#les apple white

[arrestedexgirlfriendafterhigh]

If you ever think Im chill remember that Madeleine Hatter has always been at the top of my kin list :3

[codenamesailordarillium]

if i had a nickel for every kpop girl group song/mv making reference to the biblical eve + forbidden apple story coming out during the very same semester i was taking a milton class where we read paradise lost, i’d only have 2 nickels, which isn’t much, but it’s funny it happened twice 😝

[kisstoru]

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . HOW TO EDGE YOUR LOSER BOYFRIEND - SATORU GOJO

word count: 1.5k

warnings: virgin!gojo x gn!reader, hāndjōb, ōrgasm denial, whiny sub!gojo, dacryphilia, cūm eating, bāll sūcking, established relationship, pet names, mdni

note: tum tum don't be mean 🙏🏽 thank you for beta'ing @thebimbopalace lube you x

loose strands of snowy white hair cling to the sheen of sweat coating satoru’s forehead. his chest, tinted over with a rose-coloured flush, rises and falls unsteadily, attempting to flood his lungs with oxygen. his crystalline irises zero in on the pearls of pre cum beading out of his slit, trickling down his length and landing on your hand, which is wrapped around his aching tip. your tongue prods at the velvety flesh in your cheek before you squeeze your fist around him, drawing out a shaky gasp from his plump lips.

“’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” satoru chokes out, shutting his eyes momentarily. his beefy arms planted behind him on the cotton bedsheets tremble, struggling to keep his upper body upright.

you’re slotted between his legs, the fingers of your other hand splayed out on the expanse of his muscular thigh. your eyes trail up the breadth of his torso, along the curve of his neck before halting abruptly to meet his blown-out pupils. tufts of his silky hair are in disarray, his lips parted ever so slightly as he opens his eyes once more, a hint of a plea in his gaze.

your eyebrows furrow, feigning innocence. “doing what?” you ask, gathering up the vicious liquid with the edge of your index finger, smearing it messily over satoru's reddened tip. a smirk tugs at your tips when a stifled groan reaches your eardrums.

moving your fist up and down his shaft, your eyes are trained on every little reaction you’re able to coax out of your boyfriend — the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the strained pants, the way his nails dig into the sheets. his jaw clenches, resisting the threat his hips hold out to buck his cock against your cushiony palm. the pink muscle of his tongue darts out to swipe over his lower lip, glossing it over with saliva. “f-fuck, just like that.”

the sound of slick fusing with satoru’s heavy breathing bounces off the bedroom walls. your pace is unrelenting, your wrist twisting as your palm glides up and down his length. satoru’s back arches in response, his chest projecting towards you as a string of desperate whines pours out of his gaped lips. dewdrops of sweat form at his hairline, trickling down his temple. the increasing warmth of his shaft spreads to your palm, a silent warning of his impending orgasm.

“please,” he groans as his nails dig into the sheets, his knuckles losing pigment. “‘m— shit, ’m gonna—”

your eyes flicker up to his face again. a trace of a smile plays at your lips when you suddenly pull your hand away, his cock bobbing about before hitting his stomach with a gentle smack. milky white globs of pre cum ooze out of his engorged tip, smearing across his happy trail. satoru’s eyes widen at the abrupt halt to his climax, his clutch on the fabric beneath him loosening.

“wha—” he chokes out, his lips gaping in blatant disbelief. the way his cock twitches is almost painful, every fibre of his body vibrating in anticipation for the high that never came. fresh tears prick at his waterline, his bottom lip jutting forward in a sincere pout. “what was that for?”

“there’s no fun if you cum this fast,” you retort, a smug expression moulding into your features. “i suppose it’s expected when you haven’t been touched like this before.” you notice the delicate tear running down the apple of his cheek. “you wanna cum, satoru?”

satoru’s urge for release outweighs his composure as he nods frantically, desperation clouding his senses. “please, baby,” he murmurs, holding your gaze in his own. “fuck— please let me cum.”

your eyes light up at his pleading words before looking down at his aching cock, which is now resting on his lower stomach. your hand reaches out to wrap around his length once more, your thumb brushing over his drooling slit before applying pressure more insistently. he hisses in response, his eyes screwing shut as he lets his jaw slack. “fuuuckkk me.”

you rub the slit at an agonisingly slow pace, noting the way the muscles of his thigh flex under your hand. picking up the pace of your movements, your thumb slides seamlessly along it, aided by his pre cum.

“shit— hah, stop teasing,” he rasps out, his nose and cheeks blushing a deep coral shade. a needy little whine leaks from his swollen lips at the lack of friction. “i need it, baby. need you to— mmph, milk me dry.” 

“patience, satoru,” you whisper, your voice holding a familiar gentleness that blankets him into a dreamy trance. “be good f’me.”

your thumb works at his slit daringly faster, occasionally squeezing your fist around him. his thick eyebrows narrow into a rigid frown, his teeth gritting as he feels an ache inflame his lower belly. 

“y-you’re being mean,” he huffs, a layer of his tears drowning out the cerulean hue in his irises. “come on— hngh, please make me feel good, baby. i n-need you.”

finding amusement in his apparent frustration, your thumb now rubs slow, calculated circles around his opening. too lost in your game, your ears perk up at the sniffle mere metres away from you. lifting your head up, your eyebrows raise at the sight of salty tears racing down the edges of his face. 

“‘s too much. hah, t-too much!” he spits out, his words coated with exasperated need as he almost chokes on his overflowing tears. your eyes soften slightly, which contradicts with the heat growing between your legs at the sight of him so vulnerable, so needy. leaning forward, you tenderly kiss away the tears before bringing your lips down to meet his in a heated kiss, holding his bottom lip hostage between your teeth momentarily before pulling back. 

“poor baby,” you coo, a playful taunt in your tone. “i’ll be nice, kay?”

his adam’s apple bobs as he watches you lower your head, your warm breath fanning over the sensitive underside of his balls. your tongue flattens, running along the spongy tissue before latching your lips around a sweet spot, eliciting an almost pornographic moan from satoru.

“hngh! oh my fucking god, hah—” he groans, throwing his head back. his teeth sink into his lower lip, attempting to stifle the unholy sounds blossoming at the base of his throat. his large hand lifts from the mattress, resting on the back of your head. his nails graze your scalp tenderly, guiding you to continue. the slurping and sucking sounds between satoru’s legs are so filthy, that he feels a heated flush scatter across his cherubic cheeks. you relish his muffled whimpers becoming more pronounced.

satoru's silken white lashes flutter as he peers down at you, his nails clutching some strands of your hair into a trap of desire. “yeahyeahyeah, like that— ohhh fuck, mmph,” he mumbles, his honeyed words fueling your actions. “’m close! don’t stop, baby. l-let me cum.”

your cheeks hollow out as you continue to accommodate his tender skin in your inviting cavity. your fingers wrapping around satoru's cock once more, stroking him leisurely to accompany your oral action. a thread of drool slips from the corner of your lip, running down the curve of his ball before forming a tiny puddle on your fresh sheets. you feel the familiar warmth within your hold, indicating that he’s nearing the climax he’s been chasing. the dainty veins running down his shaft throb as his legs tremble, his abs clenching and unclenching as a guttural whine gushes from his lips.

“fuck! ‘m cumming, baby— oh shitttt,” he grunts out, his cock twitching violently before splattering thick, hot spurts of cum across the canvas of his torso and your hair, an artful display of his heavenly bliss. panting heavily, he watches you pull away from his drained-out balls, a satisfied hum buzzing at your lips.

your gaze lingers on the droplets of cum dripping down his softening cock. your eyes glide up to meet his hazy stare. daring him to maintain eye contact, you scoop the remnants with your fingertip and bring them to your waiting mouth, smearing the substance across your tongue before wrapping your lips around your finger. satoru’s mouth opens faintly, entranced by your lewd display — he almost moans at the sight.

sucking off the remnants, you pull your finger out of your mouth with a light pop. you lean forward once more to capture his lips in a languid kiss. your tongue glides over his, painting his taste buds with a heady mix of your saliva and his cum, feeling satoru whimper against you in response, the vibration sending shock waves through your body.

satoru feels your smirk print against his lips briefly before you break the kiss, your fingertips grazing over his tip. he looks up at you with starry eyes, a stupid smile relaxing on his flushed face. “thank you for letting me cum.”

it’s going to be a long night.

[hedgehog-moss]

"rn I feel like reading about someone's quiet daily life, maybe a diary or letters, set in a place or context I don't know much about, without turmoil or tragedy" oh! do you have any recommendations for books like this?

This is one of my favourite types of books! Here are 30(ish) recs...

May Sarton's The House by the Sea or Plant Dreaming Deep

Gyrðir Elíasson's Suðurglugginn / La fenêtre au sud (not translated into English unfortunately!), also Bergsveinn Birgisson's Landslag er aldrei asnalegt / Du temps qu'il fait (exists in German too)

Gretel Ehrlich's The Solace of Open Spaces, which iirc was originally written as journal entries and letters before being adapted into a book

Kenneth White's House of Tides: Letters from Brittany and Other Lands of the West

Sei Shonagon's Pillow Book

The Diary of a Provincial Lady, E. M. Delafield

Growing Up with the Impressionists: The Diary of Julie Manet

Elizabeth and Her German Garden by Elizabeth von Arnim (do not read if you don't like flowers)

The Road Through Miyama by Leila Philip (I've mentioned it before, it feels like this gif)

The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, I keep recommending this one but it's so nice and I love snails

Epicurean Simplicity, Stephanie Mills

The Light in the Dark: A winter journal by Horatio Clare

The Letters of Rachel Henning

The letters of Tove Jansson, also The Summer Book and Fair Play

The diary of Sylvia Townsend Warner—here's an entry where she describes some big cats at the zoo. "Frank and forthcoming, flirtatious carnivores, [...] guttersnipishly loveable"

The Letters of Rachel Carson & Dorothy Freeman were very sweet and a little bit gay. I mostly remember from this long book I read years ago that Rachel Carson once described herself as "retiring into her shell like a periwinkle at low tide" and once apologised to Dorothy because she had run out of apple-themed stationery.

Jane Austen's letters (quoting the synopsis, "Wiser than her critics, who were disappointed that her correspondence dwelt on gossip and the minutiae of everyday living, Austen understood the importance of "Little Matters," of the emotional and material details of individual lives shared with friends and family")

Madame de Sévigné's letters because obviously, and from the same time period, the letters of the Princess Palatine, Louis XIV's sister-in-law. I read them a long time ago and mostly I remember that I enjoyed her priorities. There's a letter where she complains that she hasn't received the sausages she was promised, and then in the next paragraph, mentions the plot to assassinate the King of England and also, the Tartars are walking on Vienna currently.

Wait I found it:

R.C. Sherriff's The Fortnight in September (quoting the author, "I wanted to write about simple, uncomplicated people doing normal things")

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, Betty Smith

Pond, Claire-Louise Bennett

Rules for Visiting, Jessica Francis Kane

The following aren't or aren't yet available in English, though some have already been translated in 5-6 languages:

ツバキ文具店 / La papeterie Tsubaki by ito Ogawa

半島へ / La péninsule aux 24 saisons by Mayumi Inaba

Giù la piazza non c'è nessuno, Dolores Prato (for a slightly more conceptual take on the "someone's everyday life" theme—I remember it as quite Proustian in its meticulousness, a bit like Nous les filles by Marie Rouanet which is much shorter and more lighthearted but shows the same extreme attention to childhood details)

Journal d'un homme heureux, Philippe Delerm, my favourite thing about this book is that the goodreads commenter who gave it the lowest rating complained that Delerm misidentified a wine as a grenache when actually it's a cabernet sauvignon. Important review!

Un automne à Kyôto, Corinne Atlan (I find her writing style so lovely)

oh and 西の魔女が死んだ / L’été de la sorcière by Kaho Nashiki —such a little Ghibli film of a book. There's a goodreads review that points out that Japanese slice-of-life films and books have "a certain way of describing small, everyday actions in a soothing, flawless manner that can either wear you out, or make you look at the world with a temporary glaze of calm contentment and introspective understanding [...]"

I'd be happy to get recommendations in this 'genre' as well :)

[psychicreadsgirl]

Pick a Novel: Keywords/prominent themes in your life

Pick the novel that draws your attention the most. If you can't decide between two, then look at the 2 readings. This is a general reading, so not everything will apply. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind!

#1

Keywords: love, lust, passion, fun, temperament, cafe, sweet, bicycle, pen, books, music, loyalty, winter, sofa, furniture, thoughts, light, intuition, soulmate, art, obsidian, cake, carbonated water, skincare, socks, cooking

Celebrities/Public Figures: Audrey Hepburn, Min Yoongi, IU, Claude Monet, Angela Merkel, Andrew Carnegie, John Johnson, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page, Howard Schultz, Sam Walton, Amancio Ortega, Queen Elizabeth I, Jane Austen, Jennie Kim

Countries: Italy, Canada, South Africa, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Greece, Madagascar, Qatar, Sweden, Zambia, Taiwan, Solomon Islands

Numbers: 11, 1, 5, 9, 80, 888, 6

Brands: Hermes, Tiffany, Apple, Instagram, Taobao, Lamborghini, Deloitte, Microsoft, Chopard, Givenchy, Patek Phillipe, Chloe, Alaia, Kraft,

Kpop songs: Young Forever by BTS, Shine by PENTAGON, Me Gustas Tu by GFRIEND, Run to You by DJ DOC, Love Lee by AKMU, Deja vu by TXT, Back Down by P1Harmony, Love shot by EXO

#2

Keywords: economy, job loss, new opportunities, play, drama, anger, frustration, lost, compass, computers, battery, feet, head, brain, summer, pearl, avocado, junk food, fried chicken, challenge, frugal

Celebrities/Public Figures: Grace Kelly, Billie Eilish, Keanu Reeves, Rosé, Jung Hoseok, Salma Hayek, Pablo Picasso, Princess Diana, Thomas Edison, Sergey Brin, Mary I, William Shakespeare, Lee Nayeon

Countries: New Zealand, USA, Maldives, Indonesia, United Kingdom, Venezuela, Lithuania, Nepal, Portugal, Poland, Lebanon, Mali, Netherlands

Numbers: 4, 99, 101, 33, 13, 14, 0

Brands: Masion Margiela, Amazon, facebook, Shein, PWC, Missoni, Moschino Couture, Toyota, citi bank, Chaumet, Polene, Pizza Hut,

Kpop songs: Love Dive by IVE, Shangri-la by VIXX, Sweety by Clazziquai, I NEED U by BTS, The Chaser by Infinite, Magnetic by ILLIT, My House by 2PM, ICY by ITZY

#3

Keywords: tales, gossip, lies, funny, movies, theatre, cell phone, cool, kpop, magenta, ancient, history, claws, cats, tiger, fall, jealousy, games, aquamarine, lemons, makeup, pencil, groceries

Celebrities/Public Figures: Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Morgan Freeman, Kim Seokjin, Jang Wonyoung, Matt Damon, Napoleon Bonaparte, Shinzo Abe, Steve Jobs, Voltaire, Kim Jisoo,

Countries: Ethiopia, France, Russia, Ireland, Argentina, Afghanistan, Libya, Rwanda, Nigeria, Pakistan, Morocco, Malta, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Iraq,

Numbers: 2, 7, 69, 25, 55, 79, 1182

Brands: Saint Laurent, miumiu, Starbucks, Mercedez-Benz, Nestle, Oracle, Tod's, Bulgari, Rolex, KFC, SUBWAY, Carrefour, Kellog's

Kpop songs: Supernova by aespa, Maestro by seventeen, Not by the moon by GOT7, Alone by Sistar, Hip by MAMAMOO, Good Day by IU, Bite Me by ENHYPEN, Work by ATEEZ, The Feels by TWICE

#4

Keywords: foreign, spicy, peppery, rice, no, objection, resistance, control, storms, thunderstorms, shower, tension, crush, pop, paper, mango, legs, fragrance, emerald, clothing rack, tomatoes, defeat,

Celebrities/Public Figures: Judy Garland, Margot Robbie, G-Dragon, Jeon Jungkook, Pharrell Williams, Emmanuel Macron, Bill Clinton, King Charles, Warren Buffet, Cleopatra, Kim Mingyu

Countries: South Korea, Philippines, Scotland, Spain, Albania, Guatemala, Malaysia, Iran, Romania, Honduras, Georgia, Croatia, Belgium, Czech Republic, Gambia, Guinea

Numbers: 31, 75, 412, 43, 486, 640

Brands: Chanel, Prada, Bentley, Gucci, Samsung, Disney, BMW, Hyundai, cisco, Van Cleefs & Arpels, Dior, Loro Piana, Shake Shack

Kpop songs: Gee by SNSD, If you by BIGBANG, Antifragile by LE SSERAFIM, Up and Down by EXID, OMG by NewJeans, Lion by (G)I-DLE, Hello by TREASURE,

#5

Keywords: death, mystery, mirror, reflection, shadow, black, grey, white, funeral, video, sprint, pool, gym, streets, metro, subway, chocolate, broken, knees, moon, ruby, surgery, teeth, race

Celebrities/Public Figures: Marilyn Monroe, Barack Obama, Kate Winslet, Kim Taehyung, Aamir Khan, Marie Antoinette, Elon Musk, Robert F Kennedy, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Edward VIII, Charles Dickens, Abraham Lincoln, Park Bogum,

Countries: North Korea, China, Vietnam, Brazil, Bangladesh, Cambodia, Germany, India, Israel, Laos, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Congo, Cuba, Egypt, Mongolia

Numbers: 3, 97, 17, 19, 52, 98

Brands: Ralph Lauren, Celine, Ferrari, Huawei, Uber, intel, UPS, Calvin Klein, Piaget, Guerlain, Berluti, Pepsi, Cadbury

Kpop songs: Shut down by Blackpink, Seven by Jeon Jungkook, God's Menu by Stray Kids, Love Love Love by Epik High, Very Nice by SEVENTEEN, Birthday by Jeon Somi, Psycho by Red Velvet,

#6

Keywords: travel, toxic, break away, departure, memory, dreams, truth, unveil, diary, journal, coffee, jacket, shoes, hands, social media, news, competition, autumn, diamonds, electricity, TV, cheat, fashion

Celebrities/Public Figures: Jane Birkin, Kim Jiwon, Gigi Hadid, Charlize Theron, Park Jimin, Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, Maximilien Robespierre, Bill Gates, Queen Elizabeth II, Vladimir Putin, Henry Ford, James Joyce, Lalisa Manobal

Countries: Japan, Australia, Mexico, Iceland, Finland, Eritrea, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cyprus, Bolivia, Botswana, Bahamas,

Numbers: 8, 646, 152, 37, 49, 22

Brands: Louis Vuitton, Lexus, Tesla, Fendi, Walmart, Nike, Siemens, Google, Cartier, Burberry, Ferragamo, Burger King, Unilever

Kpop songs: ROCKSTAR by LISA, Cherry bomb by NCT 127, Move by Taemin, Dramarama by MONSTA X, Love Scenario by iKON, Get a Guitar by RIIZE, Replay by SHINee, Candy Sugar Pop by ASTRO, Mr. Simple by Super Junior

[curiositydooropened]

Ranged • 02: Home

Finally, a day off. You're prepping for your best friend's barbecue when your partner starts pounding on your front door with news that brings you unease.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 5074

Warnings: very slowburn, this fic is episodic, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of death, cremation, scars, autopsies, etc.

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Fic Masterlist

---

Moodboard • 01: Firetower • 03: Bayou [Coming soon]

The pounding at your door nearly startled the wrapped gift from your hand. 

“Be right there!” You shouted and carefully tucked the card beneath crossed ribbon. 

With a huff, you made your way to the door. It was a challenge nowadays, hobbling on one foot, bracing yourself on the back of your couch and the buffet near the front door. The staircase was by-far the worst of it, especially when you were still on crutches. 

The pounding continued, a bit incessant and impatient, and you groaned. “Hold on! I’m in a boot!” 

The little cover over your peephole swung beneath your fingertips, and you strained to see your partner. His broad shoulders took up most of the frame, and his hair wagged as he checked both sides of your hallway. 

You unlocked the deadbolt and inched the door open. “Steve?”

“Les Joplin is dead.” Worry creased his brow.

You sighed and hobbled aside to let him in. Owens had called you with the bad news this morning. It was just a part of the gig. You can’t save everyone. You noticed Steve took these things harder than you’d been trained to.

Steve barreled past you, and until you saw the look of curiosity cross his features, you’d forgotten he’d never been to your apartment before. Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about the lace trimmed window treatments your mom had set up and the Pig-shaped cookie jar on the countertop. His fingertips grazed the couch upholstery and he took in your massive entertainment shelves before turning to size you up.

“I’m sorry, were you going somewhere?”

You tugged your cardigan a little closer, hem of your dress brushing your knee over your hideous boot. “It is our day off.”

He nodded, and you took a moment to survey his own outfit. An oversized sweater was emblazoned with red, white, and blue embroidery. Navy blue shorts barely covered the breadth of his hairy thighs. The way his hair stuck to his temples denoted he’d been out on a Sunday morning jog. 

“How’d you find out about Les?” You asked, hobbling back to the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 

Steve met you there, tutting about your bum leg as he reached over your head for a glass from the cabinet to fill for himself. “Owens left me a voicemail.” 

You watched the steady rise and fall of his Adam’s apple as he drank. A droplet fell from the corner of his lips and slid down the length of his jaw until he reached to wipe it up. 

“Joplin makes six in six months.” He frowned, turning the faucet on to rinse. 

You frowned, nodded. It was true, nearly all of the people you’d managed to life-flight out of Hell seemed to have died through some infection or surgical complications.

“Joplin had a broken leg.” Steve tapped at your boot with his toe. “You’re still alive.” 

You rolled your eyes. “He’d also been exposed to the elements for two days before we reached him. Vines had wrapped themselves around him. He could have been infected with the Blight and we just didn’t know.” 

“He was coherent!” Steve argued, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t find any of this fishy?”

The vulnerability in his gaze was rare, a softness that kicked something up within you, reminded you that this grumpy exterior cared and had compassion.

You chewed on your bottom lip and shrugged. “What do you want to do about it?” 

His shoulders seem to relax a little, and he leaned against your counter, crossing his ankles over one another. “I have someone looking into the autopsy of the Garcia brothers.”

You swallowed, remembering the smiling faces of the two boys as they held each other’s hand in the back of the ambulance. They’d died hours after pick-up. You shook your head. “They were cremated, remember? We can’t exhume any bodies.” 

Steve nodded. “I know. They’ve all been cremated. Les is being torched as we speak.” 

“Steve,” you groaned at his crudity, imaging the frail man with kind eyes being locked in an incinerator.

“Like I said, someone’s looking into it. I’m meeting them tonight.”

You broached your next question with caution. “Have you… spoken to Owens about this?”

Steve watched you, like a caged animal deciding whether or not it could trust the hand that feeds it. 

You understood the roots of his mistrust. You barely knew what he’d gone through, how complicated his tangles were with these government entities, but what little you did know seemed reason enough to question everything.

He cleared his throat, shook his head. “No, I want to have more solid evidence before I bring it to his attention.”

You nodded and opened your mouth to commend him when the antique cuckoo clock on your wall chimed 11. “Shit!”

Steve leapt back onto his feet, just as startled as you, and he side-stepped you as you grappled for the gift and wine bottle on the counter behind him. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry, but I’m late.” You said as you hobbled to your denim jacket and purse hanging near the front door. 

“You’re not driving, right?” He frowned.

You cursed again, reaching into your purse to procure your cell phone. 

“Who are you calling?”

“A cab,” you argued, shoving him out your door with full hands. The phone rang, wedged between your cheek and shoulder, and you fumbled in your bag for some keys. “Hold these,” you dumped the gifts into his outstretched hands.

“Hang up. I’ll drive you.” He sighed.

“Capital Cab Company, how can we help you today?”

“What?” You struggled with the key in the lock, and gaped at your partner when he gently removed your phone from your ear and ended the call.

“Let me drive you.”

—

A jagged scar sliced through toned and tanned thigh meat, deep, purple, fresh enough to thrust you back into that cold cave. You taste his blood in the air, feel his pulse slow against your chest. 

���So at what point were you going to tell me your partner was this scrumptious?” Your childhood best friend’s voice shook you back to reality.

Steve stood about a hundred feet away, thighs at eye-level and on-show in those tiny running shorts. His white tube socks were stained with flecks of mud and grass. He hugged one hand into his armpit, the other held a beer he’d barely drank since you all stepped into the backyard an hour earlier. 

“Or was that confidential information?” Sadie snickered, poking at your side.

You shushed her with a waved hand, trying not to let her see the way you warmed at the idea. You leaned forward in your lawn chair for another handful of potato chips from the card table teetering in front of you. “He is not… scrumptious.” 

Steve Harrington wasn’t a hunk. You’d seen him with toothpaste stuck to the corner of his mouth and dribbled down his sleep shirt. You watched him trip over his own shoelaces once. 

Sure, he took great care of his body. It was kind of in the job description. Neither of you could climb mountains or fight monsters if you’d let yourself go. And yeah, he possessed handsome features. He had a nice hairline and thick, full hair, rare for a man his age. The handful of times you’d seen his stubble grow in hadn’t made him look haggard.

You could admit there was a kindness in his eyes too, saved for incredibly special occasions.

“I honestly don’t know how you get any work done,” Michelle agreed, pouring herself another glass from the wine bottle you’d brought.

“I’d be taking every opportunity to climb him like a tree.” Tammie played with the pendant on her necklace, perched on her chair like she was waiting for him to look her direction.

You coughed, salty chip wedged somewhere in your esophagus.

Sadie saw your struggle and laughed, slipping your wine glass into a salty hand for relief.

“So tell us,” Rhonda leaned in, covering her mouth with her hand, “have you two ever…?” She waggled her eyebrows.

You sputtered wine back into your glass, and Sadie threw her head back in delight. 

You wiped the dribble from your chin and glared at your best friend. “Is this why you invited him in? So you and the girls could torment me?”

“Oh Pigeon, don’t be so dramatic,” Sadie pinched the flab under your arm and grinned. “I invited him in because I wanted to stare at those thighs. Think he’ll play volleyball if we put the net up?”

“Your husband is right there.” You gestured to poor, sweet Jeff, receding hairline and beer gut stretching his cotton polo. He drank his beer and flipped burgers and stared at Steve like he was just at smitten as his wife.

“He can join,” Sadie shrugged. 

This sent the other women in a fit of giggles and hoots. 

Steve met your gaze. Someone behind you must have waggled their fingers, because the corners of his lips quirked into a confused smile, and he extended a timid wave. 

You chewed on your cheeks to avoid laughing with them.

“I know we’ve been talking about those legs, but have you seen the size of his hands?” Tammie whispered into her wine glass.

“Oh I know, I’d like him to - “

“Alright,” you hoisted yourself from your lawn chair and hobbled away from the cackling women. The grass wasn’t ideal for your wobbly boot, but anywhere was better than the warmth radiating from your collar and the call of your best friend for you to return. 

Halfway across the yard, you stumbled on a rogue gopher hole, wine splashing from your glass and all over the front of the man who was conveniently there to catch you. Two large hands held you upright at your ribs.

“Why is it difficult for you to just sit and stay there?” Steve asked, chin and throat glistening with white wine. It soaked the top half of his sweatshirt.

Before you could apologize, the crew was on you, a flurry of mom’s pinching and doting, patting you both with paper towels. 

Steve waved them off so he could limp you back to your seat, pointing a warning finger your direction. “Stay there.”

“Steve, honey, let me throw that in the wash for you. I’m sure Jeff has something you can borrow.” Sadie shot you a salacious look before beckoning your partner in through the sliding glass door at the back of her house.

“Think they need help?” Rhonda snorted, and the rest of them started to holler again.

—

A summer thunderstorm forced the party indoors. Husbands toted drunk wives out the front door. The kids were hauled into the basement with popsicles and VHS rentals. Only a handful of party-goers remained, indulging in quiet conversation around Sadie’s immaculately floral living room. Her favorite record spun in the corner. 

“I’m worried about you, Pigeon,” she tapped at your knee above your boot and offered a glass of water. 

You accepted it and shrugged. “Hazards of the job. I survived, didn’t I?” You kneed her back.

She glanced around the room before she lowered her voice. “When Steve changed earlier, I saw those… scars. What exactly are you two fighting out there?” Her eyes were wide, full of worry, of fear. 

You felt it, too, sometimes. You thought about her a lot, about a life in a perfect suburban home with a picket fence. You wondered if you’d ever achieve that, too.

“Steve went through a lot before we recruited him.” It was the only explanation you could manage. 

You glanced at your partner. He stood in the kitchen, arms crossed over a too-small polo of Jeff’s in a horrid khaki green that still, somehow suited him. You wondered if he’d ever wanted the American Dream. You could imagine him hunched beneath a kitchen sink or flipping burgers outside. You could imagine him coming home after a long day’s work, dumping his briefcase in the hall closet, smelling the air for a home-cooked dinner. You imagined kids and a dog running to greet him.

“I just need you to be careful,” Sadie warned.

You blinked back into focus, and turned to see the look in her eye had changed. 

She nodded toward the kitchen, a knowing smirk playing at full lips.

“Sadie, thank you so much for inviting me. Are you sure it’s alright if Wyatt stays here tonight?” A voice from behind you pulled your best friend from her seat on the couch.

“Michelle, of course! Wyatt’s welcome anytime. Just call if you can’t pick him up tomorrow, I’ll have Jeff drive him home.” Sadie kissed her acquaintance on the cheek, bangles on her wrists jingling. 

Michelle said your name, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “It was really good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “You, too.”

She turned from you both and took a few steps before pausing and turning back to face you. “Okay, I know this is going to sound a bit… I dunno.” She waved off her words, insecurity oozing from a typically-poised frame.

Michelle was such a sweet woman, confident, beautiful. She worked with Jeff in radio advertising. She was a single mom. You’d never seen a hair of hers out of place, nor a pearled button. 

You glanced at Sadie, whose demeanor had gone rigid beside you.

“I just um… is there anything going on between you and Steve?”

You blinked back at her, your mouth going a little dry.

“I only ask because he and I had a really nice conversation earlier, and I wanted to give him my number, but I obviously would never step on your toes. I think the world of you. Also like, if it’d be weird at all, that’s totally understandable.” She was rambling now, her pale features tinged a bright red. 

Sadie was holding her breath beside you.

You blinked a few more times, processing the word vomit, and eventually your head shook itself. “No. Nope, no, huh uh. No. Um… no.” For God sake, anything else, say anything else. 

Sadie elbowed you.

You laughed. “Sorry, just um… Steve? Harrington?”

Michelle ducked her head and smiled, tucking a black curl behind her ear. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Chyeah, of course it is. That’s great, Michelle! That’s really great! I’ll put in a good word for you.” The words came out of you like they were flowing from someone else’s mouth. You felt paralyzed in your seat. Sadie’s claws were digging into the meat of your thigh. 

“Oh really? Oh that’d be amazing. Thanks so much. Well, wish me luck, I guess, then…” She let out a little eep like a school girl and waggled her fingers your direction before she turned to make a b-line to the kitchen. 

“You’ll put in a good word?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, smacking your friend’s hand away.

Steve stood up straight at Michelle’s approach, that stiff kindness meeting his eyes. He struck you a bit like Frankenstein’s monster, a man learning to be human again, movements stilted and face stuck in a scowl.

Michelle took something from her purse and placed it into his large hand, her own fingers lingering softly against his.

His throat turned a bit pink, and his ears, and it looked like he was fighting off a smile like it might hurt him. He nodded and said something back, and they ended their exchange with an awkward half-hug. Her curls caught on the bridge of his nose, his lashes. He met your gaze from across the room.

Then he jumped, apologized as the distinct bell of his cell phone chimed in his pocket.

Michelle left with one last excited wave to you girls, but you were already snapping your fingers for Sadie to grab you your purse from the coffee table. 

You dug for your phone, but by the time you flipped it open and dialed into voicemail, Steve was walking your direction. 

“Sadie, mind if I grab my sweatshirt?” He shot you a look and said, “We have to go.”

—

The rain thunked heavy on Steve’s windshield, wipers pulsing at a steady rhythm. The warmth of a far-off streetlamp cast reds and yellows across his silhouette and splashed across a bare kneecap.

You sat in a park parking lot. A swing set swayed in the wind a hundred or so yards to your left. A large hill jetted upwards at your center. Trees scattered the area. 

Steve’s car idled. The heater puffed warmth that smelled of leather and him, and the faintest sweet of white wine that Sadie’s natural detergent hadn’t managed to squeeze out of his sweatshirt. 

“Where are we?” You asked, glancing around the empty lot. 

The sun had dipped west an hour ago, just as you reversed out of Sadie’s driveway beside Jeff’s station wagon. 

“I don’t know,” Steve grumbled. His leg bounced, shaking the entire car with nervous energy. 

You had half a mind to slow his movements, the heat and the sway churning your motion-sick stomach, but the idea of clamping down on his muscled and hairy thigh had you thinking of the girls at the barbecue. You imagined each of them in the backseat of his car, oohing and chanting for you to quit being a baby and just do it.

So you sucked your cheeks between your teeth and stared directly ahead at the beading water on the windshield.

“So…” You breathed. “What did you think of Michelle?”

“Who?” Steve stopped his quake.

You sighed and looked back at him. “Michelle, from the party? Black hair, freckles, drop-dead gorgeous. She gave you her number at the end of the night?”

“Oh right,” he said, like that was the only indication he’d met this woman.

You blinked back at him, waiting for more elaboration. You should have known better. With another deep breath, you pushed a little further. “She wanted me to put in a good word.” 

“Okay,” and now he waited expectedly.

“What?” You frowned.

“Tell me something good about her.”

For the life of you, all you could muster was, “She’s a really good mom?”

Steve snorted, though his expression remained unamused. “Great, I’ll ask her to cut the crust off my sandwiches.” 

“No, that’s not…” You huffed, adjusting your sweating back against the leather seat. You grumbled and flicked off the heat, suddenly feeling the space around you void of air.

You sat in silence for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts, frustrated that the only image coming to mind was Michelle’s perfectly manicured nails clinging to Jeff’s polo collar. Steve’s hands held her close, sliding down to the seat of her jeans. 

Steve cleared his throat, and you blinked back to reality.

“I’m sure I can think of nicer things to say,” you managed to squeak out.

“I’m not going to date Michelle,” Steve spoke low and slow beside you, his voice warming you more than the heater had.

You glanced up at him, strong jaw and defined nose cut through warm lamplight. You pondered his tone, wondered how final it had felt, how far you could press. Maybe it’d be best to leave it there.

“This job doesn’t lend well to… a life.” His voice startled you again, information given before it was asked.

You didn’t dare respond, lips sealed, breath held.

He scratched at the stubble overgrown on his chin. “Doesn’t feel fair to get someone’s hopes up when I could be killed the next day.”

His name fell from your lips in a sigh, and he caught you gaze, lips quirked upward in a wry smile as he waved his words from the space between you.

“That’s just me though. I’m not like… putting that on you. Date a bunch of guys, if you want! Or one guy! Or one gal. I don’t care, I just um…” He coughed into his hand. 

You snorted and glanced back out the windshield at the lamplight and the rain. 

A shadow moved straight ahead, emerging from the hill top, bowed shoulders and a wide-brimmed hat. 

“Steve,” you nodded, reaching your hand into your bag for your concealed weapon. 

He adjusted himself upright, his own hand stopping your wrist. 

“Is that your guy?” You asked, heart thundering a little louder in your ear.

“I hope so,” he answered, and you both just waited. 

The figure seemed to sway down the hillside, walking at too slow a pace, darting through the tree line to be covered in shadow when he could. Finally, as he stepped into the warmth of lamplight and tilted his head to expose round cheeks, Steve released your wrist and dropped his shoulders in relief.

The door creaked and the pitter of rain against the asphalt deafened you for a moment as Steve stepped out to scold the contact. Both men spoke in hushed tones, gesturing wildly to you before admitting defeat and retreating to the safety of the car’s interior. The whole vehicle shook under their combined weight, and they brought with them the sweet smell of ozone. 

You eyed Steve, tendrils of his hair dripping onto scruffy cheekbones.

He grimaced and pushed his hair from his eyes, gesturing from you to the man in the seat behind him. “This is Dustin Henderson, Henderson, this is my partner.” He introduced you.

“My real name, Steve? Really?” Dustin snapped, pulling the fedora from wild curls.

Steve shrugged. “She didn’t know it was your real name until you just confirmed it, dipshit.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

You blinked back at a the two of them. There was no family resemblance, but they bickered like siblings, and you realized this was the largest glimpse you’d gained into Steve’s private life in the year you’d known him. You knew his parents’ names, that he grew up in Indiana. You knew he was captain of the swim team. You knew he enjoyed sports. You knew he knew far too much about the movie Labyrinth. You knew his go-to sit-in diner order (a cheeseburger with no onions and a strawberry shake). But somehow this connection, with this strange young man, was the greatest insight you had into who your partner really was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you extended a hand. 

Dustin Henderson smiled at that, a big, warm, round smile. His hand was cold and clammy from the rain, but the handshake was strong and firm. “Likewise,” he nodded. “Steve was right, you are a beautiful woman.”

“Hello? Can we talk about the autopsy reports?” Steve snapped his fingers to get you both back on track.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” Dustin hissed like a scolded middle schooler. He reached into the inside pocket of his oversized trench coat and pulled out a few pieces of paper. He handed half the pile to Steve and half to you. 

You squinted down at a handful of coroner’s reports, the names of the deceased all familiar to you. Les Joplin sat at the top of the pile. Cause of death: prolonged exposure. You swallowed and handed the paper over for Steve to read.

He shook his head. “So could you find anything?” 

Dustin tapped his fingers on the bottom of the pages. “All of these autopsy’s were done by the same man. No matter what part of the country these people were in, they brought in the same guy. George Humbolt.”

You thumbed through the remaining papers to find the signature he’d indicated. 

“George Humbolt no longer works for the United States government. He actually recently retired and bought a very large mansion in Key Largo. He was a very difficult man to track down, and when I called him earlier to ask him about the Garcia brothers, his phone line was disconnected.” Dustin explained through grit teeth.

You glanced up at the young man, peach fuzz barely cresting his upper lip. You wondered what got him into this life, if he’d been thrust into conspiracy theories chasing his older brother-figure. You wondered if he’d seen as many horrible things as Steve had, as you had. You hoped not. You hoped nothing would come of this snooping. You hoped he was being safe.

“Humbolt didn’t do Joplin’s,” Steve exchanged you papers again. In script, you could barely make out the name of a woman, Caroline Something. “Maybe we can track down the new person?”

“I did some digging into her too.” Dustin nodded. “Her supervisor is one Samuel Owens.”

You watched Steve’s expression shift, harden. You watched him watch you. You watched the trust fall from his eyes, wariness making his shoulders and jaw rigid.

He swallowed, nodded, folded the papers in his hands. “Well, Henderson, thanks for this, man. I think maybe it’d be wise to lay low for a little while.”

“Sure, man. You know I’m always careful though.” Dustin could sense the shift in his friend. His face seemed to screw up, too, in concern. He offered you a sad smile. 

Steve nodded, solemn, and cranked the heat again. The noise from the fan cut through the tension. “Do you need a ride home? How the Hell did you get out here?”

“Walked.” Dustin sighed and folded himself back into his seat, reaching for the seat belt.

—

The rain calmed to a soft sprinkle that dotted your cheeks. Droplets caught on your eyelashes and cast stardust in your vision under streetlights and the entrance to your apartment building. You blinked them away, keys jingling at your side as you let yourself in.

Steve held the door to let you hobble past, and he followed you in quiet silence onto the elevator.

You pressed the button to your floor and relaxed into the handrail, taking some weight off your aching foot in its boot.

Dustin had made sweet small talk on his way home, asking about your life and your interests. You’d learned he was a computer programmer. He had a pet turtle, and Steve was his best friend. 

When he exited the car, the two exchanged a cute handshake that Steve seemed nonplussed to reenact, despite both of them being silhouetted in the headlights.

Steve didn’t speak a word to you the rest of the way home.

“Thanks again for sticking with me at Sadie’s today. You really didn’t have to stay.” You said, voice hoarse, as you stepped off the elevator and onto your floor.

Your partner shrugged, rubbed at the back of his neck. “I had fun. Sorry about Henderson, by the way. He can be a bit…” 

“Endearing? Wholesome? Adorable?” You smiled.

Steve snorted. “I was going to say obnoxious, but I’ll tell him you said that. He’ll probably buy you flowers.” 

You hummed. “Flowers are nice, and so was he.” 

You put your keys into your lock and twisted. Steve was warm behind you, a towering presence of protection and safety. You thought of Sadie’s warning. Be careful. Never had you doubted where you stood with Steve. Even though he’d been a stranger to you, you never felt threatened, never felt afraid. 

You turned to look at him.

He swallowed, glanced down the hall. “Listen, I’m really sorry about today. Sometimes I can’t handle that I can’t save everyone, and I get a bit carried away.”

Your heart sunk, and you tilted your head to catch his gaze. His brown eyes were nervous. You shook your head. “No, you were right. Something weird is going on, and we’re going to figure it out. We can’t save everyone, but we can save someone.”

He took a few beats, searching for a falter in your certainty, searching for that trust in you, before he nodded.

A soft meow startled you apart, and your front door clicked open. Mrs. Song’s cat began rubbing his black and white butt against Steve’s ankle, purring loudly.

You both chuckled, clutching at startled chests before Steve leaned down to give the cat some much-needed pets.

Your heart pittered a little in your chest, and you found your face warming once again at the thought of Steve returning home after a long day’s work to greet his pets.

You cleared your throat and backed into your apartment, tossing your purse on the nearby hook and shrugging out of your jacket. “Well, goodnight. Thanks again for the ride.”

Steve stood up straight, all thick thighs and broad shoulders, cheeks pinched pink. He nodded. “Sure, no problem. Do you uh… do you need a ride to the office tomorrow?”

You tucked a hair behind your ear and shrugged. “Sure, um… sure, thanks.” 

He nodded again. “Alright, pick you up at 7:45?”

You nodded. You felt paralyzed in this moment.

Steve stood in the precipice of your doorway, the green of your wallpaper bringing out the green in his eyes. You thought back to the teasing words of the women at the barbecue. If any of them had a man like this in their doorway, they’d invite him in, offer him a drink, do anything but stand and stare and wonder what could be, hearts racing.

He wrapped his knuckles against the doorframe and pushed off, a smile quirking at the corner of his lips. “Alright, then. Night.”

“Night.” You managed.

He stumbled a bit around the cat during his turnaround and bent to give her one last little pat.

“Steve!”

He stopped and stood back up to look at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t let the job discourage you,” you released a shaky exhale.

He frowned, confused.

“From having a life,” you explained.

Realization flooded his features, but the two of you remained rooted to the spot. You thought of Dustin and his turtle, and of Sadie and Jeff and their sweet little home. You thought of kids screaming on the trampoline. You thought of all of these things you never thought you’d have, unsure if you wanted them, unsure where Steve stood, if you’d be dragging him down, stealing his happiness by dying on the field. Maybe that’s what happened to Robin…

You cleared your throat, smiled, nodded. “You should really call Michelle. She’s a really sweet person. She’s funny. She’s very intelligent. She makes excellent brownies. Her son, Wyatt, is a really cool kid, too. I think he’s in karate.”

Steve nodded, taking another step backwards into the hallway, spell-broken. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good.” You smiled. “Night.”

“Night.”

The peephole carved a divot into your forehead once the door was closed. 

---

Moodboard • 01: Firetower • 03: Bayou [Coming soon]

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

What do ikevill suitors smell like? PT.1

Hi little robins, I'm back with the "What do ___ suitors smell like?" series, Ikemen Villains edition. A promise is a promise so, here we have our favourite villanous boys. Let's discover the perfumes that our silly little cursed ones are most likely to wear. This is not entirely accurate - it's only based on their routes information and the vibe each boy gives me. Btw, this time I tried to put the same amount of perfumes on each boy.

William Rex

Our King of Hearts, The Self-Righteous Monarch, The King of Villains. As charming as he is ruthless. He wants people to express themselves. Eyes as red as his flags that will have you doing exactly what he wants. You can't fix him... But if you let him, he can absolutely make you worse. “Strip it all off… and fall into the darkness with me." He definitely smells intoxicating, almost like tempting you to fall into a dark world of sweet, poisonous sin.

Notes: Rose, strawberry, absinthe, incense, leather, patchouli, oud, amber and violet.

Perfumes he might like:

La Fille de Berlin - Serge Lutens - His favourite

Fate Man - Amouage

Back to Black - By Killian

Parfum Sacré - Caron

Noir Aphrodisiaque - By Killian - He layers this one with "La Fille de Berlin" when he goes out with you.

Portrait of a Lady - Frederic Malle

Harrison Gray

The Easygoing & Popular Lying Fox. The sweet-addicted book-lover. “I have the curse of the Lying Fox. You shouldn’t trust me so easily.” Shhh, you have a heart of gold. "With you, I can walk through the darkness forever... Because you are my sun.” Told you. He is just a silly playful fox who loves to tease you as much as he loves sweets and books. In his route he is always throwing minty caramels at us and eating sugar. So it feels safe to say that he smells like mint and sweets on top of a soft and woody base.

Notes: Heavy mint, bergamote, green apple, Tea leaves, lily of the valley, cardamom, light vanilla, cedarwood and white musk.

Perfumes he might like:

Eau de Minthé - Diptyque

Moscow mule - Juliette Has A Gun

Under the Lemon Trees - Maison Margiela

Herba Fresca - Guerlain

Wild Mint & Lavandin - Molton Brown - His favourite

White Jasmine & Mint - Jo Malone

Liam Evans

"Curiosity killed the cat. I wonder what'll end up killing me..." Our catboy depressed kitty. My precious boy. The Stage-Star. Someone who'll shower you in roses one moment and stab someone for you the next. That's love. He shines as bright as a star, charming those who see him without effort, he will do anything to win your praise, only yours. This sweet pookie smells like a field of flowers under the rain with a base of soft, sweet and warm vanilla.

Notes: Vanilla, pink pepper, violet leaves, cedarwood, jasmine, sandalwood, grey amber, musk and modern roses.

Perfumes he might like:

Daim Blond - Sarge Lutens

Grand Soir - Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Rose 31 - Le Labo

Spiritueuse Double Vanille - Guerlain - His favourite

Vanilla Cake - Montale

Velvet Vanilla - Mancera - He layers this one with "Spiritueuse Double Vanille" whenever he is going to see you.

Victor

The Man shrouded in mystery. The eccentric Crown's mom leader. Oh Rapunzel, let down your hair. I definitely need his hair routine, and probably you too. I don't know what else to say about him, I love this man more than I love myself. "Now, give into the darkness of your wicked heart" Whatever you want my dear. I feel like he is the "touch her and you die" type of boyfriend. A real provider. He even BAKES. And likes MAGIC TRICKS. AND HE DANCES!!!! Tell me something he can't do, I'll wait, and if you find something, I'll fight you. Anyways, back to the perfumes. He gives me the vibe of a gentleman with a luxurious and complex scent. I can feel warm, woody and sweet with some spice on top of a soft base.

Notes: Bergamot, black pepper, cinnamon, sandalwood, rose, oud, vanilla and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

Bois d'Armenie - Guerlain

Royal Oud - Creed

Interlude Man - Amouage - His favourite

Gentleman - Givenchy

Herod - Parfums de Marly

Orphéon - Diptyque

Roger Barel

He is called "The Egotistical Former Doctor" but it seems like those arms are in the middle, because I can't see the "egoistical" part. "He is selfish and has no regard for his own interests", okay, maybe he is a bit egoistical but... "The Queen's Cursed Forces, huh? No better research subjects than that.” We get it boy, you really want to study them so bad, and I volunteer as a tribute. As said, he is a doctor, so he is surrounded by chemicals, medicines and medicinal herbs, so he definitely like that, something aromatic and some spices. Since one of his hobbies is sampling imported beer, I thin we can all agree that he may smell also like alcohol and liqueur. He is manly, and so, he smells manly.

Notes: Black pepper, eucalyptus, thyme, liqueur, cedarwood, lavender, incense, leather and sandalwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Tam Dao - Diptyque

Terre d'Hermès - Hermès

Habit Rouge - Guerlain

The Cobra and The Canary - Imaginary Authors

Green Irish Tweed - Creed

Epic Man - Amouage - His favourite

Forest Lungs - The Nue Co.

Alfons Sylvatica

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all? The Hedonistic Thrill Seeker. Don't let all his eloquent smooth-talking fool you, he has an skilled and scheming tongue. "Greetings, Miss Robin. Would you care to indulge in a dream with me today?" As elusive as a phantom, he prioritises ephemeral pleasures above everything else. Perpetually dishonest, he'll play you for a fool… and with you like a toy… Although he has already seduced me, and probably all the robins reading this, I still feel like there's something wrong with this man. We really know nothing about him, he is presented as seductive and mysterious, but I can feel that's just the surface of the lake, in the depths there seems to be a profound loneliness and sadness. What makes me feel like this is his last name. "Sylvatica" comes from the cientific name for the "forget-me-not" flowers (Myosotis sylvatica). This blue little flowers represents true love. A symbol of fidelity and being truthful to someone you love. So yes, he might be a player, but with lots of issues in his soul, and, beacuse of that, I think he may smell seductive but drained down, with lots of sadness. Like a field of forget-me-not flowera drenched in rain water.

Notes: Forget-me-not, violets, herbs, aquatic and ozonic notes, vetiver, incense, leather, amber, vanilla and cedarwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Un Jardin Sur Le Nil - Hermès

Gypsy Water - Byredo

Lys 41 - Le Labo

Avignon - Comme des Garçons

Aoud Leather - Montale

The Language Of Glaciers - Imaginary Authors - His favourite

And here it ends pt.1!!! Stay tuned for pt.2 my loves. See you all little robins.

[blorbocedes]

did u see zak brown hand feeding lando norris i feel like this is content tailored just for u

it's very obvious to me that lando is the favorite of the zak brown twink farm, the apple of his eye, the persian purring on his lap. while the rest of arrow mclaren white boy brunettes esp in indy/le mans are treated like the reject clones, to be discarded at will

also get the feeling if lando ever tries to change teams, ZB would yellow wallpaper him

[arrestedexgirlfriendafterhigh]

*tears up*

just- the girls

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 15, 12 avril 1896, Paris. Robe en lainage rayé vert-de-gris. Robe en lainage beige. Robe en mohair bleu marine. Robe en taffetas gris. Modèles de chez Mmes Coussinet-Piret, rue Richer, 43. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Robe en lainage rayé vert-de-gris.

La jupe unie est faite en lainage rayé, la basque du corsage assez longue, plissée derrière, fendue plusieurs fois sur les hanches, s'écarte devant de façon à laisser voir un gilet long et pointu en soie côtelée crème, orné de petites poches encadrées de galons vert-de-gris. Le corsage est garni de larges revers en soie crème, encadrés de galons. On pose sur le gilet de la gaze crème, terminée au bord supérieur sous un nœud de gaze. le col droit est entouré d'une fraise en gaze. Les manches sont ornées de boutons.

Chapeau en crin blanc, garni de nœuds crème et de roses nuancées.

Verdigris striped wool dress.

The plain skirt is made of striped wool, the basque of the bodice is quite long, pleated at the back, slit several times at the hips, spreads at the front to reveal a long, pointed cardigan in cream ribbed silk, decorated with small framed pockets. verdigris braid. The bodice is trimmed with large cream silk lapels, framed with braid. Cream gauze is placed on the vest, finished at the upper edge under a gauze knot. the straight collar is surrounded by a gauze ruff. The sleeves are decorated with buttons.

White horsehair hat, trimmed with cream bows and shaded roses.

—

Robe en lainage beige.

Cette robe se compose d'une jupe unie et d'un corsage, plat derrière, froncé devant, terminé par une ceinture. Le corsage est orné devant d'un jabot en dentelle auquel se rattache un col avec ruche en gaze. Les autres garnitures du corsage se composent d'un col en perles brodé sur de la gaze, et de larges revers. Les manches sont garnies de ruches. Le chapeau, fait en paille satin beige, est orné de rubans beige et rouge.

Beige woolen dress.

This dress consists of a plain skirt and a bodice, flat at the back, gathered at the front, finished with a belt. The bodice is decorated in front with a lace frill to which a collar with a gauze ruffle is attached. Other bodice trimmings consist of a beaded collar embroidered on gauze, and wide lapels. The sleeves are trimmed with ruches. The hat, made of beige satin straw, is decorated with beige and red ribbons.

—

Robe en mohair bleu marine.

Robe en mohair bleu marine avec corsage plat et jupe à godets unie. Le corsage, terminé par une ceinture, est orné d'un plastron en guipure brodé de perles, encadré par des garnitures en gaze noire brodée de perles. Les manches sont ornées de revers semblables; le col droit est garni d'une fraise en dentelle.

Toque en tulle de soie noir, garnie d'une couronne de fleurs de pommier, et de rosaces en dentelle.

Navy blue mohair dress.

Navy mohair dress with flat bodice and solid godet skirt. The bodice, finished with a belt, is decorated with a guipure bib embroidered with pearls, framed by black gauze trims embroidered with pearls. The sleeves are decorated with similar cuffs; the straight collar is trimmed with a lace ruff.

Black silk tulle hat, garnished with a crown of apple blossoms and lace rosettes.

—

Robe en taffetas gris.

Cette robe, en taffetas gris, a une jupe large, fendue de chaque côté deux fois jusqu'aux hanches; les fentes sont remplies avec du taffetas gris plus foncé, plissé. Les bords de l'étoffe par devant, bordant les plis, sont ornés de boutonnières simulées et de boutons en nacre grise.

Le corsage est garni derrière d'une basque courte ondulée; il forme un corselet devant. Le bord supérieur du corsage par devant est couvert par de la soie fine plissée; on y pose en outre un morceau de passementerie terminé en pointe. Les manches sont ornées de revers en dentelle et de boutons; on fait retomber sur le col droit des morceaux de dentelle.

Chapeau rond en paille grise, garni de rubans gris et de plumes rouge ombrées.

Gray taffeta dress.

This dress, in gray taffeta, has a wide skirt, slit on each side twice to the hips; the slits are filled with darker gray, pleated taffeta. The edges of the fabric at the front, bordering the pleats, are decorated with simulated buttonholes and gray mother-of-pearl buttons.

The bodice is trimmed behind with a short wavy basque; it forms a corselet in front. The upper edge of the front bodice is covered by fine pleated silk; a piece of trimmings finished in a point is also placed on it. The sleeves are decorated with lace cuffs and buttons; pieces of lace are placed on the right collar.

Round gray straw hat, trimmed with gray ribbons and ombré red feathers.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 23

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

You set out your ingredients, trying to strategize what to do first. You have ideas, lots of ideas, and that sort of anxious motivation that keeps you from sitting still. Maybe it’s a need for distraction from the sudden swerve your life has taken, or your incessant urge to do everything for everyone, or maybe it’s just easier to lie when you look busy.

You don’t owe Lloyd the truth. The more you think about it, you barely really know him. And he said it himself, it’s just sex. Good sex. The best sex you’ve had, not that you have much to compare it to. So fuck your feelings, as he’d so eloquently proclaim.

Scones first. You’ve settled on a white chocolate and cranberry, but think that might be better kept until the festive season. You’re still in the throes of fall so the pumpkin walnut squares will like be the bigger hit. Oh, and the maple croissants. If you have time, you might experiment with some apple caramel creation too.

You prop your phone against the wall at the back of the counter. You put your music on a low din, keeping a base recipe open as you begin your first bowl of batter. The flour puffs out of the bake and dusts your shirt. Too late to remember the apron.

You add the rest of the dry ingredients and carefully stir. You bought a whole set of mixing bowls after you noticed Lloyd’s lack of essentials. You’ll see if you can expense that out with the ingredients. Your surprise might not go over well for your wallet.

You add the butter and carefully mix it in until crumbly. You put that in the fridge and start on the wet ingredients, humming as you focus on the little tasks. It’s easier than thinking of anything else.

Your fatigue nips at your eyelids. It’s been a long day and with all this ahead of you, it’ll be a longer night. You yawn and flick your wrist, whisking the cream and eggs diligently. You feel something tickle up your back before two hands settle on your hips. 

You lurch in fright and still the whisk as Lloyd leans into you, peeking over your head. He drones and rubs his crotch against your ass. He clicks his tongue as he brings his hands up to fondle your chest.

“You’re making another mess,” he says as he flicks the bag of sugar, “Really living up to the whole sugar tits thing.”

“Oh, I’ll clean it up,” you try to ignore how he kneads your tits.

“Hope this isn’t all for me,” he growls.

“Actually, no,” your pulse piques as you summon your preconceived lie, “it’s for the kids. At the daycare. Just doing something nice.”

“Mmm, you’re so nice, Mimi,” he lilts his tone mockingly, “you wanna be nice to me, mommy?”

“Lloyd,” you push your elbow back into his side, “please. Later.”

He exhales, ot breath fanning over your scalp. He bends to nuzzle your head, gritting in his throat. “I’m not asking.”

You stiffen and grip the whisk, putting it back into motion.

“I’ll be done in a bit, I really can’t let this rest–”

“Something’s up. You’re not telling me something…” he brings his hand back to your waist.

“I’m baking. What would I lie about?”

“Come on,” he grinds into you, “you know our deal.”

“It can’t wait?” You clang the whisk off the side of the bowl.

“No,” he says firmly. “I’m tired of waiting and lately, you’ve been making me do a lot of that.”

He pulls you back and you let go of the whisk as it clinks against the metal. He leads you back as you latch onto his wrists, trying not to lose your balance. He spins you to face the island and crushes you against it.

“Lloyd,” you squeeze his forearms, “you’re being… pushy. Please, let me at least put everything away–”

“No,” he snarls and twists free of your grasp.

He grabs your wrists and brings your hands up to the marble countertop. He presses your palms flat under his large and leans his weight on you, a warning. Suddenly, you’re all too aware of his strength and size.

He nuzzles behind your ear as he growls again, “don’t move, mimi.”

“Lloyd,” you push your fingertips into the marble and try to shove yourself back. 

He keeps you penned in as he trails a hand up your arm. You reach up to follow his touch, brushing your fingers along his bicep as he curls it around your neck. You raise your chin to keep from being strangled. What the hell is he doing?

“Please, give me some space,” you feel the panic surge in your veins, so hot it beads over your brow, “I’m a bit claustro–”

He hushes you as he flexes his bicep against your neck. You gulp as your eyes round and you stare at the pristine walls. You shudder in horror as your powerlessness sets in. Not only in that moment. This man holds your life in his closed fist.

“I won’t be long, sugar tits,” his other hand creeps back and he feels along your side and hip. He curls his fingers beneath the back of your pants and tugs, yanking harshly until the button pops loose. “Something about the whole mother hen shit gets me going.”

“Lloyd,” you eke out, eyes wetting as you quiver, “please, I don’t want this right now.”

“That’s too fucking bad. That’s not our deal.”

“Wha– No–”

“Shhh,” he forces your pants down roughly as he kicks your feet apart, “if you’re not screaming my name, keep your mouth shut.”

Your body locks up in terror. You can’t make a noise, you can’t move as he peels down your panties. You’re trapped in the heat of his body and the crush of his weight. This can’t be happening.

You close your eyes, blocking out the kitchen, trying to tune out your reality. Your ears zero in on the low drone of music still buzzing from your phone.

Go on and be a big girl You asked for this now Go on and be a big girl Well, everybody's gonna drown you out

[probablyasocialecologist]

Far-right politicians with an explicit history of antisemitism, such as Marine Le Pen, have been praised in recent months for their support of Israel and virulently anti-Muslim sentiment. On November 15th, Elon Musk tweeted out his support for the “great replacement theory”—the idea that Jewish people are engineering white genocide—leading to condemnations from the White House, and from X advertisers such as Apple and Disney. On November 17th, Musk announced an X ban on pro-Palestinian phrases like “from the river to the sea,” which he characterized as antisemitic hate speech. Minutes after the announcement, Jonathan Greenblatt, Director of the ADL, logged on to express his gratitude to Musk, writing: “I appreciate this leadership in fighting hate.”  In a recent article for the far-right Washington Free Beacon, provocatively titled “What Makes Hamas Worse Than the Nazis,”  bestselling British historian Andrew Roberts mounts a rousing defense of Nazism, ostensibly in the name of condemning antisemitism. Although the Nazi government began systematically murdering disabled and queer people even before the start of the war, Roberts insists that their operations were incidentally rather than deliberately sadistic, and that the majority of German people during the war opposed mass murder. If his aim is clearly to demonize the cause of Palestinian liberation as a whole, his exoneration of European fascism as “just following orders” is no less central of a claim. By conflating “antisemitism,” “genocide,” and even “Nazism” with Palestine, Hamas, and Islam as a whole, this kind of historical revisionism works to redeem the European far-right as inherently civilized even in its most barbaric actions.  Any attempt to adopt a more humanist perspective, to take a longer or wider lens on the annihilation of Europe’s Jewish communities, or to relate their struggles and suffering to the struggles and suffering of others would appear to betray the ethos of post-Holocaust Jewishness. Aimé Césaire and Frantz Fanon both famously argued that the extreme state violence of fascism and the Holocaust was an imperialist backlash, the excesses of colonial violence returning home, only shocking in that it took place on European soil. In his introduction to Modernity and the Holocaust, Zygmunt Bauman describes the insistence on the uniqueness of the Holocaust as a form of historical decontextualization. Or, more plainly, as a refusal to engage in collective self-reflection. “One way is to present the Holocaust as something that happened to the Jews; as an event in Jewish history. This makes the Holocaust unique, comfortably uncharacteristic and sociologically inconsequential.” Bauman asserts that the underlying rationale for this circular logic, by which abstracted antisemitism is both sole cause and sole effect of the Holocaust, is collective exoneration. It works as a shield for modern European civilization, capable of outliving such atrocities.

[...]

It is not incidental then that, in line with right-wing ideological programs, the mainstream current of Holocaust narratives primarily encourage identification with the perpetrators rather than with the victims. They are propelled by the cause of personal enlightenment, encouraging the reader to look within for evil and to root it out rather than ever looking outward at the world surrounding them. Evil, this version of history would have you believe, is a personal problem and not a systemic one. It can crystallize through a mysterious process into mass evil, a spiritual rot. This gives it a kind of mystical aspect. It is easier from this perspective to believe in the innate evil of some, in the innate goodness of others. This moral binary is frequently mobilized in defense of violence and injustice. In a deleted tweet, Netanyahu called Israel’s ongoing genocidal attack on Gaza “a war between the children of light and the children of darkness.” In a December 2023 speech, Joe Biden reaffirmed his condemnation of Hamas, which he implicitly collapsed into a condemnation of Palestinians as a whole, calling them “a brutal, ugly, inhumane people, and they have to be eliminated.” Both were invoking this moral binary, the deformed vocabulary of white supremacy and colonialism. For if the world is made up of people who are “good” and “bad,” “civilized” and “barbaric,” rather than of societies shaped by ideologies, then it is possible to characterize an entire group of people as evil, to dehumanize them, to declare them guilty all the way down to their newborn babies, to justify their mass murder. In broader terms, this is a totalizing story about history; one in which the European perpetrators of wars of aggression, ethnic cleansing, and genocide, can redeem themselves by retelling their crimes but this time as witnesses to horror rather than as active participants. They can atone and wash away the sin of what they have done by giving it a narrative structure with an ending and a moral lesson, one in which the Holocaust finds its silver lining in the creation of the state of Israel, one in which Europe becomes civilized again, one in which blame is shifted from Germany to Palestine, and from fascists to anti-fascists. 

[danikamariewrites]

Hello there saw you wanted some requests for Gavriel so here it is, could you right something with a reader who loves horse back riding and often goes alone to explore the woods for fun or just to decompress after a long week, but on one of these rides reader gets ambushed and when they dont come home Gavriel knows somthing is wrong and eventually finds them( if you could also add the Cadre helping Gavriel find reader).

Hope this request finds you in good health happy writing!

Light in the Dark

Gavriel x reader

A/n: I added Aedion as part of the Cadre lol. I love the relationship between Gav and Fenrys and imagine that he and Aedion would be like brothers so I threw that in there too. Thank you for the request anon!

Warnings: angst, fluff, and unedited lol

You love going horseback riding through Oakwald Forest. The fresh air helps you think and calm your anxieties from the day. Sometimes Gavriel would go with you as a silent companion. Sometimes he’d walk beside you in his lion form. He could feel when you were stressed through the bond and reminds you to go on rides.

He always encouraged you to take breaks, saying you wouldn’t get good work done if you couldn’t focus. And as always, he was right. Throwing your pen down on your desk you stand and stretch. You had been working for too long and policies have started blending together.

You tug on the bond to get Gavriel’s attention, sending a message to tell him you were going for a ride. He flooded the bond with love. You could distantly hear him say, “Be careful, my heart. I’ll see you soon.”

Approaching your horse’s stall you heard Clara huff, scrapping her hoof against the hay that lines her stall. Peeking over the door you smile at her. “Hi girl, I brought you a treat.” You hold out an apple in the palm of your hand that Clara chomps down on immediately.

While she’s busy with her snack you start to brush Clara’s golden mane. She’s so beautiful, you could just stay here and brush her silky hair. The stable boys always insist on prepping her for rides but you like doing it yourself. It makes you feel like you did something productive.

Clara was a gift from Gavriel when you first started working in Aelin’s court. She’s well taken care of in the stables at the castle. And you love that you get to visit her whenever you want.

Strapping the saddle on her back you lead Clara out of the barn to the courtyard. Mounting her you lightly dig your heels into her sides to get her moving. Starting off at a walk you head off for Oakwald.

An hour into your ride you pull on Clara’s reigns bringing her to a stop. You look around confused. You should be at the lake by now. Where are you? Clara knows where she’s going, so why were you lost? You slip off the saddle to look around for landmarks that might tell you where you are.

A groan that sounded like a tree breaking echoed through the small space. You covered your ears waiting for it to be over. Darkness rolled in above the tree and the wind howled. Clara tensed, throwing her head back letting out a neigh that was practically a scream. She turned on her hind legs and started booking it out of the forest.

“Clara! No! Come back!” You start running after her until an invisible force hits you square in the chest knocking you to the ground. Gasping for breath you sit up on your knees. You whip your head around wildly looking for the source of your attacker.

A misty dark mass takes shape in front of you. It’s only discernible feature two white glowing eyes. Your eyes go wide, watching the darkness swirl in and out. You feel frozen. The darkness moves forming an arm, extending it toward you. Fingers separate and close around your throat. A chill runs through your body before your vision blurs and you fall into a deep sleep.

——

As Gavriel’s meeting with Rowan and his advisors, he pulls on the bond. It’s quite on your end. He tugs harder and floods the bond with concern and love. No response again. Worry takes over his features as he leans back in his chair, Gavriel’s knuckles turn white from how hard he’s clenching his knuckles.

He jumps a little at the feeling of Rowan’s hand on his shoulder. “What is it?” His tone hushed as the rest of the Cadre file in. “It’s y/n. She’s there but…I can’t feel her.” Rowan bites his lip in thought, a small frown forming.

Lorcan sits on Gavriel’s other side. “I have a bad feeling. Y/n never does this.”

“Do you want to ask if anyone in the stables has seen her?” “Please, thank you Fenrys.” The white wolf nods, leaving the room at a hurried pace. He’s like a son to Gavriel, meaning that he’s very protective of you. Aedion and Fenrys were the first two people Gavriel introduced you too. He knew both would go to the ends of the earth to protect you. You were growing to be a mother-figure for both of them so gods forbid any harm come to you.

While waiting for Fenrys to return Rowan and Lorcan talk him through where you could possibly be. He lists them all, talking through the steps you take and what you like to do.

Taking a break, Gavriel looks out the window and notices the late afternoon sun. It’ll be dark in a few hours. He wouldn’t be able to do anything if you weren’t home for dinner. He’s considering going out in his lion form to search for you when Fenrys comes barging back into the meeting room.

The young pups face is wild with rage and worry. “No one has seen her. And Clara isn’t in her stall.” He growls out. The three males turn to Gavriel, waiting for orders. Aedion comes flying into the room seconds later, slightly panting, his chest moving quickly. He could smell the fear and anger rolling of Fenrys as he ran through the castle.

“What’s going on? I saw Fenrys running and knew something was wrong.” “Y/n is missing. We don’t know where she is and no one has seen her.” Aedion’s eyes meet his father’s. Worry simmering in those Ashryver blue-greens. He stands straight, his hands clasped behind his back. “What do you want us to do dad?”

“Follow me.” He said storming out of the room and down to the stables. The Cadre followed, ready to follow his command.

The plan is to split up to search different sections of Oakwald that you like to explore. Lorcan and Aedion mounted their horses and headed east. Rowan transformed into a hawk to look overhead and covering as much ground as possible. Fenrys transformed into a wolf and headed west while Gavriel headed north to the lake.

He didn’t transform yet, he was just focused on getting as far as he could to find you. Gavriel squinted as he approached a clearing. A wall of darkness between trees separated a section from the rest of the forest. He heard rustling from all sides and drew his sword.

Rowan landed first, then Lorcan and Aedion emerged, and then Fenrys holding the reins of your horse. “Clara?” He whispered, reaching out to stroke her snout. “I found her wandering then she noticed me and pulled me back here.”

“My shadows found the wall a half mile that way. I sent them in to try and find her.” Gavriel felt the blood leave his face. His eyes went wide as he turned back to the swirling mass. Reaching out a reluctant hand, Gavriel touched the darkness. He expected resistance but his hand fell through. Stumbling a little he righted himself, taking a deep breath he formulated a new plan.

The bond was glowing making his protective fae instincts kick in. His mate was in danger and he had to go in there.

“Gavriel,” Rowan says cautiously. Before they could talk Gavriel out of his new plan he leapt into the darkness. Without thinking Fenrys and Aedion followed, leaving Rowan and Lorcan to keep watch.

Fenrys and Aedion flank Gavriel, drawing their own swords. “We stick together.” Gavriel says as he steps further into the woods. It feels like hours before there’s any sign of you. Gavriel sniffs the air picking up your scent.

He starts running until he’s skidding to a stop. Dropping to his knees Gavriel pulls you into his arms from your spot in the brush. He presses his ear to your chest to make sure your heart is still beating. The bond humming with joy at the fact you were reunited. Gavriel’s only focus now is to get you back to the castle.

——

When you came to your head was pounding, your vision swimming in and out. You let out a groan and you hear Gavriel scramble to sit on the edge of the bed. “My heart, are you alright? Can I get you anything?” “Water,” you croak out. He moves to grab the glass of water from the bedside table.

Helping you up Gavriel holds the glass to your lips. You gulp the water down like you’d never have any again. Letting the glass go you slump into Gavriel’s side.

“What happened?” Gavriel lays you back down, fluffing your pillows. “We aren’t exactly sure. Lorcan and Rowan found that phantom-thing and chased it down. They lost it but the guards are on the look out for it and Aelin has the little folk keeping their eyes out too. The healers checked you out and your ok, just cold for a while which scared me.”

You gave him a small smile, bringing your hand to cup his face. “I’m sorry I scared you.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” “But you did find me. And brought me home, like you always do.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah, and I will for the rest of our lives.” You pull him closer to you for a kiss. You break apart at a soft knock on the door. Gavriel sighs, tilting his head back in annoyance. You giggle at him. “Fenrys and Aedion want to see you. They’ve been worried about you and want to see you.” You let out a small aww.

When you and Gavriel first started dating you jokingly called and treated Aedion and Fenrys sons. You are older than both of them so they viewed you as a mother figure, always coming to you for advice over Gavriel and hanging out with you when he was out on missions.

When you accepted the mating bond you asked Aedion if he would be ok with you officially adopting him, even though he’s an adult, you just wanted him to know that he was part of your family. Since the bond the two boys have been very protective of you.

“Let my boys in.” You sit up as Gavriel begrudgingly opens the door. You heard him give them a stern warning before they entered quieter than usual. “Hi y/n.” “Hi boys. Come, sit with me.” You pat the bed and they happily jump up.

Gavriel slides in next to you, a gentle arm, wrapping around your shoulder. You love moments like these where your family is together and safe. You squeeze Gavriel’s hand as a thank you. For bringing you home and always looking out for you.

[yuurei20]

Rook nickname compilation, English vs Japanese vs French

Grim JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Kemukujara JP Meaning: Monsieur Thick Fur

NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Peluche JP Meaning: Monsieur Plush

(Both the pronunciation and meaning were changed on NA for Grim, as well as for Jade Floyd, Jamil, and Epel)

Prefect JP/NA Pronunciation/Meaning: Trickster

Neige JP/NA Pronunciation: Roi des Neiges JP Meaning: King of White Snow

Ace / Deuce JP/NA Pronunciation/Meaning: Monsieur Heart JP/NA Pronunciation/Meaning: Monsieur Spade

Cater NA/JP Pronunciation/Meaning: Monsieur Magicam

Riddle JP/NA Pronunciation: Roi des Roses

("de" during the Phantom Bride event, but that may have been a mistake)

JP/NA Meaning: King of Roses

Trey JP Pronunciation: Bara no chevalier NA Pronunciation: Chevalier des roses

JP/NA Meaning: Knight of Roses

(While both Trey and Riddle have "roses" in the meaning of their nicknames, Riddle's is translated while Trey's is not: his "roses" pronunciation is in Japanese)

Leona JP/NA Pronunciation: Roi des lions JP/NA Meaning: King of Lions

Ruggie JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Tanpopo NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Dent-de-lion

JP/NA Meaning: Monsieur Dandelion

(NA gets a pun, as "dent-de-lion" is French for dandelion but literally means "tooth of the lion")

Jack JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Tough Guy NA Pronunciation: Monsieur fier-a-bras (should be fier-à-bras)

NA Meaning: Monsieur Braggart 

Floyd JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Yukai-Han JP Meaning: Monsieur "Joyous crime (a crime perpetrated out of enjoyment of the commotion that follows)

NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Spontané NA Meaning: Monsieur Spontaneous

Jade JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Keikaku-Han NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Prémédité

JP Meaning: Monsieur Premeditated/Deliberate Crime NA Meaning: Monsieur Premeditated

Azul JP Pronunciation: this is possibly incorrect French, and sounds like it could be either "Roi de fort" (which should be Roi du fort) or "Roi d'effort” NA Pronunciation: Roi de Fort during a vignette, Roi de l'Effort during Beanfest

JP/NA Meaning: King of Effort

Kalim JP Pronunciation: possibly incorrect French, and sounds like it could be "Roi d'or NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Dore / Doré

JP/NA Meaning: King of Gold / Golden King

(The pronunciation (ドゥール) does not match d'or (ドル) or doré (ドレ) ("dore" is not a word) so it is a mystery)

Jamil JP Pronunciation/Meaning: Monsieur Multi NA Pronunciation/Meaning: Monsieur Pyramide

Vil JP/NA Pronunciation: Roi du Poison JP/NA Meaning: King of Poison

(Vil is the only person for whom Rook does not use an honorific, using "-kun" for all other characters when using first names, which he does often.)

Rook JP/NA Pronunciation: le Chasseur d'Amour JP/NA Meaning: the hunter of love

Epel JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Hime-Ringo (Literally: Monsieur princess apple) NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Pommette

JP Meaning: Monsieur Crab Apple NA Meaning: the part of the cheek that rises up when you smile, this can also be interpreted as an apple pun (pomme = apple)

Idia JP Pronunciation: possibly incorrect French, sounds like it could be "Roi de te chambre" NA Pronunciation: Roi de sa chambre

JP Meaning: King of one's own room NA Meaning: King of his own room

Ortho (until Book 6) JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Oningyou NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Marionette

JP Meaning: Monsieur Doll

Ortho (after Book 6) JP/NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Wonder JP Meaning: Monsieur Miracle

Lilia JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Koukishin NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Curiosité

JP/NA Meaning: Monsieur Curiosity

Malleus JP/NA Pronunciation: Roi des dragons JP/NA Meaning: King of dragons

Sebek JP/NA/Pronunciation/Meaning: Monsieur Crocodile

Silver JP Pronunciation: Monsieur Onebou NA Pronunciation: Monsieur Endormi

JP Meaning: Monsieur Sleepyhead NA Meaning: Monsieur Asleep

[incorrect-riordanverse]

Riordanverse Characters as quotes by people i know have said

dedicated to @lord-of-pterodactyls, i know you asked for friends in particular but i’m broadening it as even people i consider my nemeses (old ass philosophy teacher) are funny

Percy: i truly feel as if nothing will ever incapsulate my being as truly as the singing monsters water wubbox

Annabeth: *screaming from adjoining room* GET LOST APPLE MUSIC PRIVACY

Piper: *in bikini* i don’t like people with big boobs

Jason: *trying to compliment piper* your hair looks like dementia

Leo: *emerging from the stinky depths of his room after being in there for 16 hours straight and no showers with clothes from 5 days ago, red scabs all over his body and lips so dry it looks like a snake shedding its old skin by how crusty it is* guys on a scale from 1 to 10 how sexy do i look rn?

Hazel: *yeets her foot out and jiggles her toes menacingly at people she dislikes as an intimidation tactic because her toes are particularly hideous*

Frank: *after literally being targeted by a racial ‘joke’* worse than that, you white people eat spam

Grover: *pats air purifier* a good trusted friend

Nico: *drifts into hazel’s room* bro i ain’t even gonna lie, the holidays are better than the black plague *leaves room before she can question him further*

Reyna: *sleeptalking* stallion le meghan

Rachel: *pretending her coloured markers are vapes*

Thalia: *pointing at luke* my bro be the victim and the perpetrator

Tyson: *when talking about doing math* all i have are my fingers and a dream

Clarisse: *sees a sick person in bed* you’re looking pretty vulnerable *proceeds to ransack their room and steal their sheets like some gremlin*

Octavian: i am THE riddler *speaks in riddler voice and puts on devious little expression* what is... a curtain?

Will: *sees a dying person and looks pointedly at nico* and thats because they didnt take their cenovis vitamin c

Luke: i am constantly one snap away from either committing homicide or suicide

Apollo: *feeling face after new skincare routine* gosh my face feels as soft as a silicone tit

Meg: *pointing at apollo after redemption arc* YOU WON’T GO TO HEAVEN BECAUSE YOU ARE A COMMUNIST!

Magnus: *eating falafel* this is an orgasmic experience

Samirah: *substituting random words in english for arabic and not realising no one understands what she’s saying*

Alex: *laughing at the death threats she gets online after posting a meme about BTS in the military*

Blitz: *does something naughty* omg sorry im such a libra（＾ν＾）

Hearth: *walks into room* god is dead.

Carter: *walking into sadie’s room visibly upset with a box of cadbury favourites* here take them. if you don’t im going to eat them all. please, dont make me do this

Sadie: take a shit and be late to school or dont take the shit and be on time hell loop

Zia: my top artist on spotify this year will be xi jinping’s wife

Walt: *simply, appreciatively and completely without context* yeah, buddha is a pretty amazing guy

Anubis: i dislike being emo because i can only go as death note characters for halloween

Bast: *absolutely entranced by watching love island uk and is just repeating everything any person says back in a treacherous essex accent*

Bes: *walking into classroom full of young teens with an oversized ‘free james assange’ shirt* today i am a nice, trendy leftist. tomorrow, who knows?

[italoniponic]

Someday We'll Meet Again | Neige Le Blanche

Synopsis: VDC day! Neige made it to NRC but he accidentally got lost inside the school. The more he wanders around the dark corridors, the more he feels inside a forest about to attack him. When he manages to reach the courtyard for air, he encounters you — the rescuer he needed to calm down. And maybe something more.

Neige Le Blanche x reader / hurt & comfort / fluff / lots of Snow White (1937) references / tw: little anxiety inducing in the beginning / 5,4k words / use of “you” pronouns / Masterlist

Someday We'll Meet Again

“I’m lost, completely lost,” Neige thought to himself, swallowing hard. All he saw were hallways and more hallways, black stone walls, lamps and students in black blazers and gym clothes going back and forth working on the internal preparations for the VDC.

When Neige was escorted into Night Raven College by a student from the organizing committee, the plan was that he and his seven little friends would be driven directly to the Coliseum where the competition would take place.

But those eight RSA students, so unaccustomed to going so deep into the rival school, were distracted by impressive details of the campus that they missed their driver — and the poor fellow, Riddle pity his head, was so anxious about the preparations and a thousand other things in his mind that he only realized the problem later.

As if things could get worse, soon the seven brothers got lost from Neige himself and the boy wandered alone inside the castle itself, not sure where he was going. 

Last year’s VDC had been at another school and Neige went as a simple helper to some RSA culture clubs. That year, however, the director himself chose him to star in the spotlight and hopefully bring victory to the Academy in the music championship. 

The song they chose was perfectly etched in Neige’s mind, almost like every song he’s ever sung and his favorite apple pie recipes. Dancing wouldn’t be a problem either. The problem was that he wasn’t at all prepared to wander NRC inside, without the slightest notion whether he was going forward or backward.

Neige was almost certain that what he was doing was forbidden and wrong. This feeling was made worse by passing by students repairing signs, setting up tent strips beforehand and carrying all kinds of materials they needed for what they were going to set up. It was the students job and he wasn’t supposed to interfere or see behind the scenes.

That and the pressure in the air he was feeling. 

Perhaps it was the height of the ceiling relative to the floor, the color of the walls and the subtly gloomy coldness of the corridors, but the air seemed extremely heavy. Suffocating. Neige walked calmly and cautiously, looking around patiently to try to figure out where to turn.

However, when he met the eyes of a random NRC student, said young man seemed angry at his presence there. He was right. He was spoiling the magic of the event by “snooping” backstage — even if he was in this situation for nothing more than a terrible oversight. Neige didn’t want to make anyone angry, so he tried not to pay attention to what they were doing.

Why did the walls seem to compress over him, however? Eyes and more eyes turned in his direction, following his step with intensity. They looked like crows gathering in a flock, watching fresh meat in the open.

Neige shook his head quickly. They weren’t crows! Technically, they should be ravens. And the birds themselves weren’t as bad as some people thought. He tried to calm down a little, thinking about what he had read about crows once. Neige was looking for a book about horses but got lost in the middle of his own search in the library.

He liked to get lost, didn’t he? He needed to be more careful with himself. That’s what his mother always said. She wouldn’t always be there for him to help all the time, nor could she with her failing health. Neige should take care of things on his own, like a good young adult.

Well, he was already alone at that moment.

“What was I... trying to remember about crows?” Neige didn’t know. The subject had escaped completely. 

He looked up and saw a huge staircase leading to the top floor. He should have found the middle of the school at best — he didn’t want to think about what would be worse. So the best way was to keep going. There was something like a garden at the entrance, it was possible that the castle had a courtyard.

Neige was praying they would. 

He was always very fond of courtyards, garden fields, also woods — even a little more than whole forests. They were wide-open spaces of beautiful nature, with pretty trees that didn’t necessarily make anyone feel trapped. But Neige surmised that anything can look scary if you see it in the wrong light or lack thereof.

“I... I’m not afraid…,” he tried to mumble softly as he continued to walk. He didn’t want to draw anyone's attention. “I’m… not afraid…”

In general, repeating this phrase calmed Neige in difficult moments. His psychologist once encouraged him to use the mantra to regain his composure when he was stressed. He was ready to use it when he got on stage, but not so soon.

He was just inside a simple school! Nothing more than that. No one would hurt him there. It wasn’t as some RSA colleagues said the NRC and its students were. Neige was sure that everyone was just afraid because of the gloomy appearance of the school, they had no reason to fear students who were just like them.

“Oi, what are you doing here, huh?,” someone yelled at him.

Neige turned quickly. He had to raise his face because the student who called was much taller than him. Two more joined their friend, all almost the same height and with the same angry look. Was he in trouble? He should explain himself!

“I’m lost,” Neige said. His mouth was suddenly dry. “Do you know which direction I should turn to get to the Colosseum? I... I don’t want to get in the way…”

“Are you saying you don’t want to be here?,” the first student asked.

“What? Aren’t we worthy of breathing the same air as an RSA richy boy?,” a second frowned.

“No, that’s not it! I shouldn’t be here! I-in these halls, that’s all! You got it wrong…”

“Now you’re calling us stupid!”

“N-no...!”

“Get out of here, you asshole! Or else we will…!”

“E-excuse me! I apologize! I didn’t mean to!”

More people began to move around them. Neige didn’t know what was going on. Whether they were trying to hold the three colleagues or whether they were actually going to take him out by force. All he knew was that he was running. Far away. He didn’t know whether to go in or out of the castle.

And did it matter?

It did matter. 

Neige didn’t want to make a mess. Everyone seemed angry at his presence there — and rightly so! What was he doing there? He was supposed to be somewhere else. A completely different construction on top. What would his friends say? Would the Headmaster get in trouble for that? They would heavily scold him and he wouldn’t have a reason to defend himself.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He was to blame. He got himself lost. 

Neige couldn’t see where he was going. He saw many reflections of lamps and candles around, endless walls and doors that all looked the same. His heart was as fast as his steps, his chest felt like a cloak that someone was squeezing hard not to let go of.

He could feel his arms shaking inside his blazer sleeves. Icy sweat slowly trickling down his neck and legs. It seemed like there was no end to that castle interior. Suddenly, Neige turned into a hallway and he was the only white dot among a crowd of dark and multicolored dots. 

The sea of students confused him. It was like falling into a swamp. Different faces stared at him in confusion, people shouted things in his direction, others looked so scared and surprised at his state of mind. 

He couldn’t feel his eyes. At the same time, he felt them too much. He should be with them wide open, almost making them jump out of his face. Neige didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t stop his legs or stay calm. He needed a distant, open place where he could breathe. 

The closer the flow of people approached, the more panic took over his mind. 

The voices he heard no longer made sense. The faces, so far above his head, looked more and more distorted the more he looked up. Neige couldn’t breathe. He continued to run, making room among the crowd. He wasn’t sure what was coming out of his mouth made any sense.

“I’m so sorry!,” that’s what he was saying, wasn’t it? He didn’t know. He could not hear himself.

Neige ran in sheer terror. If there were obstacles in his way, perhaps he was literally stepping over them all. It made him feel better. He mingled with the confusion of his own thoughts. 

He was anxious. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted to go back to school. His school. Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted Headmaster Ambrose’s request. Someone else would have been better in his place. That’s what he said, actually. But the director insisted. The dwarves insisted. His friends insisted. He couldn’t say no. He never could. This was important to everyone, he couldn’t spoil things right now.

This Goddamn hallway has no end?!

Neige wanted his mother’s arms. Someone who could tell him that everything was fine. The animals that were always kind to him. Anyone. But no one was there. Neige was alone. 

Alone in a huge, dark castle, full of huge, vile, visceral eyes. Big teeth, long hands. His heart beating with the intensity of an entire orchestra. Drums, flutes, oboes, clarinets, trumpets, trombones, tubas, violins, violas, cellos. All in perfect chaos. All in a melody of horror. 

It was as if he was trapped in a dark forest that was about to attack and devour him. Fleeing from an imminent danger that even he didn’t know what it was. He needed something. He needed someone. Some light. A bit of clarity. An opening.

That’s when he saw a column standing alone at the end of a corridor. There was a gap on one side and on the other. The sunlight was escaping from there like a helping hand. He just needed to reach it before the shadows could capture him. He should get closer but it was so far away. 

Could his heart take it any longer? 

Neige threw himself into the side yard as if his life depended on it. He clung to the first thing he sensed in front of him. He didn’t know what it was, his eyes were completely shut. And tears began to form on his eyelashes, like they were afraid of falling out. He was shaking a lot. A thousand things went through his head. He didn’t know what else to do.

At least he was somewhere in an open place. They say that in moments of panic you shouldn’t leave where you’re standing to avoid major accidents — and Neige thought it was logical — but he couldn’t bear to stay inside anymore. 

He tried to say something to himself, but he couldn’t. He was out of breath, tired. He needed to breathe deeply and calmly, regain some control over his overworked lungs. Something passed lightly on his back, concentrating on the area of his heart. Neige then noticed an echo within himself.

It was the same when his mother hugged him, at the time when she was still in good health and didn’t spend the whole day sick in bed. It was similar to when he comforted Toby, hugging him tightly. He was sure that before his father went to the eternal ride at the stars, he carried his baby son with the same affection.

The affection that only a calm and gentle second heart could share.

“Are you okay?” 

Neige opened his eyes quickly and raised his head. He was actually on top of a person, someone as surprised as he was — but who seemed to see how he was terribly scared. 

He quickly got off of you, brown eyes wide, trembling up to toe. Neige was frozen, not knowing what to do. You got worried when you saw tears rolling down his cheeks and tried to say something. Great, the poor guy was having a panic attack and you were panicking too!

“Excuse me!,” you two exclaimed at the same time to each other.

You held his shoulders carefully, trying your best to pass a sense of tranquility. Little by little, you recognized that face. 

It was Neige Le Blanche, wasn’t it? With the uniform from the other school that your friends talked about. You didn’t know what had happened for him to be so desolated but something inside of you made you want to protect him — and crush the responsibles ones for his sadness like rotten apples in a basket. 

Your group would be very annoyed if they ever knew you were thinking that.

“Take it easy... it’s okay. I won’t hurt you, I swear!,” you said.

Neige himself then held your arms, holding you in place.

“I’m awfully sorry. I… I d-didn’t mean to frighten you! Or... throw me on top of you…,” he took a deep breath, and you tried to smile to encourage him to talk. “... I apologize… I’ve been through a lot but it doesn’t justify…!”

“Forget it. It’s alright, don’t worry. But what about you? Are you hurt? Need something?”

“I don’t know what’s going on here, Henchhuman, but this doesn’t smell good to me,” the two of you turned to a third voice that was standing there.

For the first time, Neige realized that he was in front of two very unusual strangers. As you sighed — having completely forgotten about Grim for a solid minute — and the little monster stood next to you, Neige began to better observe both of you.

You were wearing the same black NRC blazer as the others, yet there was something in your air that indicated how completely out of place you were. Like a stranger, someone from another world. Neige didn’t even know how to put that feeling into words. And your little companion didn’t look too ordinary either.

While the boy left his arms free and you had turned completely around to ask Grim to call someone you knew, Neige grabbed that moment to put himself together. 

The sky was the same color of light blue that he saw when he arrived — although, from RSA’s castle towers, it looked more crystalline. 

There was a bright sun, birds flying across the sky. The trees in the courtyard brought snow on their branches yet they still looked alive and hospitable. And the grass under you was completely covered in white. Neige felt the winter refreshing him. He let out one last deep breath before you turned around again, still concerned.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” Neige said suddenly. “I almost wouldn’t have seen it if... I wasn’t so afraid. I ask for your forgiveness again. I’m so ashamed of the fuss I made! I was on my way to the Coliseum when I got distracted and lost myself.”

“And I imagine the guys here have been as welcoming and understanding as ever,” you said sarcastically. 

The boy, to your surprise, replied positively.

“They did! I think they were just annoyed that I was there meddling in their work, but I swear it wasn’t my intention. Everyone seemed to be so focused and I didn’t want to get in the way or fool around. But here is just... it’s so different from the places I’ve been. I couldn’t contain my curiosity.”

“I agree on that, actually. It’s a fascinating castle.” 

You smiled as you saw Neige looking up at the towers above, his gaze lost but less scared than before. He looked like a little angel who accidentally fell from his cloud and you wouldn’t doubt that this was the case. So that world could present you people that were so docile and pure? You had seen literally everything in those same hallways.

“Oh! Is that a well?,” Neige asked, pointing behind you.

“Yeah, do you want to sit there while we wait for the others? I, well, let’s say I have a friend on the festival committee,” you had a grin on your face, trying to make yourself feel important somehow. The guy next to you was a literal celebrity, it was the least you could offer.

“I would love to! Thank you very much... oh, sorry. What is your name? I’m Neige.”

He held out his hand and you just stood up there, shocked. It felt like a pretty awkward moment — more than those first few minutes ever were. 

Right in front of you was one of the most well-known celebrities in the world and he so gently and humbly introduced himself as if he were just another normal boy walking by. In fact, you already knew his name! 

Still, oblivious to this, Neige had his hand outstretched towards you in the form of a greeting. His smile was warm and endearing, like an apple pie fresh out of the oven. Someone so angelic couldn’t exist. You weren’t so doubtful about it because of a small handful of guys in the NRC who could qualify in that description. 

But not in the same way as Neige. You were pretty sure you’ve seen a cartoon with a character like that where you came from. 

Swallowing your hesitations, you introduced yourself to him. And although you don’t have much of an opinion on your name, it was a surprise to see how Neige seemed delighted to hear it. It was as if you had sung the most beautiful musical note to him. 

Already knowing each other’s names, you two went to the well in the courtyard and leaned there for a moment. You swept the snow from the edge inward, watching it crash against the frozen water surface. Neige also seemed very curious about the well. If you weren’t mistaken, it was the well in which Epel was rehearsing his singing some time ago.

“Do you think this is a ‘Wishing Well’?,” Neige asked suddenly.

That confused you. There was absolutely nothing special about that old pit, or so it seemed.

“They say that when you say your wish at the well and it echoes, the wish will certainly come true,” he continued with a smile.

“So... will you wish for victory in the VDC?,” 

“Oh, no. It wouldn’t be fair! After all the training my friends and I have done, I just want our music to touch people’s hearts. It’s a lovely song! I really wish I had chosen it.”

You frowned, seeing Neige’s gaze get lost for a second. And curiosity was stronger than you could predict.

“Didn’t you choose the song you are going to sing?”

“No, it was our Headmaster. It was a good choice, though! I have nothing to complain about. And well, he was already sure of what to order before I could make up my mind on what to choose. Is it ‘one less job’?,” Neige then laughed, remembering the words Gran said long ago. “But if I had a choice, I would want to sing another one.”

“Which one?”

“A-ah, n-no... it’s not a big deal…!”

Neige looked away from you, turning his back to the well and yet you could still see his face — white as snow surrounding you — gradually turning bright red. You held back a giggle. But the conversation was getting interesting and you didn’t want to frighten him with the possibility of laughing at his expression.

As cute as it was, you confessed to yourself.

“Please!,” you asked, carefully holding his arm. “Show me. Just a tiny little bit?”

Neige’s eyes carried a hint of indecision. 

He usually sang this little song to himself, completely alone. That is why he didn’t believe that it would have been accepted for the competition — after all, it wasn’t even finished. It was more of a lullaby he created to sleep, something light and serene.

It would completely go against the energy that the VDC was supposed to bring. It wasn’t full of swing, powerful nor suited to dance. However, here it was: was he competing to cheer other people up or to get his own victory? Neige just wanted to put on a performance that his friends could enjoy more than anything.

“I... I don’t know…”

“Please, pretty please!,” you tried to insist a little more.

It wasn’t the first time someone had gotten so close to Neige. However, it was the first time he felt so self-conscious and nervous about it. Your smile was bright and your eyes made his heart stumble for a moment. First frightened, then gradually becoming calmer and safer. And of course, the red on his cheeks got worse.

“P-promise not to laugh? I’m saying! It’s kind of silly…,” he tried to make you give up but nothing could shake you.

You had an envious sense of resilience. It was like you were fighting every day to survive in NRC and you wanted to enjoy a moment when someone wasn’t setting things on fire or threatening the students’ lives.

“I promise! And if I laugh, you can hit me!,” you blinked, giving a thumbs up.

Neige could never do that, even lightly. He then took a deep breath, straightening his blazer and making sure the beret was still intact on top of his hair — it was all useless to tell him he was just going to use his voice but you let it go.

And, in a sweet whisper, Neige sang his song softly:

For a minute, Neige took a deep breath before turning around to check your reaction. An attitude in vain, since he was shocked by your expression in the same way.

“Someday my love will come

Someday we’ll meet again

And away to your castle, we’ll go

To be happy forever, I know

Someday when spring is here

We’ll find our love anew

And the birds will sing 

And wedding bells will ring

Someday when my dreams come true”

Your eyes were completely wide open like the windows of a nice cottage. Glowing brightly, vividly delighted with what they witnessed. You wouldn’t know how to describe yourself in those expressions, though. You felt out of earth — but in a good way? It was like you were in a dream.

Almost as if it were a fairy tale and a beautiful prince had sung it to you, taking your heart to himself for a moment to be able to admire it. And yet — since it was Neige — he would return it to you quickly upon realizing your state of mind.

You’ve never felt so incredibly enchanted by something, even though you’ve been in that magical world for so long.

“That was... so beautiful,” was the most honest reaction you could put into words.

“We are so going to be crushed in the competition in emotional terms!,” you thought.

“P-pl-please...! You can’t be serious...!,” Neige exclaimed, anxiously.

Neither you nor even he could tell why — or how it was physically possible to — a greater amount of blood flowed into his snow-like face, but there wasn’t much to do about it. In the worst-case scenario, it only made him cuter. It was almost a danger to your sanity.

“Very serious!,” you stated with all your might. Something inside you wanted to make him stop having so many self-doubts. “Neige, that’s a very beautiful song. Don’t be ashamed of it!”

“I’m not ashamed! I just… I don’t know if it’s enough to be called a song,” he sighed. “It’s just a silly love song. It’s no big deal.”

“Okay, it’s not an epic song of courage or adventure, but still! It still has value. A subtle beauty, simple. Necessary. Wow, I’m going full Rook here…”

“Rook?,” Neige frowned slightly.

“The thing is: I would listen again every time you wanted to sing. And I would probably ask you to repeat it too. Sometimes when it feels like the world is going to come crashing down, it’s nice to have something light to see. Something that reminds of simpler times, with all the good things and where it’s possible to be happy.”

At this, you smiled.

“That’s why we have fairy tales, isn’t it?”

This opened Neige’s eyes in a fantastic way. 

For a moment — even a brief moment — it was as if someone had understood something profound about him that he could never put into words.

Fairy tales have always been more than an escapism for Neige since he was a child. They were an inexhaustible source of good memories and inspirations for happier days, dreams that deserved to be realized. But he never said that to anyone.

The show business overlords were awfully uninterested in “children’s fables” and he was afraid of looking immature among his peers — even if RSA was the cradle of the most dreamy boys that could exist in Wonderland. However, you perfectly captured the aspect of life that he loved the most.

And precisely what made that song something special.

“Yeah, that’s the reason why…,” Neige nodded, taking a deep breath. A soft smile sprouted on his lips. “Thank you. It... means a lot to me.”

“You don’t have to thank me. Those are my sincerest feelings. You know what I like most about this song?,” you continued, lulled by the energy of the moment.

You were really walking a lot with Rook Hunt.

“What?”

“It’s a song about love. This is already enough for it to be very beautiful to listen to! Do you know why, my snow white?,” that said, you poke the boy’s nose with your finger.

“Why?,” Neige giggled. No one had ever called him by such a funny nickname.

“Because it’s love that makes people’s inner beauty increase. And somehow, I know that you are well loved and love everyone around you very much.”

Perhaps it was too much poetry for Neige’s ears — and for your own mouth too. But you couldn’t help saying that. You just couldn’t! On the other hand, the new glint in Neige’s eyes was far more unexpected than your words.

It was like receiving a kiss from a white dove. Soft, full of meaning. Bringing the true kiss of a love that’s about to arrive. It was a feeling that sent his heart racing. And something inside you recognized the same scene in the pair of woody eyes that stared back at you. 

Then you saw Neige in a completely different way and, in your heart, you wanted to sing just one song.

“Prefect!”

Riddle’s voice interrupted the moment and the two of you jumped up, startled by the hurried approach of Hearstlabyul’s dorm leader. He was carrying Grim in his arms and another student was following him in terrible agony, unable to face either of you. You supposed he was the one guiding Neige before.

“Le Blanche-san, I’m terribly sorry for all this confusion!,” Riddle apologized. But when he was going to turn around to signal his colleague to apologize as well, Neige interrupted him.

“Sorry, you were my guide, right? I deeply apologize!,” he made a heartfelt bow and then the student turned his eyes to him, surprised. “It was all my fault! I got so distracted and unintentionally got lost inside the castle. I promise to be more careful from now on.”

“But…”

“Riddle, it’s okay,” you intervened, giving him a humored wink.

It was your way of saying, “you’re not going to have any luck arguing with this one.” 

With great effort, Riddle took a deep breath and convinced himself that there was really nothing else to do — as much as he still would like to follow protocol, being steadily reformed or not, you were all going to be late on the itinerary if time was lost needlessly.

“Would you accompany him to the Coliseum then, Prefect?,” Riddle asked, politely.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could still see Neige shaking the hand of the Heartslabyul student who was still shocked in being able to keep his head in place — and for an RSA student out of everyone to be so grateful for his work. A small chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“I do!”

So, with Grim back on your shoulders, you set out to guide Neige to the Coliseum where the main stage was set. Riddle watched your departure with a certain wonder and curiosity. Perhaps it was precisely because he had stayed behind that he could clearly see Neige’s nervous hands on his back and the subtle leaps you made as you walked forward.

Strange, isn’t it?

***

Epel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Well, almost no one from the NRC Tribe could — with the exception of Kalim who was glad you arrived and Rook who was “carefully” typing on his cellphone, certainly not taking pictures of the couple that was getting close.

But believing it or not, there you were, still talking to Neige as you both walked into the Coliseum. Although there was a strange electricity in the air between you, smiles and laughter dominated your faces and you felt strangely disappointed when you finally arrived on stage. In fact, the ones who came to receive you were the dwarves.

Your friends were still quite static in their places. Shocked. And you pretended not to notice that, nor the fact that your cheeks were a little flustered all of a sudden.

“I’m on my way. Just give me a minute, okay?,” Neige asked his friends.

“Okay!,” Dominic and the others agreed.

Only Gram took one last suspicious look at you before following them. And honestly, Neige felt immensely grateful that his grumpy friend made no further comment.

“So... this is it,” you said and Neige nodded.

“Yeah. G-good luck to you all!,” he completed, staring at you despite the nervousness. “It’s going to be a fun day, for sure. I…”

“Yeah?”

“I hope it’s not too weird to say that, but... I hope to see you again. Any day.”

Your heart skipped a beat at those words and the almost expectant way Neige looked at you. It seemed like he knew exactly what you were thinking. You also wanted to see him again, regardless of the circumstances. And something told you the opportunity would come somehow.

But, taking advantage of the fact that you weren’t in the medieval era, it was a lot easier to exchange contacts than to wait for fate or a meeting in the forest.

“I’m ‘RamshackleH’ on Magicam. My photo is this cute little fellow here,” you said, pinching Grim’s cheek.

“Hey! Well, I’m handsome but still!,” your little monster complained.

Neige laughed.

“Wait for me then. I will add you as soon as possible,” he promised. “I… I mean, when it’s possible. But early. I hope so. Trust me!”

“Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” you answered, also laughing.

“Prefect, the stage rehearsal is about to begin.”

“Is everyone going to interrupt my moments today?!,” was your initial thought before turning around.

You had not fully assimilated the voice and took another fright when you saw Vil near the two of you. On the other hand, Neige greeted him with animation and a certain relief — he was saved from bursting into flames, flurested out of existence!

“I’m looking forward to your song, Vil-kun!,” Neige said. Then he ran to join the dwarves, but not before waving at the two of you. “See you!”

As if you were already used to that point, you smiled at his energy and the roller coaster of emotions that was your conversations. With time and development, maybe you would come out of this stage of nervousness and talk normally without this strange cold in your belly.

But there was something different about Neige’s spirit when he performed with the dwarves after the NRC Tribe.

And you weren’t the only one to notice. There was a gleam in his eyes that seemed like the glow of a shower of shooting stars. A bright smile like the most beautiful snow day in a winter wonderland. He had life as his energy, awakened by the joys of life and spring. A unique beauty, capable of stealing hearts away.

It was the beauty of someone who was in love.

Special Notes: (put the notes here so up there wouldn’t be too much text) Oh yeah, the fic that took me months to make and when I finally finished writing the “dark corridors feels like that creepy forest” part, I was in shambles from listening too much Danse Macabre and tiring my eyes out of stress. But it was all for a good cause!! I always loved Belle but Snow White was my first favorite and it was super special to me growing up. And my love for her only increased over time. So how surprising I love Neige lol Well, I hope you all liked it <3