your Mother?" Richter questioned. Alucard only looked out the window, staying silent for a moment before he spoke again

"When I was traveling in Japan, I learned that family are not only made by blood" Alucard said "Ancestors and offspring are linked together, by a shared bond"

Alucard sighed and looked down to his lap again "For centuries I've been fighting to save humanity with a Belmont by my side" Alucard smiled "Isn't that a family too?" Alucard looked over and paused

That's when Ezra heard snoring coming from Richters' spot, looking over to see the young Belmont fast asleep

Both Alucard and Ezra chuckled at the boy, and looked out the window. Well Alucard did, Ezra tried to look at the night sky but he kept looking over at Alucard, admiring how the Dhampir looked in the moonlight

He looked angelic, the way his hair shined in the moonlight, the way his gold eyes were almost glowing, he was the most beautiful man Ezra had ever seen

"Beautiful..." Ezra whispered, not realizing he said that out loud "What's beautiful?" Alucard asked

Ezra snapped out of his dazed and saw Alucard looking at him with a smirk, as if he already knew what, or who, the Angel was referring too

"O-oh! Well well...um" Ezra stammered "I-i was talking about the moon!" Alucard raised an eyebrow "The moon?" He asked in a fake curious one, seeing through the excuse

"Yep! The moon is quite beautiful tonight!" Ezra said a little too quickly for his liking. Alucard gave breathy chuckle, finding the Angels' flushered expression amusing and quite cute

"Yes, the moon is beautiful tonight" Alucard agreed as he looked back out at the sky, deciding to leaves the poor Angel alone

Well...not before saying something at least "You're quite beautiful yourself Ezra, especially in the sunlight" Alucard shifted his gaze to the flushered man sitting across him

Ezra felt his face heat up "I..." He clears his throat "Thank you" Ezra gave a shy smile and looked away, facing the window

The pair sat in silence for a good while, just enjoying each other's company, till they noticed Annette starting to....float?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Richter woke up it was nearing the evening. He looked out the window for a few seconds trying to wake up, that's when he noticed the reflection

Richter gasped and turned to find Annette floating, still in the same criss-cross leg position she was in yesterday

"She's been doing that for hours" Alucard, who was now standing and staring at Annette, informed Richt

"Why didn't you wake me?" Richter asked, still in shock "What were you going to do?" Ezra asked, still sitting on the bench

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ezra had left a few minutes ago to check on the people and how everything was going along

Richter was walking in circles around Annette, growing antsy. Alucard was leaning on a table near the door, watching Richter

"You should tell her" Alucard said out of the blue. Richter stop and gave him a bored expression "Tell her what?" He questioned

"I'm pretty sure she loves you too" Alucard stated, catching Richter by surprise

The young man cleared his throat and tried to act nonchalant "Oh, did she....say something?" Richter questioned

"Yes" The Dhampir said, twisting a strand of his hair around his index finger "Yes she confessed it when we were braiding each other's hair and talking about you" Alucard sarcastically replied

Richter didn't look amused "Funny" Alucard gave an amused huff

"She laughs at your jokes, she debates your ideas, she understands what you have lost" Richter looked down at floor in thought

"You should tell her, preferably before you get old"

"What're the chances we'll live that long?" Richter murmured. The Belmont was in silent thought before he said "You must of been in love, over all that time?" Richter pondered

Alucard looked down "Countless times" He then looked towards the door "Even now"

Richter was confused for a moment, till he connected the dots "Ezra? You're in love Ezra?" Alucard chuckled a bit

"Even after all these years, I could never shake off the feeling" Alucard had a fond smile on his face at the thought of Ezra, before it fell and he looked at Richter

"Show her who you are beyond the Belmont bravado" Alucard said "You said you'd be here. Make her feel it's true" Richter turned to look at Annette "That she can always come to you"

Richter thought about for a moment "I'll tell her, when the time is right" Alucard nodded in understanding

They stood in silence for a moment before Richter spoke up "When will you tell Ezra?"

Alucard thought for a moment, truthfully he had thought about confessing to the Angel over the years. He thought about what he would do, what he would say, even how he would react if Ezra rejected him

But with trying to find Sekmets' body and finding a way to stop Erzsebet, the thought hadn't crossed his mind in a long while

"Maybe, when all of this is over" Alucard voiced "Maybe I'll finally tell him then"