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tarnishedtwill · 1 month ago

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Nevarran Locations & Landmarks

Nevarra City– This is the capital of Nevarra. Home to the Grand Necropolis among other things. This is also primarily where most festivals and balls are held, as well as where the Palace of King Markus is located. Nevarra City is also home to the residence of the Anaxas house, and location of the Duchess Games. [Though the current ruler of Cumberland hails from this family: Duke Sandral Anaxas.] It is also home to the Castrum Draconis as well as the Minanter River which carves through it.

Castrum Draconis– Vast Botanical Gardens with hundreds of statues depicting Royalty and Heroes of legend [Powerful Generals, Dragon Hunters etc.] Along the roadways leading up to the Castrum are stately columns of black marble amidst which statues of Kings & Queens of Nevarras past are on prominent display. In Autumn there is a festival held [ see Ancestral Pageant in my Nevarran Culture Post] where many great families hire performers to recreate famous moments in the statues lives by lantern light. Often draping the statues themselves with their house colors. Notably the Pentaghasts and Van Markhams tend to compete for the best show each year.

Blackthorne Manor– The estate was gifted to a family who then took on it’s name by Queen Vanneska the Fourth. [codex: ‘A Tale of the Blackthornes’] Twenty Generations have walked its halls, [meaning if a generation is estimated at 25-30 years, I would potentially date both the manner and Vanneska to 500-600 years ago, placing somewhere around 3:50 Towers to 4:50 Black.] That said, the codex this is from is annotated by Emmrich stating this must have been written in better days– that no one knows what horrible fate befell the Blackthornes. Noting rumors of suspicious deaths, untended crypts and salacious affairs. [This means that my date estimates could be to young and the manor could be even older.] At some point since its abandonment, it became the base for the Necromancer Johanna Hezenkoss.

Grand Necropolis– A large mausoleum sometimes said to be at the heart of Nevarra city while other sources say it's on the outskirts of the city. This is the main base of operation for all Mortalitasi, including the Mourn Watch. There are open-air gardens, crypts, and mausolieums. The structure is as large as a city in its own right, some royal burials being described as palaces of their own. [Lead concept artist Matt Rhodes remarked while designing the structure that, at least in early concepts, his inspiration was an inverted Tower of Babel. The Mortalitassi, instead of seeking knowledge from the stars, they seek it from their dead.] It is also of note that the geography of the Necropolis shifts quite a bit. Chambers are known to shift and change sporadically. [Note the Memorial Gardens being lost until Rook discovers they had moved to the Vault of the Beloved & also the lack of panic over the Basalt Hypogeum at first because it was thought they moved within the Necropolis, not that they were stolen.] Though Emmrich does say during the 'Walking the Graves' questline that it is unlikely for a section to move while people are inside of it, impling it's more common for less traversed chambers to shift. Unless I am mistaken it appears the cause of this is shift is largely unknown, if not gently implied that it's something to disuade tomb raiding. [I cannot remember which dialogue it is said in, I will search, but I am pretty sure looting deterents are mentioned at one point.] While some areas like the gardens are open to the public for days of mourning, many of the lower wings are heavily restricted even among the order.

Basalt Hypogeum– A vast section of the Necropolis that was stolen and transported to Blackthorne Manor to facilitate Johanna Hezenkoss’ experiments. Many Watchers were curious of its disappearance as it was sudden, though the Necropolis does tend to shift often. Myrna noted it was a ‘matter of strange obliquity’. Once Johanna is defeated Myrna notes a great magic will be required to attempt to transport and restore the wing to its place in the Necopolis. Design wise we know this is one of the more impressive and old sactums within the Necropolis, the basalt being shipped from Rivain in 4:57 Black. We also know the name of the Stonemason who crafted its impressive halls: Othmar Gerdebrand.

Cascades– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’

Chamber of the Unforged– This is a hexagonal chamber with several small treasure caches on each spoke. Notably this is where Rook faces the Formless One when it possessed the body of a taxidermied high dragon. It is considered one of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’. The hallway leading to this chamber seems to hold several important memorials, as statues, paintings and gated off rooms of gold and urns line each side. [Knowing that the Tanhausen family commissioned the high dragon to be taxidermied it could possibly be a wing for their quite prominent family. However we do know that the ‘last’ crypt of the Tanhausen’s is in the Memorial Gardens.]

Charnel Bridge– Mentioned briefly in banter between Bellara and Emmrich for good places to learn more about undead. It’s briefly mentioned that the ‘nightmare fog’ has overwhelmed it.

Charnel Pyramid– A section of the Necropolis that is ‘disagreeably cursed.’ [Codex entry: From Myrna, on Rediscovering the Gardens] Myrna recommended that the Pyramid should go through a lustration before the next Equinox. [Lustration: a policy that removes public officials or beings from positions of power associated with a repressive regime; this makes me wonder if it is similar to the situation with undead during the War of Banners.] The area surrounding the pyramid must also be quite sizeable as it was debated to be used as a backup location for public days of mourning in the event the location of the Memorial Gardens was not rediscovered in time.

Cobalt Ossuary– A resting place for skulls within the Necropolis. This is the location of the spiritual disturbance in the short story ‘A Flame Eternal’ in which a skull began to hiss and scream from it’s niche. [We know that some royal families and high nobility have full Palaces as their resting places. I would assume an Ossuary with skulls in niches more than likely is for lower nobility, or even commoners if they are able to be inturned in the necropolis, based oh how unextravagant in sound in comparison. But this is just a guess.]

Crescent Fane– Another chamber of burial, described vaguely as having sunken black walls, with bowls of silver flames [I am not sure if this is a descriptor for veilfire or something else entirely.] around each coffin. [‘A Flame Eternal’] The only known person interred here is a woman named Mathilde, whose husband’s skull became restless until they were once again joined together. [Fane, also means a temple or shrine, so it is possible this is a temporary resting place for the recently dead, maybe to prepare them or just until they are moved to a more final resting place, as Emmrich mentions Mathilde passed ‘in her sleep, last midnight.’]

Hollow Belfry– This seems to be a common area, or main spoke. Several hallways branch off into the other chambers of the Necropolis. The center has a lowered portion where Myrna and Vorgoth tend to be stationed, alerting watchers to hauntings & providing the guild market. It also has an upper atrium. Above the chamber sets a massive bell called the Sunken Star. It is responsible for keeping malign spirits from entering certain chambers of the Necropolis (but probably not 100% of them). A ritual is need to ring the bell, so more than likely it happens intermittently through the year as the wards weaken. The direct quote when pertaining to the Sunken Star’s ability: “…in fact any malicious spirit that hears the tolling of the bell will be banished back into the Fade.”

The Memorial Gardens– This is where public days of mourning are held, while we don’t know it’s original location we do know that this chamber went missing before appearing at the vault of the Beloved [Which, in my opinion is in some way the Necropolis foreshadowing Emmrich & Rook getting together (conditional) since this seems to be Emmrich’s favourite spot to wander, and well Vault of the Beloved… anyways I digress.] The Garden is a cemetery that spralls outward amongst an array of flowers and statues. This includes the Tableau of the Dead, created from real skeletons in 7:20 Storm. As well as the large statuary monument ‘Love in Life and Death’ which displays two skeletons kissing among other posed figures, overgrown with a flower called shrouds kiss. This is a statue dedicated to the enduring passion of those bound by love. We know that the Rites of Rememberance can be performed by Watchers here as well as a meditative puzzle involving the cleansing bells. In addition to that, the only known/named people to be buried here are Rupert & Elannora Volkarin [Emmrich’s parents], and the last tomb of the Tanhanhausen line.

The Path of Glory– Just off to the Side of the Memorial gardens. It holds rooms featuring boardgames, grave mist, and such along with it’s skeletons. This is alo where Emmrich prepares an intimate dinner date for Rook if Romanced. [Trying to confirm]

The Path of Sighs– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’.

Shrouded Halls– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’.

Spectral Court– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’.

Unspoken Valley- Mentioned briefly in banter between Bellara and Emmrich for good places to learn more about Spirits. It’s briefly mentioned that the ‘nightmare fog’ has overwhelmed it.

Upper Mortuary- in banter with Neve, Emmrich mentions he left several of his books in his apartment at the Necropolis. When questioned if most Mourn Watchers live on the Necropolis grounds, he simply replies that the ‘Upper Mortuary is quite pleasant.’ this to me signifies that he is not the only one, and/or this could be one of many more residential areas within the Necropolis. I would assume if this is an area for high up faculty, students and trainees may be housed elsewhere.

Vault of the Beloved– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’. This is the new resting place of the Memorial Gardens.

Weeping Vale– We simply do not know much about what the Weeping Vale is, but dialogue between Emmrich and Rook (conditional to Mourn Watch) tells us that recently there was a problem solved by the Mourn Watch to stop wandering cenotaphs from appearing. [A cenotaph is a memorial or monument to someone whose body is buried elsewhere. This is typically done to honor those who died in war, but not always.]

Flora of the Necropolis– I cannot find much on plants related to Nevarra specifically, but some are mentioned directly: variegated weeping widower, shrouds kiss, & unknown willows capable of making their own noises [Codex: New Fauna].

Hunter Fell– A small city west of the capital. This is where King Caspar Pentaghast is from, as well as the location of the tea house that Charter calls a meeting of spies to discuss the movements and motivations of Solas. [Tevinter Nights: The Dread Wolf Take You] The only other thing to really note is that when Tylus Van Markham seized the throne from King Nestor Pentaghast [5:37 Exhalted], several surviving Pentaghasts fled to Hunter Fell. Eventually in 9:42 Dragon, the Inquisiton was called in to investigate Duke Tythas Pentaghst, ruler of Hunter Fell. He commanded a network of spies and warriors called the ‘Five Belles of Hunter Fell’ suspected of being tied to the Venatori.

Cumberland– One of the largest cities in Thedas, it sits South of Nevarra city, where the Imperial highway forks and portside to the Waking Sea. Not only does it function as a major trading port but also as a seat of immense knowledge. Home to the College of Magi, which is thought to bear the brightest mages and scholars throughout Thedas. It is also where many tournaments of combat, and archery are held. The current ruler is Duke Sandral Anaxas.

College of Magi– The college of Magi sits at the center of the city the Sun Dome’s golden exterior and massive spires making the city itself seem gilded and brilliant. The palace itself was gifted to the Chantry by a Nevarran Duchess. Keeping with the Nevvarran tradition of statues, the College of Magi is no different, the entryway featuring busts of ever Grand Enchanter from the last 600 years since this is the place from which they are chosen by a council of First Enchanters. The College of Magi is thought to bear the brightest mages and scholars throughout Thedas, some of which then move on to recruitment with the Mortalitasi.

Additional notes about historical events at the College of Magi [& some Dorian and Ashur lore]: In 9:38 following the Kirkwall Rebellion, the Chantry disbands meetings of the College of Enchanters [Based on context and what I am able to find, it seems the College of Enchaters is the name of the council of First Enchanters.], as well as any unsanctioned mage gatherings. This meant the dissolving of mage fraternities. This is also around the time that former Warden Fiona is elevated to the position of Grand Enchanter. [Wynne blames this as the reason the conclave was disbanded.] Grand Enchanter Fiona was quick to begin campaigning for independence, leading a vote among the College of Enchanters to secede from the Chantry entirely. Though the vote did not pass, the existence of the vote was enough for the Templar order to call for the dissolution of the College of Enchanters. More political unrest insues leading to Divine Justinia II calling for a meeting of the College of Enchanters, now disbanded, to the White Spire instead of their traditional seat in Cumberland. This lead to Grand Enchanter Fiona once again pleading for secession, causing High Seeker Lambert to declare the College of Enchanters treasonous. After a daring rescue of some of the enchanters, Fiona once again led a vote on succession in Cumberland. This time since too few first enchanters remained, some having died in capture, the fraternities casted their votes. This lead ultimately to the dissolution of the circles and the movement towards mage freedom. The factions mentioned above include:

Aequitarians– This is the most dominant of the fraternities in the College of Magi. Their ideology is moderate, and thus popular. It is that mages must use their abilities ethically, and responsibly within society regardless of Chantry law. They believe mages have the power to help people, and should be doing so. Historically leaders of this group include Wynne & Rhys.

Isolationists– While less popular, this smaller faction simply believes mages should separate from the Chantry, and society as a whole. Creating their own systems and culture without any scrutiny towards the practice of magic or danger towards those without.

Libertarians– This group desires the Circle to become self governed and separate rom the chantry. While on the surface the Libertarians seek to do this peacefully, a subgroup of resolutionists within the faction have no issue usng violent means to achieve this. This group has been led historically by Fiona & Adrian.

Loyalists– As the name implies this group is the most devout, following the word of the Chantry. They are often viewed negatively by other mages for being apologists to the oppression faced by mages.

Lucrosians– the smallest fraternity amongst the College of Magi, these mages simply align themselves with the priority of gaining wealth, and political influence over any social cause.

In Veilguard we receive a conversation between Dorian Pavus and Ashur [who may or may not be Divine Aequitas II] in which Dorian comments, ‘Speaking of brash rebels, remember Cumberland? Spring of ‘38?’ to which Ashur replies ‘I wish I didn’t.’ This has had me so curious as to why they were present, were they part of the fraternities that helped vote against the circles since fraternities voted in the place of first enchanters? Or were they simply there as support to keep templars from intervening the College of Enchanters meeting. Either way. Super interesting additional lore on Dorian & Ashur. We know Dorian was part of the Lucerni [a faction dedicated to redeeming and restoring Tevinter] but that is a group exclusive to the Magistirium and not one of the fraternities of the College of Magi. In fact it is more than likely closer tied to the Shadow Dragons. [If you want a less summarized version of 9:38 Dragon, most of the information comes from Dragon Age: Asunder.]

Diamond Lass– in the ‘Dragon’s Den’ district of Cumberland, this is a luxury inn. Drinks are said to be served with crystal goblets alongside runes said to keep the beverage cold.

‘Dragon’s Den’– This is a walled off sector of town, adjacent to the more wealthy quarters of the city. It functions as a Dwarven trading hub and due to his most of the buildings are described to have distinctly Dwarven Architecture.

Forsythia Estate– This is the ancestral residence of the noble house Forsythia

Thank you all for the kind words on my first lore post. In this next section I tried to break down several key locations. If there are ones you'd like to see that I did not explore please let me know! If there is anything I missed or got incorrect, I am open to corrections! Additionally I would love any additional descriptions or information about the sections of the Necropolis, information is scarce, so any additional notes are welcomed. For more posts on this topic, they will be marked on my page under the tag Nevarran lore.

I hope for this to be a resource for fic writers but also knowledge for my fellow lore nerds. More will be posted soon as feel sections become complete.

Update Edits: More insight on the shifting chambers of the Necropolis, and additional lore on the Basalt Hypogeum. Info on the Sunken Star.

Thank you guys for the feedback <3

#nevarra #nevarran lore #thedas #thedosian lore #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #emmrich x rook #veilguard #mortalitasi #mourn watch #college of Magi

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faebled-stories · 2 months ago

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Unbroken Connection

Kinkvember Day 18: Voodoo Magic

Aespa Karina (Yu Jimin) x Male reader

11.5k words

The house was everything you and Karina had dreamed up over whispered conversations and late-night plans—a beautiful, old-fashioned structure with a story in every corner, as if each creak and crack held its own memory. The red brick walls were cloaked in ivy, its tendrils winding upward in lazy spirals, giving the house a sense of timelessness, like it had stood for centuries, watching quietly as generations came and went.

“This place is perfect,” Karina whispered as she stepped onto the wide porch, running her fingers lightly along the railing. The wood was cool under her touch, its carvings faint but intricate. “Can you imagine the kind of lives people must have lived here?” Her voice carried a mix of wonder and nostalgia, as though she could already feel the house’s history soaking into her skin.

“Long ones,” you joked, gesturing to the ivy. “Look at this stuff. It’s practically holding the bricks together.”

She smiled, her eyes tracing the ivy’s twists and turns. “I like it. Feels alive.”

In the gentle evening light, the porch radiated a kind of quiet charm, the sort that made you imagine warm cups of tea and conversations that lingered long into the evening under skies painted by the sunset’s last, tender hues. A faint scent of lavender drifted in the air, subtle yet persistent, as if it had seeped into the walls, lingering from some long-forgotten garden nearby.

Inside, each room seemed to come alive with your presence. The wooden floors groaned in protest beneath your feet, their creaks echoing through the empty halls, creating a melody of movement that felt almost like the house was speaking to you, welcoming you home. The walls, bare and waiting, seemed to listen as you and Karina unpacked, your laughter filling the rooms and softening the house’s quiet, almost eerie solitude. Together, you unearthed each piece of your shared life from the cardboard boxes, placing cherished objects on shelves, letting them claim their new spaces.

“Do you think this place will feel like ours?” Karina asked as she set a stack of books on the mantle. She glanced at you, her head tilting slightly. “Or will it always feel… I don’t know. Like someone else’s?”

“It already feels like ours,” you replied. “But maybe I’m just biased because of how much we’ve already carried in.” You gestured at the half-empty boxes, trying to lighten the mood.

She laughed softly, but her eyes lingered on the empty space around her. “I guess we’ll see.”

Shadows began to settle into corners as the evening light faded, casting the rooms in a dim, golden glow. By the time most of the boxes were empty, you felt an irresistible pull to explore. The house, despite its warm charm, held an air of mystery, as if there were stories yet untold in the very walls.

Wandering from room to room, you found yourselves by the staircase, where a small, unassuming door, almost camouflaged within the dark wood paneling, caught your eye. Its handle was worn, gleaming slightly in the low light, and the door itself was so inconspicuous that you might have missed it if not for the slight draft that seemed to drift from the tiny crack at its base.

Karina frowned. “That’s… odd. Did you know this was here?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Maybe a closet? Or a pantry?” You reached for the handle, but her hand shot out, stopping you.

“Do you think we should? I mean, what if it’s locked?”

“It’s not,” you said, testing the handle and feeling it give way easily. A narrow stairwell descended into darkness, carrying a faint, musty smell that hinted at old things left undisturbed.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered, her fingers brushing through her hair in that nervous way she always did when something felt wrong. “This is how horror movies start.”

You grinned. “Come on, Jimin. It’s probably just storage. Let’s take a quick look.”

Her sigh was audible, but she nodded, reluctantly following as you descended. The steps creaked loudly underfoot, and with each groan of the wood, your own confidence waned just a little. At the bottom, the basement unfolded before you—a space cool and dim, filled with shadows that seemed to stretch and shift in the weak light. Dust motes floated through the air, and rows of shelves lined the walls, each one crowded with jars of indeterminate age, filled with strange, murky substances.

“What is this stuff?” Karina whispered, her voice barely audible over the stillness.

“Looks like… I don’t know. Old preserves? Or potions?” you joked, though your tone carried none of the confidence you were aiming for.

She shot you a look but didn’t respond. Her attention had shifted to the center of the room, where a table stood oddly clean amidst the dust-coated surroundings. Something on the table caught her eye—a doll.

The figure lay whole on the table, its shape unmistakably human yet profoundly unsettling. Its smooth, seamless form lacked any definition—no fingers, no toes, no musculature. The limbs and torso were entirely featureless, as if sculpted from an unbroken piece of clay, leaving an eerie impression of incompleteness. This blank, unformed body served only to emphasize the haunting precision of its face.

The skin of the face was painted with disturbing realism: faintly flushed cheeks, delicately drawn veins, and a subtle sheen that mimicked the warmth of living flesh. Its eyes were closed, the lids resting softly as if in peaceful slumber. The stillness of its expression, paired with the intricate detail of its features, gave it an unnerving lifelike quality that felt profoundly out of place against the blank canvas of the rest of its body. The contrast between the intricate face and the featureless form created an aura of quiet, disquieting intent, as though the doll were waiting to be brought fully to life.

“Who would leave something like this in a basement?” Karina murmured, her voice breaking the silence, sounding small and uneasy against the stillness of the room. Her gaze lingered on the doll, her hand tightening instinctively around your arm. “It’s… wrong.”

“It’s just a doll,” you said, though your voice wavered. “Probably an old collector’s item. Some people are into creepy things.”

“Some people need better hobbies.” Karina reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, the motion an automatic gesture of unease. Her fingers caught on a stray tangle, and she tugged lightly, smoothing the strands into place. A few locks cascaded back over her shoulder, catching the dim light as they settled. She took a step back, her face pale. “Let’s just leave it.”

You nodded, slipping your hand into hers. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As you turned to leave, you didn’t notice the way her hair shimmered faintly, glimmering in the dusty glow of the basement light. The strands that had fallen from her fingers seemed alive, slipping from her shoulders and moving against gravity. They floated as if drawn by some invisible force, a deliberate motion that defied the stagnant air. The golden threads stretched toward the doll, weaving through the stillness like a gossamer pulled by an unseen hand.

The faint draft that had ushered you down reversed, the air now tugging gently in the opposite direction. It brushed past you with a quiet insistence, carrying Karina’s drifting hair closer to the doll. The motion was subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakably deliberate, as though something in the room had claimed the strands for its own.

The strands seemed to hover just above the doll’s porcelain surface, quivering slightly, as though testing the boundary between the living and the inanimate. Then, one by one, they disappeared. They didn’t land or settle—they were absorbed, sinking seamlessly into the doll’s cold skin. The process was slow, almost reverent, each thread vanishing into the porcelain as if it were feeding on them, consuming their essence. The doll’s surface showed no disturbance, no trace of the hair’s presence, yet a strange energy began to ripple faintly through the room, subtle but undeniable, as if the very walls shivered in recognition.

Upstairs, the laughter you shared was nervous but genuine, both of you clinging to it like a lifeline to push back the tension left in the wake of the basement. Karina wrapped her arms around herself as she stood in the hallway, her gaze darting toward the closed basement door. Her unease lingered, etched into the slight furrow of her brow and the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Next time,” she said lightly, her attempt at humor wavering in her voice, “let’s stick to exploring things with actual light switches. Maybe some windows too.”

You chuckled, trying to match her tone, but the unease clung to you as well. “Agreed. No more basements. Definitely no dolls.”

She gave a half-smile, though her eyes lingered on the door a moment longer before she turned away. The house seemed quieter now, its warmth tempered by something you couldn’t quite name.

But below, in the still, heavy air of the basement, the doll’s porcelain surface began to glow. The light started faint, a barely perceptible pulse deep within its core, like the flicker of a distant flame. It ebbed and flowed in slow, deliberate beats, each pulse growing stronger, its glow intensifying with a sickly greenish hue that cast long, jagged shadows across the shelves and floor. The air in the basement thickened, heavy with a strange, metallic tang, as if the space itself were reacting to the doll’s transformation.

The doll’s eyes, closed in serene stillness, caught the flickering light in a way that made the lids seem faintly translucent. At first, it was a subtle effect—a play of shadows beneath the painted lashes. But as the glow swelled, the closed eyes appeared to hold a deeper presence, as though something beneath the surface stirred. The lids, once simple and lifeless, seemed to press outward faintly, hinting at a restless energy concealed behind them.

The strands of Karina’s hair, now fully absorbed, had vanished without a trace. Yet, the doll’s features began to shift. Its porcelain skin, once flawless and cold, took on a faint warmth, a suggestion of pliability that hadn’t been there before. The faint blush on its cheeks deepened, almost imperceptibly, as though the glow from within was kindling something beneath the surface. The contours of its face grew more defined, softening subtly, as if sculpted further toward perfection with each pulse of light.

The house seemed to hold its breath. The faint creaks and groans of its old structure stilled entirely, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake. Even the distant hum of the wind outside faded, as though the world itself had paused. In the suffocating quiet, the rhythmic flicker of the doll’s eerie light became the room’s heartbeat, steady and deliberate, an ominous reminder of its growing presence.

Its aura now exuded a quiet, watchful energy—no longer dormant but active, as though waiting for something. The shadows cast by its light danced across the walls, twisting and shifting unnaturally, their movements disconnected from the flicker of the glow. And deep within the stillness of its closed eyes, there was a stirring—fragile yet undeniable, an unsettling whisper of awareness beginning to take shape. The doll no longer felt like an object but a vessel, and the silence of the room seemed to anticipate the moment when its transformation would be complete.

------

The next morning, warm sunlight slipped through the bedroom curtains, casting a golden glow over Karina as she stretched and let out a contented sigh. You had left early for work, leaving her alone in the quiet intimacy of the morning. The scattered, unpacked boxes around the room hinted at new beginnings, but her thoughts kept circling back to the basement—to the doll. Despite the unease it stirred in her, a peculiar curiosity tugged at her thoughts. It was like a whisper, faint but insistent, calling her back.

After tidying a few last things, Karina found herself descending the narrow stairs once more. The wooden steps creaked softly beneath her feet, their sound amplified in the heavy stillness of the space. Cool, stale air wrapped around her as she stepped inside, carrying the faint tang of dust and metal. Shadows clung to the corners of the basement, stretching ominously toward her as the dim light flickered. She shivered slightly, her gaze drifting over the jars, cobwebs, and forgotten relics lining the shelves before settling on the table in the center of the room.

There it was. The doll lay silent, unmoved from the night before, yet somehow it felt different—like it was waiting for her.

Her steps slowed as she approached, her fingers hovering just above its surface. She hesitated, taking in its vague, incomplete features. The blank, mannequin-like body contrasted starkly with the face, which, though detailed, felt unfinished. Its closed eyes added to its unsettling stillness. Slowly, Karina extended her hand, her fingertips brushing against the surface.

She froze. The material wasn’t cold and lifeless as she’d expected. It was warm, soft, and faintly pliant—almost like skin. Her breath hitched as she instinctively pulled back, her heart pounding, but curiosity rooted her in place. Tentatively, she touched it again, her fingers trailing across its surface. A faint warmth blossomed under her touch, sending ripples through her skin, as though she were brushing her own body.

Her hand moved down its neck and across its vaguely defined chest. As her fingers lingered, the contours began to shift, the undefined surface molding into shape. Karina gasped, her hand trembling as she watched the doll begin to change. Her breath quickened, and she pressed her palm against its shoulder, marveling as the smooth joint took on a lifelike slope.

She trailed her fingers down one arm, the surface firming and refining beneath her touch. The blank limb transformed into something natural, each joint and curve forming with startling precision. The doll’s hand became delicate and human-like as her fingers brushed its palm, her pulse quickening with the impossible reality of it all.

Her movements grew more deliberate, her hand gliding across the torso. The blank plane of its chest yielded to soft ribs and a curved stomach. Karina lingered, pressing lightly into its sides as though testing its reality. Each pass sharpened the details further—faint muscles, a subtle navel, even the texture of skin. Each touch sent an echo of warmth spreading through her, a mirrored heat that made her shiver.

Her hands drifted lower, trembling as they explored its hips and thighs. The surface molded seamlessly beneath her fingers, becoming impossibly lifelike. She ran her hand down one leg, tracing the length as a knee, shin, and the curve of an ankle appeared. Each detail emerged with precision, her breath hitching as her fingers brushed its inner thigh. The texture was so warm, so realistic, that it sent a wave of heat coursing through her.

Karina swallowed hard, her hand returning upward, her touch almost compulsive now. Her trembling fingers brushed the doll’s chest again, the faint curves she’d noticed earlier now fully formed into soft, rounded breasts. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the surface before tentatively pressing against it. The material shifted under her fingers, warm and pliant, as though responding to her touch.

As she lingered, the blank surface of the doll’s chest changed further. Subtle lines formed beneath her fingertips, the soft material shaping into peaks that were unnervingly lifelike. Her fingers grazed the newly formed nipples, her breath catching as warmth surged through her, sharp and electric, as though she’d touched herself. Each gentle brush sent a thrill rippling through her, leaving her trembling and flushed.

Her breath hitched as her hand hovered over the last undefined part of the doll’s form. Slowly, she pressed her fingers to its lower torso. The blank surface beneath her touch shifted and molded, forming folds and curves with startling precision, mirroring her own. Her legs shook, and a low moan escaped her lips as an intense warmth radiated through her body, her cheeks burning as she clutched the edge of the table for support.

When the transformation was complete, Karina stumbled back, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. The doll no longer looked like a lifeless figure. It was her—exactly her. Every curve, every line, every detail was replicated in unsettling perfection, a hauntingly accurate reflection that left her rooted in place.

Her heart raced as vulnerability crept over her. Seeing her own body laid bare in such an intimate, uncanny way sent a shiver down her spine. She hugged herself instinctively, as though shielding her body from her own gaze. Desperate to cover the doll, she turned away, her hands trembling as she rifled through one of the boxes on the floor. Her fingers brushed over soft fabrics until she pulled out one of her favorite dresses—a pale, flowing piece she hadn’t yet unpacked.

Karina carried the dress back to the doll, her hands shaking as she slipped it over its shoulders. The fabric fell into place with unsettling ease, fitting the doll’s body as if it had been made for it rather than her. The way the dress hugged its frame sent an eerie shiver through her, the intimacy of the moment uncomfortably surreal. She stepped back, catching sight of herself in the mirror across the room.

Her reflection stared back at her, but so did the doll’s. It sat upright on the bed, its face now fully hers. Its closed eyes seemed more deliberate, its lifelike features so vivid they felt alive. The uncanny mimicry unsettled her, daring her to look away—but she couldn’t. Her breath came in shallow gasps, the air in the room heavy with an unnameable energy.

The doll, now clothed in her dress, sat motionless, yet its presence filled the room entirely. For a moment, Karina thought she saw the faintest movement—a slight tilt of its head, a shift of its hand—but when she blinked, it was still.

Her knees brushed against the edge of the bed as she backed away, her mind spinning. The longer she looked, the more the doll’s presence seemed to mirror her own. It wasn’t just wearing her dress—it was wearing her.

-----

The days following that intimate reveal of the doll Karina had hidden it in her room unsure of what to do with it, she decided to brush it off and distract herself from another full day of being an idol. After an exhausting but exhilarating practice session filled with music, laughter, and sweat, Karina and the other Aespa members gathered in the conference room, their energy palpable. The lingering rhythm of the studio beats still hummed in her mind as she followed her bandmates, feeling the collective excitement that seemed to bubble just below the surface. Giselle, ever the source of contagious enthusiasm, nudged Ningning with a teasing whisper that sent them both into quiet giggles. Minjeong leaned forward, her curiosity piqued, her eyes darting between their manager and the others as they settled into their seats.

The manager entered the room with his usual steady presence, his hands folded and his smile warm. The girls instantly hushed, their attention snapping to him in anticipation.

“Your recent comeback has been a huge success,” he began, his voice beaming with pride. “You’ve topped charts and we couldn’t be prouder of each of you.”

A ripple of pride swept through the group. Minjeong shot Karina a thumbs-up, her grin as wide as ever, while Giselle reached across the table to squeeze Ningning’s arm, the two of them laughing in disbelief. Karina couldn’t help but smile, soaking in the joy that filled the room. It was moments like these that reminded her of why they worked so hard, pouring themselves into their music and performances.

But the manager wasn’t finished. “That’s not all,” he added, his excitement unmistakable. “We have even bigger news for you—you’re going on tour!”

The room fell still for a moment as the weight of the announcement sank in, then erupted into a cacophony of celebration. Minjeong let out a delighted squeal, practically leaping from her seat as she clasped her hands together. Giselle’s mouth hung open for a second before she broke into laughter, her eyes shining with disbelief. Ningning gasped, her cheeks flushed with exhilaration, and she turned to Karina with a wide-eyed look of joy.

Karina’s heart raced as she imagined the roar of crowds, the thrill of stepping onto stages in cities around the world, and the energy of fans who had waited so long to see them perform. It was everything they had dreamed of, everything they had worked for. The thought of sharing their music on such a grand scale filled her with a rush of adrenaline and anticipation.

But as the manager began listing the tour dates, Karina’s excitement faltered. Her mind snagged on a detail she wished she could ignore: the tour would overlap with her anniversary with you. A pang of guilt and regret twisted inside her, dulling the edges of her happiness. She forced herself to stay present, laughing and celebrating with her friends, but part of her was already mourning the time she’d lose with you.

That evening, Karina returned home with a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. She couldn’t wait to share the incredible news with you, but the weight of the tour dates pressed heavily on her chest. As she stepped into the warm comfort of your shared space, she found you waiting for her on the couch, your face lighting up at the sight of her. The familiar scent of home—a mix of her favorite lavender candle and the faint aroma of dinner—embraced her, soothing her nerves, if only slightly.

“So,” she began, setting her bag down and fidgeting with her fingers. Her voice wavered as she tried to balance the excitement bubbling within her and the regret tugging at her heart. “There’s some big news.” She paused, drawing a steadying breath before the words tumbled out in a mix of pride and hesitance. “The album’s doing amazing, and… we’re going on tour!”

Your face broke into a smile, your genuine happiness for her shining through. Relief flooded her, but the feeling was fleeting. She hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the table as she continued. “But,” she added softly, her eyes dropping to the floor, “the tour overlaps with our anniversary.”

Your smile faltered for just a heartbeat, a flicker of disappointment crossing your face before you quickly masked it. “That’s… not ideal,” you said, your voice tinged with understanding. “But baby, when I asked you to be my girlfriend, I signed myself up for all of this. I’d never want to hold you back from that.”

She looked up at you, her eyes shimmering with gratitude as you reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. “I hate that it’s on that day, but… thank you for understanding.”

You pulled her close, wrapping her in a firm embrace. For a while, neither of you said anything, letting the silence hold the depth of your love and the ache of the separation that loomed ahead. The soft beat of your hearts seemed to sync as you held each other, anchoring yourselves in the present.

The lead up to Karina’s departure were a mix of sweetness and sorrow, a countdown neither of you wanted to acknowledge but couldn’t escape. Each moment together felt heavier, charged with a need to make it last. You and Karina spent every spare moment with one another, finding solace in the routines and small joys of your shared life.

Mornings became sacred. The two of you would wake up early, savoring slow breakfasts at the kitchen table. You teased her about her favorite coffee mug—a chipped, mismatched thing she adored despite your insistence that you’d buy her a new one. Her laughter echoed softly, her smile brighter than the sunlight streaming through the window.

Evenings stretched late into the night. You’d sit tangled together on the couch, your conversations meandering through memories of your favorite moments together. She told you how your first kiss still gave her butterflies, and you shared how proud you were of everything she had accomplished. When the words ran out, you stayed wrapped in each other’s warmth, the quiet hum of your love filling the spaces between.

There were moments of vulnerability too—nights when you found her staring out the window, her thoughts far away. She confessed her guilt about leaving on such an important day, and you reassured her with soft touches and whispered promises.

------

Karina’s departure day dawned with a quiet that felt unnatural, as though the house itself understood what was coming. The air seemed heavier, thick with an unspoken finality, and even the sunlight streaming through the windows felt subdued. Her footsteps on the hardwood floor carried an unusual weight, each one more deliberate as she made her way to the door. In her arms, she cradled a large, carefully wrapped box, its presence as significant as the moment itself. The neat bow atop it added a touch of care, and she carried it with a reverence that spoke of its importance.

Her cheeks were dusted with a faint blush, and her lips parted into a nervous smile as she looked at you. There was something shy and uncertain in her expression, a contrast to the confidence she usually exuded. She set the box down gently on the coffee table, straightening her posture before turning back to you.

“I… I wanted to give you something before I left,” she said softly, shifting the box slightly and holding it out to you. Her eyes flicked between yours and the package, searching your face for your reaction.

You took the box from her carefully, surprised by its weight. It wasn’t heavy, but it had a certain gravity that hinted at its significance. Curiosity mingled with apprehension as you placed it on the table and began to open it. Lifting the lid, you peeled back the soft protective wrapping, and your breath caught as you revealed what lay inside.

A nearly life-sized doll, sculpted with uncanny precision, stared back at you—or would have, had its eyes not been closed in a strange, serene expression. Its resemblance to Karina was startling. Every detail, from the gentle curve of its cheekbones to the cascade of long, dark hair that fell over its shoulders, mirrored her perfectly. The doll even wore one of her favorite dresses, the fabric draping over its form in a way that felt disturbingly natural.

You blinked, taking an involuntary step back as you tried to process the sight before you. “Honey… this is…” Words failed you for a moment as your eyes darted between the doll and her. “It’s… so real.”

Karina let out a soft, nervous laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, it’s a little unusual,” she admitted, her blush deepening as she shifted on her feet. “But I had it custom-made, just for you. Since I’ll be away for a while, I thought… maybe it would help you feel like I’m still close.”

You stared at the doll again, your chest tightening with an unplaceable unease. Its closed eyes made it look peaceful, almost restful, but its lifelike features made it feel as though it could wake at any moment. The dress only added to the strange feeling—a version of Karina that was simultaneously here and yet absent.

“Jimin…” you began slowly, glancing back at her. “I don’t know. This feels… like a bit much. It’s just… so realistic.” You tried to manage a smile, hoping to soften your reluctance. “Maybe too realistic?”

Her smile wavered slightly, and a flicker of vulnerability passed through her eyes as she stepped closer. “Please?” she asked softly, taking your hand in hers. Her voice was tender, her gaze imploring. “I know it might seem a little strange, but… I really want you to have it. Since I’ll be away, I thought it might bring you some comfort, knowing that even though I’m far away, you’ll still have something here with you. A part of me.”

Her hand tightened on yours, interrupting your thoughts. “I know it’s not the same,” she said quietly. “But I thought it could help. I just… I don’t want you to feel alone. Even if it’s a little strange, I want to leave you with something that reminds you of me.”

Her tone softened, and her eyes glistened with unspoken emotion. “Please, just try. It’s okay if it feels weird at first. I just… I really want this for you.”

You sighed, the tension in your chest loosening slightly at the sight of her vulnerability. Her intentions were pure, even if the gift itself unsettled you. “Alright,” you said gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll keep it.”

Relief washed over her face, and she broke into a warm smile, pulling you into a tight embrace. She lingered there for a moment before pulling back, gesturing toward the doll. “Go ahead,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “Look closer.”

You hesitated, then reached out. Your fingers brushed the doll’s cheek, marveling at its texture. The material was soft, warm, and faintly yielding—eerily lifelike. Your hand moved lower, skimming over its collarbone and down its arm. As you brushed against its hand, you glanced at Karina, noticing how her chest rose and fell more quickly than before. Her lips parted slightly, and she pressed them together as though to stifle a reaction.

“You okay?” you asked, watching her closely.

She nodded quickly, her blush deepening. “Yeah, it’s just… weird seeing you touch it,” she lied, her voice barely audible. “But go on.”

You turned back to the doll, curiosity tugging at you despite your discomfort. Your hand drifted lower, tracing the subtle curve of its waist. You couldn’t deny how precise it was—every contour felt real, natural, even though you knew it wasn’t. When your fingers brushed over its chest, you froze, startled by how soft and pliant it felt. The sensation made you glance back at Karina, who was standing rigidly beside you, her hands clenched at her sides.

Her breathing hitched audibly, and for a moment, her lips trembled as though she might speak—but she didn’t. She stayed quiet, her cheeks flushed as she visibly tried to steady herself.

“Jimin…” you said cautiously, watching her reaction. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird for you?”

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, though her voice wavered slightly. Her body remained stiff, her fingers curling into her palms as she tried to mask her reaction. “Just… finish.”

You hesitated but continued, brushing over the doll’s arm again before moving lower. Your fingers trailed over its legs, the texture as lifelike as the rest of its form. Karina shifted beside you, her breaths uneven but controlled, her eyes fixed on your hand as though trying to focus on anything other than the sensation it might evoke in her.

Finally, you pulled back, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “It’s… impressive,” you admitted reluctantly, though the unease hadn’t entirely left you.

Karina nodded, exhaling shakily as she stepped closer. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I know it’s strange, but I wanted it to feel like I was still here with you. Even if it’s not the same.”

Her hand found yours again, her fingers lacing through yours as she rested her head on your shoulder. “I’m going to miss you,” she murmured, her voice soft and wistful.

You kissed the top of her head, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “And I’ll be here, counting down the days until you come back.”

-----

The days without Karina stretched endlessly, each one a slow ache that deepened the longer she was gone. Though you spoke every night, the absence of her presence—the warmth of her touch, the sound of her laugh filling the room—created a void that even her most loving words couldn’t quite fill. The doll she had left behind sat untouched, a silent reminder of her, but you hadn’t found the will to reach for it. Instead, the house felt emptier with every passing day, its stillness amplifying her absence.

When your anniversary arrived, it brought a bittersweet mix of excitement and longing. Determined to make the night special, you poured yourself into preparing the space, setting the table with flickering candles and the bottle of wine she had excitedly suggested weeks ago.

Her request had come during one of your nightly calls, her tone warm with affection. “Promise me we’ll eat the same thing,” she had said, her voice carrying an almost childlike excitement. “Same cuisine, same dishes. That way, it’ll feel like we’re together.” You’d agreed without hesitation, ordering her favorite dishes from a restaurant she loved back home. Unknown to you, she had gone a step further, arranging for someone she trusted to deliver a special instruction to the chef.

When her face appeared on the call that evening, it was as if the ache of her absence melted away for a moment. She looked radiant, her soft waves of hair cascading over her shoulders, her lips curving into the smile that always sent a warmth straight to your chest.

“Happy anniversary, love,” she said, her voice tender and filled with emotion.

“Happy anniversary, baby,” you replied, your tone matching hers. “You look… incredible.”

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So do you.” Her gaze flicked to the setup behind you, and her expression softened with appreciation. “You really went all out. It’s beautiful.”

“Only the best for you,” you teased, pouring the wine and raising your glass. “To us.” “To us,” she echoed, lifting her own glass with a bright smile. The synchronized motion, small as it was, closed the miles between you, making the distance feel just a little less insurmountable.

The evening began with lighthearted conversation, her laughter spilling from the screen as she shared stories from her tour. She described the places she’d been with an almost childlike wonder, painting vivid pictures of crowded streets, twinkling cityscapes, and quaint cafés.

“When we were in Japan, there was this tiny café,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “They served these adorable matcha parfaits shaped like bears. It was so cute I almost cried.”

“You? Crying over a dessert?” you teased, laughing. “I would’ve loved to see that.”

“You would’ve teased me the entire time,” she shot back, giggling. “But it would’ve been worth it.”

As the dinner progressed, the playful chatter softened into something warmer, more intimate. The food, rich and flavorful, carried an unexpected heat—a subtle, lingering warmth that began to spread through your body. It wasn’t just the wine or the meal itself; it was the way Karina’s voice felt closer, her laughter sweeter, her gaze through the screen more magnetic. Every detail drew you further into the moment, as if the distance between you no longer mattered.

She leaned closer to the camera, her smile softening as her voice dipped into a quieter, more vulnerable register. “You know,” she said, her gaze holding yours, “this tour is amazing, but it’s nothing compared to being with you. I miss the way you hold me, the way you look at me.”

Your breath hitched, her words weaving a spell that wrapped around your chest. “Babe…”

“I mean it,” she continued, her voice dropping further, taking on a sultry edge. “I miss the way your hands feel on my skin. The way you touch me like I’m the only thing in the world.”

Her tone shifted, her words slowing as her lips parted slightly. “You don’t know what it does to me, being away from you like this.” Her voice dipped into a low, intimate whisper. “I think about it every night—your hands on me. How you feel. How you make me feel.”

Heat flared in your chest, her words igniting a visceral need that had been dormant for weeks. You shifted slightly in your seat, your voice thick with longing as you murmured, “Jimin, you’re not playing fair.”

“Who said I was playing fair?” she teased, her smile widening. She leaned back slightly, her eyes half-lidded as her voice took on a deeper, sultrier tone. “I’ve been thinking about you every single night. How your mouth felt the last time you kissed me, the way your hands made me forget everything else…”

She let out a soft, breathy moan, her cheeks flushing as she watched your reaction. “I wish you were here to touch me, to remind me what it feels like to be yours.”

You froze, the sound of her voice and the sheer intimacy of her words leaving you speechless. Your heart raced, the image of her filling your mind with every heated word, the space between you shrinking as her tone drew you closer.

“I need you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Jimin, I…”

“I need you too,” she replied, her voice dripping with longing. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About how much I want you right now.”

Her lips parted, her breath quickening as if she could feel the tension that pulsed through the screen. You leaned closer, captivated by the intensity in her gaze, your need for her overpowering the distance between you. The connection felt real, visceral, until the sharp ring of her hotel room phone shattered the moment.

She sighed, visibly frustrated, and glanced toward the phone. “Hold on,” she said, picking it up.

For a moment, you waited, unsure if she’d return quickly. But when she did, her expression was apologetic, her voice laced with regret. “The manager needs me for something urgent,” she said softly, her tone tinged with disappointment. “I’m so sorry, love.”

The flicker of frustration must have shown on your face because she leaned closer to the camera, her voice soft and reassuring. “I love you. More than anything. And I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

Before you could respond, the screen went dark, leaving you alone in the charged stillness of your room.

You paced back and forth, your body still thrumming with the heat her words had stirred. The ache she’d left behind was relentless, her voice and the way she’d looked at you replaying in vivid detail. Your gaze drifted to your phone, lingering on the memory of her, when a notification lit up the screen.

A message from Karina.

Your heart leapt as you opened it. The photo hit you like a wave—a shot of her sprawled across the bed, her tousled hair falling in soft waves over one shoulder. Her skin glowed in the warm, muted light of her room, every curve illuminated with an alluring softness. Her lips were curled into a sultry, knowing smile, and her arms were draped in a way that hinted at modesty yet revealed enough to leave little to the imagination. Her bare chest was exposed, the subtle curves and smooth skin drawing your eyes helplessly downward. The photo was bold and intimate, a perfect balance of suggestion and revelation, pulling you deeper into her web with every detail.

The caption read: I hope this is the start of my apology.

You stared at the image, your breath catching as a mix of desire and longing surged through you. The ache of her absence felt sharper than ever, and now her words, her teasing smile, and this image stormed through your thoughts like wildfire.

Far away, Karina leaned back against her pillows, her lips curling into a sly smile as she imagined your reaction. She ran her fingers lazily through her hair, the satisfaction of her plan unfolding exactly as she intended. “Let’s see how long you last without me,” she murmured, her voice tinged with playful mischief.

Your room felt stifling, the air thick with tension as you lay on the bed beside the doll. Its lifelike features caught the soft glow of the bedside lamp, eerily close to hers yet unreachable. Karina’s voice echoed in your mind, teasing and sultry, her plan working perfectly as you struggled with the void she’d left behind. The space beside you felt impossibly empty, the absence of her touch a gnawing ache that the doll’s uncanny resemblance only amplified.

Your hand hovered over the doll’s face, brushing against the smooth, synthetic skin. The texture was startlingly lifelike, warm under your fingers, and as you traced its delicate features—the familiar curve of its lips, the softness of its jawline—it became harder to separate the illusion from the reality you craved. Karina’s name slipped from your lips in a quiet murmur, your chest tightening with longing.

Inside her hotel karina laid on her bed, her bare skin kissed by the cool air drifting through the room. She had orchestrated everything—the doll, the setup, even the lingering ache she hoped would drive you to her gift. She had imagined every step, every reaction, and her body hummed with anticipation as she pictured you succumbing to the desire she’d left behind.

Her lips curled into a smile as she ran a hand lazily along her stomach, letting her fingers trace idle patterns. She could almost feel your touch, phantom sensations that made her skin tingle. “Finally” she whispered, her voice low and breathy. Her thighs pressed together as the anticipation coiled tightly within her. She imagined your hands, your breath, and the way you’d surrender to the distance that had stretched too far.

In your room, you sat up, running a hand through your hair as the ache inside you became unbearable. Your gaze flicked to the doll again, its serene face illuminated in the dim light. Hesitation flickered through you before you reached for the nightstand, grabbing a small bottle of lube. The coolness of it sent a shiver through your body as you prepared yourself, the vividness of your desire making every movement feel charged with electricity.

Karina shifted against the sheets, her eyes narrowing as a pang of doubt crept into her thoughts. What if you didn’t use it? What if her plan had been too much, too bold? Her confidence wavered, and she sat up slightly, running a hand through her hair. Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as she whispered, “Did you stop? Was it too much?”

Her mind raced, imagining you hesitating, putting the doll aside. A ripple of frustration and sadness swept through her as she bit her lip, staring at her dark phone. “Don’t pull away from me…” she murmured, her voice laced with longing and desperation. She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself against the quiet ache of disappointment.

But then—she gasped, her body jolting violently as an overwhelming sensation ripped through her. Her eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing, as she clutched at the sheets. Her back arched as her entire body shuddered, an unmistakable pressure filling her completely, so vivid and intense it left her breathless.

“Oh my God,” she cried out, her voice trembling as her head fell back against the pillow. Her thighs quivered as the phantom sensation of your length pressed deeper into her, deliberate and slow, making her toes curl. Every nerve in her body was on fire, pleasure rolling through her in powerful, unrelenting waves.

Back in your room, you positioned the doll carefully, the weight of its form adding to the vividness of the illusion. Your body moved instinctively, your mind entirely lost in the fantasy Karina had spun around you. Each motion, each moment felt electric, her name a quiet mantra on your lips as you surrendered to the overwhelming need she’d left behind.

Karina’s chest heaved as her body adjusted to the sensation, her hands clutching the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Oh, fuck…” she whispered, her voice cracking as she felt you move inside her again, slow and steady, leaving her gasping for air. The intensity of it made her whole body burn, her skin tingling with the phantom connection that defied explanation.

“You’re… using it,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice tinged with equal parts triumph and desperation. Her lips parted as another moan escaped her, her head turning to the side as she let herself fall deeper into the moment. Her back arched as her body responded instinctively, her hips moving subtly, as if to meet the sensation halfway.

The thought of you, so far away yet so intimately close, sent another wave of pleasure crashing over her. She shivered, her breathing uneven as she whispered, “I knew you couldn’t resist…”

The air felt oppressive, thick with the heat and tension that had built throughout the night. Your body moved with a desperation that bordered on animalistic as you thrust into the doll. Its lifelike softness under your hands, the way its core clung to you with an almost pulsing grip—it all blurred the line between reality and fantasy. Every sensation was heightened, vivid to the point of overwhelming, and you couldn’t hold back.

Your hands roamed over the doll’s body, gripping its breast roughly. The synthetic material gave under your fingers, yielding in a way that felt startlingly real. Normally, when you were with Karina, your touch was controlled, measured, careful. She was an idol, and every step in your intimacy came with a layer of deliberation. But now, with the doll’s unyielding silence and perfect mimicry, you felt none of the restraint you would have with her.

Your palm struck the doll’s breast, the sharp sound echoing in the room. A red flush appeared on its synthetic skin, and you smacked it again, harder this time. The sight of your mark left your breath hitching, your body trembling as the roughness spurred you on.

Karina gasped as the sensation of your touch reached her. The sting of your hand on her breast sent jolts of pleasure and pain coursing through her, her back arching off the bed as her chest heaved. “Oh, my God…” she whimpered, her voice cracking with the vividness of it.

Her hands moved to her chest, instinctively covering the marks she felt there. The roughness of your touch, the sharpness of each slap, only heightened the pleasure building inside her. She could feel every movement—your palm squeezing her flesh, the sting as your hand struck her, and the pressure of your fingers digging into her skin.

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, a futile attempt to temper the overwhelming sensations radiating through her body. The motion only heightened the intensity, amplifying the heat that coursed through her. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, her entire body trembling as she whispered, “You’re so rough tonight,” her voice tinged with disbelief and raw arousal. “I can feel all of it…”

In your room, your breath came in shallow gasps, your grip tightening on the doll’s hips as your thrusts grew more erratic. The lifelike core pulsed and tightened around you, gripping you with a vividness that blurred the lines between fantasy and reality. Each rhythmic contraction drew you deeper, coaxing every ounce of control from your body, the intensity building with each movement.

Normally, with Karina, you would use a condom. It was an unspoken rule—one born of mutual care and caution, knowing how carefully she had to protect her image as an idol. But now, the rawness of feeling completely bare was intoxicating. The doll’s warmth, its pulsing tightness—it all overwhelmed you in a way you’d never experienced.

You groaned her name, “Jimin,” your voice thick with desperation as you leaned over the doll. Your free hand came down on its breast again, the slap harder this time. The synthetic skin flushed under your touch, and you pinched its nipple, twisting with a force you wouldn’t dare use on Karina.

Karina’s back arched violently as her skin mirrored your actions. She could feel your hand gripping her breast, the sharp sting of the slap followed by the rough pinch. A cry tore from her lips as pleasure and pain mingled, the intensity leaving her gasping for air.

Her body burned, her skin alive with sensation as if you were truly there with her. Every motion was perfectly synchronized, every rough thrust and squeeze sending her closer to the edge. Her chest heaved as she clutched at the sheets, her voice breaking as she cried out, “Yes… just like that…”

The doll’s core pulsed around you again, gripping you tighter, almost pulling you deeper. The sensation was surreal, unlike anything you’d felt before. It wasn’t just the warmth or the tightness—it was the way it seemed to respond to you, as though it were alive. The rhythmic squeezing was enough to drive you mad, and you could feel your climax building with unrelenting intensity.

You buried yourself deep inside it, your release crashing over you like a tidal wave. The rawness of being bare, of releasing fully into the doll’s impossibly realistic core, sent shockwaves through your body. Normally the condom muted the sensation, a necessary precaution you’d both grown used to. But now, the sheer vividness of the feeling left you trembling. The pulsing tightness of the doll clung to you, each pump of your release magnified, each pulse drawing out the intensity.

“Ugh fuck,” you groaned, your voice breaking as your body gave in completely.

Karina screamed as the sensation of your release surged through her, a shockwave of impossible vividness that left her gasping for air. It was as if you were truly inside her, every pulse of your release tangible, every rhythmic pump filling her completely. The feeling was overwhelming, raw in its intimacy, breaking through every boundary she had known before. It was not just physical—it was all-encompassing, lighting up her senses in ways she had never imagined.

Her back arched violently off the bed, her legs trembling as the sensation spread through her. Instinctively, her thighs pressed together, her body desperate to contain the fullness, but it did nothing to slow the relentless tide of pleasure. The startlingly real pressure claimed every inch of her, leaving her utterly breathless. Her hands gripped the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white, her body reacting instinctively to the connection that felt like nothing she had ever experienced.

Lost in the feeling, Karina’s hips began to move of their own accord, grinding upward in a desperate attempt to meet you. Her movements were met only with air, the stark reminder of your absence making the sensations even more surreal and maddening. The futile grinding only amplified her need, her body seeking a closeness that wasn’t truly there yet felt undeniably real.

“Oh, my God!” she cried out, her voice breaking as the intensity of it overwhelmed her. The rhythmic pulses of your release felt endless, each one sending another jolt of pleasure through her. It was as though her body recognized this as something forbidden, something she had never allowed herself to feel—a complete surrender to being filled, claimed, in a way that shattered her carefully controlled world.

The sensations opened something inside her, a deep well of vulnerability and raw, unfiltered pleasure. The feeling of being filled wasn’t just physical; it was emotional, a connection so profound it left her trembling. “I can feel you,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper, the awe and disbelief clear. “Every bit of you…”

Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her, each one more intense than the last. The fullness inside her heightened everything, making her body hyper aware of every nerve, every sensation. It was unrelenting, a tidal wave of ecstasy that consumed her completely. Her thighs quivered as her body tightened around the phantom sensation, her hips lifting instinctively as if to take more of you, to hold you closer.

Her climax ripped through her like a storm, an overwhelming, earth-shattering moment that left her crying out in ecstasy. The pulses of your release seemed to synchronize with her own, amplifying the pleasure as if you were truly connected. She could feel everything—the heat, the rhythm, the way you filled her completely. It felt endless, the connection between you growing stronger, the distance between you evaporating in that moment of shared release.

As the sensations finally began to ebb, her body collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. The aftershocks rippled through her, leaving her trembling and flushed. Her skin was damp with sweat, her hair clinging to her face as she stared at the ceiling, her mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened.

A slow, satisfied smile spread across her lips as she whispered, “You couldn’t resist.” Her voice was soft, filled with triumph and affection, her body still buzzing with residual pleasure. Her hand trailed lazily over her flushed skin, the memory of the sensations lingering like a brand.

She closed her eyes, her mind swimming with thoughts of you. “Good,” she murmured, her voice a mix of possession and tenderness. “You’re mine… just like I wanted.” The feeling of being filled, of connecting with you so deeply, had changed something in her. It was more than just a physical experience—it was a claiming, a bond that would linger, no matter how far apart you were.

Karina felt boneless, her body trembling violently as wave after wave of aftershocks rippled through her. Her chest heaved with ragged breaths, her thighs quivering as she struggled to regain control. She could feel every inch of you—the impossible fullness, the lingering warmth of your release pooled deep inside her. Her entire body felt raw, too sensitive, and yet her arousal continued to build. Every slight movement seemed to push it deeper, a constant reminder of how thoroughly she’d been claimed.

Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles white as she bit her bottom lip to stifle the sounds threatening to spill from her. Her inner walls throbbed uncontrollably, her body clenching as if unwilling to let go of the overwhelming sensation.

Her back arched off the bed as a sharp sting spread across her chest—a hard slap on her breast. The sound reverberated through the quiet room, and she cried out, her voice muffled as her face pressed into the pillow. Her nipples throbbed, hypersensitive as your grip returned, kneading roughly, tugging and twisting with no mercy. Another hard slap landed, and she gasped, her chest heaving as the pain blurred into pleasure.

Her mind spun as the sensations intensified. Her legs fell open wider, her body yielding completely as the rhythm grew more relentless. Each tug on her nipple sent jolts of heat straight to her core, and the fullness inside her felt like it was expanding, stretching her impossibly more. Her breath caught as she felt your tongue on her skin—wet, warm, and insistent. It circled her right nipple, the pressure teasing and building as you sucked hard, making her toes curl.

“No,” she whimpered weakly, her voice trembling. “No, I can’t—” But her body told another story. She arched into the phantom touch, her breaths growing faster as her nipple throbbed under the attention. The flick of your tongue sent shivers through her, the combination of pleasure and overstimulation pushing her closer to the edge. When suddenly.

Knock, knock.

Her heart leapt, panic surging through her. Minjeong’s voice came through the door, her tone hesitant. “Unnie? Can we talk for a minute?”

Karina froze. Her mind swirled in panic, her body still alight with your touch. She fumbled for her robe, struggling to gather herself. The fabric clung awkwardly to her damp skin as she tied it hastily, her trembling hands betraying her desperation. She forced herself to rise, but the moment she stood, an invisible grip tightened around her neck.

Her breath caught sharply, her head tilting back as the hold constricted her throat. She stumbled forward, her hand bracing against the wall as she gasped for air. The pressure made her lightheaded, yet it only amplified the arousal coursing through her. Her body betrayed her, her chest heaving as she struggled to take another step, each movement sending the fullness pressing impossibly deeper inside her.

“Oh, God,” she choked out softly, her knees wobbling as she reached the door. Her fingers gripped the handle tightly, and the constriction eased just enough for her to force the door open. She leaned heavily on the frame, her face flushed and damp with sweat, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

“Minjeong,” she managed hoarsely, her voice barely steady.

“Unnie, are you okay? You look… really flushed,” Minjeong said, her brow furrowing.

Karina forced a tight smile, clutching her robe around her. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice strained. “What’s up?”

Minjeong hesitated but stepped inside, her expression uncertain. “I just needed to vent,” she began softly. “I messed up during the performance yesterday. It’s been eating at me.”

Karina froze, her body still trembling as the sensations rippled faintly through her. “It wasn’t a big deal,” she said quickly, her voice higher-pitched than usual. “No one noticed.”

Minjeong sighed, sitting down on the bed beside her. “But it was during my highlight part,” she continued, her voice heavy with guilt. “I missed the cue, and I could feel everyone looking at me. I feel like I ruined the whole song.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Karina said sharply, her words tumbling out too fast. “The crowd loved it.”

Minjeong tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. “Unnie, you’re talking really fast. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Karina snapped, her voice cracking. She crossed her legs tightly, her thighs clenching as the lingering pressure inside her made her shift involuntarily. “I just… I think I left some medicine in my bag in the bathroom. Can you grab it for me?”

Minjeong hesitated, her gaze lingering on Karina’s disheveled appearance, but she eventually stood. “Okay, I’ll check.”

The moment the bathroom door clicked shut, Karina collapsed back onto the bed. Her legs fell open as her body gave in completely. The grip on her neck tightened again, and her head tilted back as she gasped for air. Her chest burned, her body trembling violently as the phantom rhythm built to a breaking point once more.

Her climax surged violently as your teeth grazed her nipple for the first time. Her back arched sharply as the biting sensation left her trembling, and the wet flicks of your tongue soothed the sting, coaxing her higher and higher. She grabbed the pillow, pulling it over her face as her voice escaped in a strained scream, muffled against the fabric as the grip on her neck tightened further.

Her entire body convulsed, the intensity overwhelming as she felt the fullness inside her deepen with every movement. Her cries turned into desperate, broken moans as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

When Minjeong returned, Karina barely managed to pull herself together. Her robe was haphazardly tied, and her face was flushed and damp with sweat.

“I couldn’t find anything,” Minjeong said, her tone skeptical. “Unnie, are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve been running a marathon.”

“I’m fine,” Karina said quickly, her voice shaky. “I just need to rest.”

Minjeong frowned but eventually nodded. “I’ll go down to the lobby and see if they have anything.”

As the door clicked shut, Karina collapsed back onto the bed, her chest heaving as she let out a shaky breath. A weak, triumphant smile spread across her lips as she whispered, “You’re impossible.”

Back at your house, you sat on the edge of the bed, the doll resting before you. The soft glow of the room illuminated it's eerily lifelike features, a testament to the unsettling craftsmanship. Its warmth radiated faintly under your touch, and its pliant texture added an almost unnerving realism. As you worked carefully to clean it, your hands moved methodically, though your mind couldn’t help but linger on how strange and lifelike it felt.

Your fingers brushed against its core, and the unexpected tightening startled you briefly. You shook your head, muttering to yourself about the doll’s unsettling realism. As you continued, your movements remained methodical—careful scoops to ensure it was thoroughly clean. Each curl and shift of your fingers felt oddly precise, the warmth and give of the material blurring the line between artificial and lifelike. You adjusted the angle instinctively, focused entirely on the task while marveling at how well-crafted it was.

Again, Karina jolted violently, her thighs clamping together in a futile attempt to contain the storm of sensations coursing through her. A broken gasp tore from her lips as her fingers twisted the sheets, knuckles white with tension, her back arching off the bed in a mix of helplessness and need.

Each deliberate motion of your hand, precise and unyielding, sent waves of overstimulation rippling through her. Your fingers pressing and curling inside her felt so real it made her toes curl. Her chest heaved with uneven breaths, rising and falling as she struggled to process the overwhelming intensity. She couldn’t escape the unrelenting pressure that pushed her to the brink, her body trembling uncontrollably beneath its weight.

“Stop…” she whispered faintly, her voice shaky and laced with desperation. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, the overstimulation dragging her into a haze of pleasure and vulnerability. “Please…” she choked out, her plea barely audible as her hips moved restlessly against the bed, seeking relief but finding none.

The pressure built relentlessly, her inner muscles clenching involuntarily, her body betraying her at every turn. Her face pressed into the pillow, her muffled whimpers spilling freely, each sound tinged with a mix of desperation and surrender. Her body bucked slightly, her thighs quivering as she tried to resist the sensations flooding her, but every shift only drew her closer to unraveling completely.

Then, suddenly, the sensations eased, leaving Karina collapsing into the mattress. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath as relief mixed with exhaustion, her body trembling in the aftermath of the intensity. The storm had passed, but her emotions churned restlessly beneath the surface. The earlier anniversary dinner weighed on her heavily—a night cut short, the guilt of leaving the call unfinished pressing uncomfortably on her chest.

Unable to bear the feeling any longer, she reached for her phone. Her fingers trembled slightly as she scrolled to your name and pressed the call button. The line barely rang once before your familiar, warm voice answered.

“Babe?” you said, tinged with surprise and concern. “Is everything okay?”

Karina smiled faintly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I just wanted to check in,” she began, hesitating. “About earlier. Leaving dinner like that—I felt terrible. I wanted to hear your voice… to make up for it.”

The soft chuckle on the other end sent a soothing wave of warmth through her chest. “I miss you,” you admitted, your tone gentle and full of affection. “It’s been hard without you here.”

“Tell me about it,” Karina murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I feel it every second.”

A brief silence passed before you spoke again, hesitating as though deciding whether to share your next thought. “You know,” you started softly, “that doll you left behind… It actually helps. I don’t know who made it or how it’s so realistic, but holding it… it reminds me of you. It’s comforting in a weird way.”

Karina’s heart raced at your confession, but she kept her tone steady. “Then hold it,” she said gently. “Cuddle it, like you normally do with me.”

There was a pause on your end, followed by the faint rustle of fabric as you adjusted yourself. Karina closed her eyes, imagining you settling into the bed. Then, like a spark igniting, she felt it—an unmistakable warmth wrapping around her, soft and steady, just like your embrace. A quiet gasp escaped her lips, her body easing into the comforting sensation as her chest filled with an indescribable lightness.

She could feel the gentle pressure of your arms encircling her, the way they always seemed to ground her, pulling her close and making her feel safe. The phantom weight of your hand rested on her back, warm and reassuring, while the faint brush of your breath against her hair felt so real she could almost lean into it. Her body sank deeper into the mattress as she surrendered to the illusion, her heart swelling with a mix of longing and relief.

“It’s perfect,” you said after a moment, your voice rich with affection. “Almost like you’re here.”

Karina hummed softly, her mind drifting into a haze of peace and contentment. She tilted her head slightly, as though nuzzling into your chest, and the sensation met her as if you were truly there. The phantom pressure of your heartbeat against hers resonated, steady and soothing, its rhythm lulling her into a rare sense of calm. Her breaths deepened, syncing with yours as she felt the warmth of you—not just physically but emotionally—envelop her entirely.

Her legs relaxed against the bed, the earlier tension melting away as the embrace seemed to tighten around her. She could feel the way you would normally hold her, firm but tender, your hands moving subtly, like you always adjusted to make her more comfortable. It was so vivid, so intimate, that she couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh. The connection she felt—the closeness—bridged every mile between you, anchoring her in a love that felt as tangible as the bed she lay on.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics—your plans for the week, a funny story about something that happened at work, and little observations about the house—Karina hummed absently, her voice soft and dreamy. Her body felt lighter, weightless even, as if she were floating in the comfort of your arms. Her shoulders, always tense from the pressures of the tour, eased fully into the mattress as her lips curled into a faint smile.

“You should’ve seen it,” you said with a laugh. “The way it played out, it was like something out of a sitcom.”

Her hum grew fainter, the embrace and your voice working together to lull her further into relaxation. She could feel the warmth of your chin resting gently against the top of her head, the comforting sensation of being fully encased in your love. The faintest brush of what felt like your fingers grazed along her arm, and her body responded instinctively, her skin tingling as she leaned further into the feeling.

Unbeknownst to her, back in your room, you shifted closer to the doll, your body responding instinctively to the memory of Karina’s warmth. The moment reminded you of all the quiet times you’d shared before, when she’d curl into you, content and serene, indulging in the quiet intimacy.

It had always been her way of staying close, of feeling connected without urgency, and the thought tugged at your chest. Without thinking, you pressed deeper into the doll’s lifelike folds, its warmth enveloping you in a way that felt startlingly familiar. Pulling it impossibly close, you murmured into the phone, “Do you know how much I miss this? Just holding you like this.”

Karina didn’t answer; her hum had faded into a faint, contented sigh. But the moment you settled fully into the doll, she felt it—a slow, steady fullness building inside her, grounding her in ways words couldn’t describe. Her breaths deepened, your touch wrapping around her like a cocoon. The sensation of you filling her wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a tether binding her to you.

Her legs shifted restlessly, her body reacting instinctively to the steady warmth coursing through her. The subtle pulsing from within deepened the haze of comfort and security enveloping her. It wasn’t urgent or demanding—just a steady, grounding presence that filled her with a connection she hadn’t realized she craved. She melted into the sensation, her body yielding completely as a quiet, contented sigh escaped her lips.

“I miss you so much” you murmured again, your voice tinged with longing and affection.

Karina didn’t answer; her body was too relaxed, too wrapped in the comfort of your embrace and the subtle rhythm inside her. Moments later, the faintest, most delicate snore reached your ears, and a warm chuckle escaped your lips.

“Sleep tight, baby,” you whispered into the phone, your voice brimming with tenderness. “I love you.”

Back at your house, you remained there for a while, holding the doll as the call stayed connected. The sound of her calm, even breaths filled the quiet room, creating a sense of closeness that bridged the miles between you. You smiled softly to yourself, knowing she’d finally found peace. It was the best sleep Karina had since the tour began—a sleep steeped in love, comfort, and the feeling of being wrapped in your arms, no matter the distance.

1K notes · View notes

spideyanakin · 1 month ago

Note

Omg requests for fiyero!

How about an angsty childhood best friends to strangers to lovers? Maybe growing up together, parting ways and then reuniting at shiz?

Thank you!

purple butterflies (fiyero. t)

synopsis ➾ gn! reader, purple butterflies and strawberry tarts; the memories of him who turned bittersweet with growing up. He replaced them with lovers and careless days. You replaced the memories with studying and focusing on your future, never thinking your new worlds would ever collide. [w.c 4k]

warnings ➾ reader is heartbroken and sassy, angst, fiyero being cute, me being shit at science and inventing my own rules bc let's face it this takes place in a magic land

authors note - omg stop I ADORE this request, I've had so much fun writing this <3 hope you like it. also i hope i didn't miss any accidental pronouns, i wanted to make this gn, lmk if i did!.

fiyero masterlist

main masterlist

and strawberry tarts (p.2)

Purple butterflies and strawberry tarts. If you were careful you could still taste the faint sourness of the fresh strawberries from the grounds of Kiamo Ko. The freshly made dough and the sugar sprinkled on top, caramelised just enough to balance it with soft bitterness.

But now it seemed the bitterness conquered it all. Turned the strawberries tasteless, the pie crust burnt to an overbearing crisp and the sugar overcooked, with it chased away the butterflies and turned the grass greener on the other side.

Kiamo Ko had been left empty by the prince a long time ago. When his turbulent personality started bubbling up to the surface, the king and queen started to grasp every straw they possibly could, clinging for any solution to mend their son’s behavior.

When the list of tutors fell short, by the twentieth one who ran out of the castle with freshly broken glasses and a dirt stained shirt, howling scandal as he pushed himself through the doors—it had been a final decision. Fiyero was to be sent to boarding school.

With him gone, emptiness was brought to Kiamo Ko, and his family decided to move away. To another castle, another place that would better suit their new needs.

Your family was thanked for their service. Your father retired from his duties in the royal guard, and stayed behind to tend your farm. Only your eldest brother had accompanied the royals in their new life.

It's not like you wanted to become strangers. You tried to grasp at your friendship. Sending him letter after letter. But when the letters went unanswered, you were left with a universe of unanswered feelings. Unanswered questions that would forever cloud your heart.

With that, the prince became a distant memory. Chasing fluorescent purple butterflies in the gardens of Kiamo Ko at night and eating his mother's strawberry tarts became faded dreams.

Your only source of information became gossips and your brother's occasional letter, reporting on Fiyero's short stays at the new castle.

You heard he had asked about you, once, maybe twice. But as years passed, and his interests fully shifted, so did yours.

Your vile was running out of ink. Your fingers were stained blue, from your palm to the very tips of your fingers--stains you would struggle removing.

Your scribbles were getting rougher. You needed to finish this, you wanted to finish this before the clock struck three. You were getting a headache, your blueish hand was cramping, and you were starting to stain the parchment.

But people were squeaking, whispering, and where the library once felt quiet and peaceful it now felt like a coffee shop on saturday afternoons, filled to the brim with gossipers.

You continued scribbling. Something about Munchkinland being saved from rebels. A leader, a general was involved in the lot, you couldn't remember his name, you wanted to remember his name. So you continued to fill the paper with nonsense until his name would come to your mind.

But you were running out of ink. The loops felt lighter, were lighter, you wouldn't have enough to finish. So you pressed th quill further on the page. You continued to write, a sentence than another, a word than another.

Snap.

Fuck. Your feather snapped in half.

"Dammit."

"You alright?" Elphaba broke your turbulent mind, glancing towards you.

That's when she noticed; the broken quill, the stained hands, the essay dirtied in front of you.

"Fine," you mumbled, throwing the quill aside. "I thought I could finish this today."

"It's not due til next week, you'll be fine."

"Hm," you wanted to rub your forehead, but quickly realised it wouldn't be a good idea.

Elphaba saw it, she fished for her handkerchief in her pocket and handed it to you.

You thanked her, cursing again when you realised the extent of the mess on your fingers.

"What's going on?" She asked when another sigh escaped your lips.

"Nothing," you mumbled. "I have a headache, I'm hungry, tired-"

"You're working too much."

"I need to pass this class. Since Mr. Dillamond left-"

"I know. We're all in the same situation here, don't worry about it."

"Right..." You continued wiping your fingers. She was right. The whole class had been going on a down spree since the new teacher arrived. He was harsh, focused on shallow things from history you shouldn't be studying. Where once it was about analyzing the impact history had on the lands of today, his class became about glorifying the heroes still alive and spreading propaganda.

It didn't help that the whole school seemed to be brewing with anticipation. Your gaze caught once again for the fourth time that day; three students whispering and giggling to each other about something. They were squeaking and blushing.

"What is going on?" You huffed, twisting the handkerchief.

"A prince arrived at school or something."

"Prince?" You raised an eyebrow. You wondered who it could possibly be. Most princes of Oz had already graduated university, and as far as you knew, Fiyero was on the other side of Oz studying at Killimand.

"Oh Oz," you cursed, one of your bracellets had been contaminated by the ink. You wanted to cry, or maybe it was just the nerves from the day building up. This was your favorite. It had too many memories attached, memories you didn’t want to forget just yet.

"What happened?"

"Bracelet's stained," you tried to clean it but it kept falling from your grip.

"Here, let me help," she grabbed your wrist and the handkerchief.

Indeed the small butterfly wing pendant had been stained by blue.

"Here," she smiled, wiping it clean. "All good." She dropped your hand and placed the fabric back in her pocket. "It's pretty," she noticed as you checked it. "Anyone has the other half?"

"How do you know it has another half?"

"It's half a butterfly," she suggested and you smiled at the observation.

"It is. I don't think anyone has the other half," you replied with a tight smile. You knew the other half had existed, but whether or not it still did, or was still worn by its owner was another question. You started to fold your essay and clean your writing supplies. "So, this prince?"

"Oh, yeah, everyone is already swooning over him. Stumbled across him, he didn't seem like the brightest."

"Does he have a name?"

"It's that Winkie prince, Fiyero something-"

"Fiyero Tigelaar?" You gulped, and your face must have fallen because Elphaba scrunched her eyebrows.

"You know him?"

"N-no," you quickly shook your head, "just heard of him... Everyone has-" you breathed, why your hands were getting clammy?

"I'm going to go, I'll see you tomorrow," you collected the last of your stuff. Shoving your books and quill in your bag faster than you realised.

Elphaba looked so confused, you almost felt bad, almost wanted to turn around to apologize, but your mind was already on overdrive. Your chest was starting to uncontrollably heave--you needed to get out, quickly.

Fiyero was here? At Shiz?

If you thought you were having a bad day, you didn't think it could get any worse. The one person that you thought you would never see again was now roaming the very halls of your University. You'd probably share a class or two with him if you were truly that unlucky.

Oz, what did you do to deserve this?

Would he even remember you? Would he even realize the heartache he had caused you?

Would he remember what he had told you that night under the stars when it was official he would be leaving to boarding school? How he had held your hand, squeezed it so tight so you would remember his touch.

Would he even remember chasing purple butterflies for the last time together that night. How impatient he had been, how he scared them, making them flutter away, only for the small creatures to circle the both of you.

How the butterflies, the moonlight, and the silent trees were the only other witnesses to him kissing you.

Your first kiss.

His first kiss.

Though it would be his first kiss of many; a start to a life of accumulated lovers, you reminded yourself as you clenched your books a little tighter.

You had just been his first victim.

That night, under the stars of Winkie country as fluorescent purple butterflies swarmed around you, as his hand slithered around your waist, the other brushing the apple of your cheek in a sealing touch. That night he had sealed the fate of your heart with his lips.

Because the next morning he had left you and Kiamo Ko behind with no regrets, only preparing himself for his new life ahead.

"And so this is the library," Glinda's voice mumbled over your ears. You were too focused on your boiling thoughts to even register her, or to notice the figure trailing behind her.

You royally bumped into them, full strength as you attempted to dart out of the library.

Whoever he was; he was strong. Years of training behind him as you felt his arm wrap around your shoulder in attempt to cushion the crash.

"Wow hey there, watch out," his voice was soft, charming, familiar almost- "Ranger!?" He squeaked in delight. Your mind swirled, no one had called you that since-

Fiyero.

You opened your eyes to meet his.

Indeed you were face to face with him, his arms still wrapped around you.

He was older, but then so were you. He didn't change a bit though, still as handsome, maybe even more charming than before. You found yourself staring up at the same blue eyes, the same grin you remembered and loved.

Your heart looped in your chest, and that's when you knew you had to get out of here, quickly.

But as he looked at you his eyes sparkled, and the brightest smile you had ever seen him wear raised upon his features, somehow your feet were stuck in place.

"Oh Oz! How have you been?" Fiyero did not hesitate to cage you in his arms again, and suddenly you couldn't breathe.

His hug was perfect. Just like you remembered. As if the years had never passed and you still fitted against one another like two pieces of a puzzle.

Two wings of the same butterfly.

You felt incapable of reciprocating the hug. He didn't feel the same, yet he felt exactly like you remembered. He smelled the same, jasmin, fresh roses and leather, almost intoxicating as the memories came crashing through again.

You wanted to cry. Right there in the middle of the Shiz library, as his arms were wrapped around you; you wanted to cry.

Suddenly you craved Cruck, your rabbit stuffed animal that you left behind under the soft covers of your childhood room. You wanted to be tucked into your pastel sheets by your mother. You wanted to fall asleep with a smile on your lips as you remembered the day's adventure. That sleep would take you as you dreamt of the roses of Kiamo Ko; because you knew you would wake up just to run to them again the next morning.

Because you knew that after your mother attempted to have you eat breakfast, you would run back to the castle just to find Fiyero waiting for you up in the tree by the gates.

You almost melted into the hug. Almost.

Because after the jasmin, the roses and the leather there had been heartbreak. The lost letters, the unanswered calls. The empty promises.

"I'm alright," you attempted, still crushed in his grip.

"You two know each other?" Galinda squeaked behind her books. Eye brows scrunching, of course she would be the one showing him around.

"Yeah!" Fiyero bounced on his heels, loosening his grip on you.

He was gazing at you as if you were a wonder of the world and you did not like it one bit.

Hand still on your shoulder, people were starting to gather around, curiosity getting the best of them. After all, you had suddenly become a competition in the conquering of his heart.

But the more eyes were on you, the tenser you felt--and Fiyero did not seem to care or even notice.

"Yeah! Her brother works for the royal guard, we grew up together! Oz! How have you been?" He repeated, and you blinked--was he truly this happy to see you?

You wanted to disappear into the books, melt into the shelves, and be one with the stories.

"I've been fine," it was colder, drier than you wished. You didn't want to speak to him that way, but you couldn't help yourself. "I have to go Fiyero."

He almost seemed disappointed. You almost felt bad.

"See you around?"

You didn't reply.

You left without even glancing back to him.

The clock was ticking painfully slow, and you watched as Mr. Willows grabbed yet again another bicker from the shelves by his side.

He placed it on his desk and stepped towards the small glass greenhouse. Five small bright neon blue mushrooms stood proudly atop a mound of dirt.

He delicately removed the glass top of the greenhouse and the mushrooms suddenly lost all their fluorescence, turning grey white. You carefully watched as he plucked one right out and dropped it into the bicker.

As he placed the glass jar back on top and the mushroom's colors shone brightly again, he grumbled in his low voice, "Now, do you know what causes their fluoresces?" He turned his glass-hidden eyes towards the twenty-six heads in front of him.

No answers.

You hesitated, but giggles stopped you. Giggles coming from the back left of the classroom, not far from the door.

In the quiet of the room, all eyes turned to them. Of course, they had bloomed from Fiyero's chest, and you eyed as he leaned back in his chair smirking, with a blushing Galinda by his side.

"Is there something funny Mr. Tigelaar?"

Fiyero seemed to be taken aback, but he brushed it off just as quickly, "no, please continue with what you were saying."

"Can you answer the question for me?"

He blinked.

"Could you repeat the question?"

"What causes the fluoresce of those mushrooms?"

"The fact that they're magic?" Fiyero poorly offered, and you were sure it had caused a laugh from a red-headed girl sitting across you.

Mr. Willows sighed, placing his glasses further up his nose.

"Anyone else?"

"It's caused by the chemical reaction of their molecules when it's exposed to dark lights. The moon is enough to light them in nature, but during the day, to see it you'd have to place it in special glass, like the one you have, Sir."

"Very good. At least someone is paying attention."

You missed the grin Fiyero was throwing you.

"Hey, Ranger!" His voice caught in your ears, tangling like honey and seeping through every parts of you.

You were tempted to escape, but somehow he had melted your feet to the ground, and all you could do was wait for him to catch up, "still love being the smarter one I see?" He offered, leaning to you with a sly grin.

What game was he playing?

"Fiyero, it was a simple answer, you should have known that."

"Will you come to the Oz dust tonight?"

"No. I've got to study."

"C'mon! It will give us a chance to catch up!"

"No," your reply was stern, and you could almost catch a glimpse of disappointment across his features; same as this morning in the library.

"Do it for me, please?" he pouted, big blue eyes sparkling again--and suddenly you were back in the gardens of Kiamo Ko, with a pleading boy prince, begging that you join on his mischief.

"I'll think about it," you sighed, tightening your grip on your books as you started bouncing on your heels to leave. Oz, you'd have to work on the effects his charm had on you.

You were over him.

You had been over him for years, or so you thought.

"You better be there," he pointed out.

"I'll think about it," you repeated, giving him a short smile before finally disappearing into a corridor.

"So what was that about? Your dramatic, I don't know Fiyero, but I clearly do?" Elphaba raised an eyebrow, looking up from her book.

"It's nothing," you huffed, focusing on your history book. You turned around on your bed, your back towards Elphaba in a silent plea to stop the questions.

"I'm calling it bullshit."

"I'm allowed my secrets," you mumbled against your pillow.

"No," she grinned. "Not with the way he was staring at you."

"Same way he stares at everyone."

"Galinda will beg to differ. She's been pestering me with questions about you all day!"

You heard shuffling from behind you, and glanced from the corner of your eye to see Elphaba closing her book and marching the few steps towards you.

"Then let her think. It will do her some good to use that brain of hers," you turned your focus back on your textbook--eyes squinting as you turned the page; only to be met with Winkie Country in bold black letters, with a drawing of the plains and cities below it.

"Ugh," you harshly closed the book, slapping it across the bed.

"Will you tell me at least?" You barely noticed as she sat by the foot of your bed.

"There's nothing much to say," your eyes met hers. "We grew up together, then we lost contact."

"And nothing else happened?"

"No," you lied.

"I refuse to believe that."

"That's what you will have to do, sorry," you sighed and stared at your ceiling lamp, a pretty purple crystal flower blooming from the ceiling.

"Right..." She paused in thought, you were almost curious as to what she would say next. "Well I don't, and I'll keep pestering you about it."

"It's almost curfew, you need to get back to your dorm," you mumbled, sitting up and grabbing your hair brush from your bedside table.

"Stop changing the subject," she warned. "Galinda's probably there getting ready with her two shadows anyway."

"Tweedle dee and Tweedle dumb," you laughed to yourself, starting to detangle your hair. "Are you going to the Oz dust with them?"

"No. You?"

You shook your head no, snuggling deeper into the cushions of your bed.

"I heard Fiyero asked you to come," she teased.

"You heard nothing," you pointed to her with the tip of your hair brush. "Now get out before I throw that book in your face," you accentuated your words by pushing your textbook toward her with your toes.

"Fine," she chuckled. "I'm warning you, I'll get the answers out of you somehow," and with those words, she disappeared through the doors of your dorm, leaving you alone with the shadows of your thoughts.

Your eyes went back to the lamp on your ceiling before fluttering closed. You sighed through your nose, heart squeezing in your chest.

Pictures of a dancing boy in a pastel green suit flashed before your closed eyes before you could stop them. The polished marble floors of the great hall as music flowed. Your father in a uniform, adorned by medals; a change to his usual knight's armor you rarely saw him out of. Your mother in her most beautiful dress by his side.

Fiyero dragging you through the dancing bodies, causing havoc once again. The Queen scolding him later that evening.

You almost expected to open your eyes to the beautiful adorned ceiling of Kiamo Ko's great hall, but when you did, you weren't met with the familiar stained glass. You weren't met with the family portraits of generations of Tigelaars.

You were met with that damned purple ceiling lamp.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to go...

Maybe you could get some answers out of him?

Maybe you could finally get some closure.

But could you handle the hypocrisy? Could you handle seeing him dancing with Galinda, just for him to look at you with puppy dog eyes the second she was out of his sight?

Your outfit felt tight against your body. Tighter than it usually did. The purple mesh pooled around you perfectly as you walked, trailing behind you gracefully with each step. For a golden second, you felt like you belonged here, walking down the steps of the Oz dust.

The music was loud, echoing through the cave in its gripping melody. People were cheering, singing lyrics you did not know, and it suddenly felt as if you were drowning, maybe you were. Caged under the ocean in a bubble of music, sweat, and fairy dust.

That's when you spotted him. He was dancing with a boy you shared mathematics with. Jory, a tall handsome blonde that had most students swooning before Fiyero had stepped a foot at Shiz.

You noticed Galinda was nowhere to be found, nor was Elphaba.

You breathed.

You could do this.

If your biggest fear was Galinda's judgment, and she wasn't even there, then why was your heart beating out your chest the more your feet took you down the stone steps?

You twisted the fabric of your sleeves as you darted towards the bar. You smiled at the waiter before ordering your drink, your rings clinking with your coins as you placed them on the marble counter. to pay.

And suddenly he was there. Like a shadow he appeared, attracted to you like a moth to a flame.

"You came," there was a smile in his voice you couldn't deny. It made you at a loss for words, awkwardly swallowing as you figured out what you should say.

"Where's your date?" You finally spoke, keeping your gaze focused on your hands on the counter.

"Left with her roommate."

"Hm,"

"I'm glad you're here," his voice was soft over the music, yet you could still hear it just as clearly.

You didn't reply, simply smiled before turning your attention to the drink the waiter slid to you.

You took a sip, bathing in the silence between you.

Fiyero's silence was loud, so loud your ears were ringing.

Before you could even register, his hand reached to yours. Pinky finger searching your own on the polished counter. You watched, unable to let your attention fly from his hand. The moment felt painfully slow, and too fast all at once.

Suddenly you saw it, the pull of your butterfly pendent.

You noticed his only after, the golden bracelet amidst the myriad of others; leather cuffs, silver, and gold chains. But the one you had placed upon his wrists years ago was still there, and as his hand crept closer, the two pendants collided like they were meant to.

The magnets merged and the purple butterfly was whole again.

Two wings of the same butterfly.

You gazed up to see him, just to find his eyes already on yours.

Neither of you spoke, scared to break the silence.

Your vision was getting blurry, your breath was becoming chopped. Now you really felt like you were drowning.

Drowning in a myriad of purple butterflies.

You were back in that forest. His eyes were the ones of a small boy again, standing amidst the gardens of his home. The jasmin, the roses and the leather were engulfing you whole, filling your lungs to the brim.

"Dance with me."

"We shouldn't-"

"Please?"

#prince fiyero 🫧#fiyero #fiyero tigelaar #fiyero x you #fiyero imagine #fiyero x reader #fiyero tigelaar x you #fiyero tigelaar x y/n #fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero tigelaar imagine

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wafflefries13 · 21 days ago

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First Date Ideas (Multi TWST Cast X Reader)

Summary: Short drabbles of where you would take your favorite Twisted Wonderland guy on a first date, and where he would take you.

AN: Pseudo part 2 to the asking-out fic I posted. Not really much else to say besides I really liked trying to come up with a bunch of unique ideas. Thanks for reading!

Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Warnings: Fluff

Part 1: Asking them out

Ace:

Where you take him: Arcade

It’s fun, it’s cozy, it’s classic, and it gives Ace a chance to show off. You both get a bunch of tokens, eat greasy pizza, and try your hand at the games. You take each other on in skeeball and Ace tries to convince you to go against him in the basketball game but you argue he has an unfair advantage. So you settle for the racing simulator. After, when you collect all your tickets, you pour over the prize counter, probably ending up with something not very impressive, or maybe a snow cone maker that stops working after the first three uses. But you’ll treasure it since it’s loaded with memories.

Where he takes you: Carnival

This boy is already a clown, put him back where he belongs. Besides the fact that it gives him an excuse to impress you by winning prizes at the games alley, or trying to anyway, a carnival date fits Ace’s high energy. You can share popcorn and cotton candy while watching the circus acts and Ace will whisper to you explanations for the tricks the magician uses. There’s plenty of stuff to do and tons of fried food. It’s a classic for a reason. And he’d love it if you hold on to him on the rollercoasters. He ends up screaming more than you.

Deuce:

Where you take him: Petting zoo

I just want to see Deuce fawning over baby chicks, is that so much to ask? NGL, I think he’d love it. You could go to some sort of tourist farm and check out the cows getting milked, sheep shearing or sheepdog herding, and collect eggs from the chickens (the kind that don’t hatch into chicks). I can also see Deuce getting into a grudge match against a goat that keeps bonking into his legs with his horns. At the end of the day you’ll sit at a picnic table eating some treats made at the farm and watch the sunset.

Where he takes you: Botanical garden

Deuce would want to do something classic, a surefire, tried and tested dating spot. I can imagine him being nervous, getting you flowers when you are already going to see more flowers. You’ll hold the flowers in one hand and Deuce’s, slightly sweaty, hand in the other. If they have a butterfly room, even better. They’ll have a little booklet with different species and you and Deuce go on a scavenger hunt to identify as many as possible. Winner gets kisses.

Trey:

Where you take him: At home food science experiment kits

Did you ever see those at home science food kits where you made gummies and foam and other candy, usually themed to something really weird like monsters or worms? Yeah, you do those, half making fun of how weird it looks and half marveling at the cool effects of swirling all the different ingredients together. Will they taste amazing? Probably not, but Trey probably knows a few cool tricks to make everything a little more edible.

Where he takes you: Chocolate factory tour

Have you ever been to Hersheypark in Pennsylvania? There’s a whole section with a little dark ride that shows you the history of chocolate (that’s worse since they took the singing cow animatronics out), a cute interactive play, a trolly ride with chocolate samples, and two chocolate making experiences. You can stuff a giant Reese’s Cup (which is way too sweet IMO) or design your own chocolate bar including the wrapping. Anyway, there’s probably not a one-to-one replica, but with all that magic you can’t tell me there’s not something Willy Wonka-esque. You’ll both spend the day learning about the history of chocolate and chocolate making in Twisted Wonderland, capped off by making all kinds of treats. You’ll experiment with typical flavors, like raspberry, caramel, and nuts, to the more extraordinary, like jalapeno, lavender, and cheese. In the end, you’ll go home with a full box and a picture of the two of you, melted chocolate smearing your faces. (Trey will remind you at least three times to brush your teeth properly after all that sugar.)

Cater:

Where you take him: Thrift store

Listen, you find the right thrift store and you can find amazing treasures. And if not, well, you still find weird, kitschy stuff you can have fun ogling. You and Cater will take turns finding the best and worst outfits in the thrift store, having a makeshift fashion show by the changing rooms. Cater would, of course, take plenty of pictures for Magicam, labeling them #MeetMyNewPartner, #HeightOfFashion, #BestLookingCouple. You’ll also look through the aisles, coming up with backstories for all the various objects people have donated over the years. Whether or not you actually buy something isn’t the point. You end the day with plenty of pictures and at least three inside jokes that will drive everyone else crazy.

Where he takes you: Crafting class

There’s been an emergence of cute crafting stores. Make your own bag, make your own candle, paint your own pottery, make a phone case, rug tufting, that kind of thing. Not only are they a cute and totally Magicamable couples activity, it also gives you both something to take home at the end of the day. Whichever you do, I can see you both making a craft for each other. Maybe you keep what you’re doing a secret until the end, filming your reactions when you reveal your crafts. If you pay close attention later on, you can catch him quietly admiring your gift.

Riddle:

Where you take him: Escape room

Back during the NRC Halloween event, when everyone was stuck in the ghost realm, Riddle had a ton of fun solving those puzzles. I think he would love an escape room, finding clues and undoing locks, using logic and guile to uncover the story. He might get frustrated at the harder puzzles, but it’s all worth it when you work together to solve everything. You get your picture taken together with a “We Escaped!” sign that you frame. It would be something unexpected but fun for the both of you. (TBH, I think he would love the Nancy Drew games. Maybe not the part where you keep breaking into people's things and stealing stuff, though.)

Where he takes you: High tea and window shopping

Riddle is going for a classic, something prim and proper for a prim and proper boy. I can see him reserving a table at a high class hotel for high tea, a table set with a beautiful porcelain teapot and a tower of tiny sandwiches and cakes. He’d order a bunch of different teas you could try. Afterwards, you would walk along the street, checking out shops and talking together. Bonus points if you both get to wear something fancy and cute.

Leona:

Where you take him: Picnic

Look, while having the title of Ramshackle Dorm Prefect sounds fancy, you don’t have a lot of extra cash. You would need to do something simple and cheap but still meeting Leona’s royal tastes (You can’t tell me this boy isn’t a picky eater.) Thanks to the Culinary Crucible, you have a few new skills to test out. You find a big blanket in some old trunk in Ranshakle and pack everything together in a cute wicker basket. Maybe you’ll eat in the gardens where Leona always takes naps or go out on the beach to watch the waves. You both end up falling asleep with full bellies. (Leona won’t admit it, but he feels like that was the best food he’s had in a long time.)

Where he takes you: River cruise with a fancy dinner

Leona is going to see your cute picnic date and immediately one ups it with a super fancy and elegant river cruise with a full five course meal. It’s on a beautiful private yacht sailing down a river in the Sunset Savannah. You’ll sit on the deck, candlelight table, while perfectly dressed waiters serve you. This would probably backfire on Leona, though, as you tease him for acting the most prince-ly you’ve ever seen him. Not that you don’t have a ton of fun. By the time dessert rolls around, you’ve both ditched the fancy setting and started skipping stones in the wake of the boat.

Jack:

Where you take him: Canoeing

Something relaxing and outdoorsy and fun. I’m thinking you’ll find someplace like the Ocklawaha River or Crystal River in Florida. A beautiful river with plenty of turtles and fish to spot, surrounded by lush forests or Everglades. If you’re more confident on the water, maybe you each can have a kayak, but I imagine something like you both share a boat. It would be fun to have a sort of eye-spy sheet, like who can spot the most turtles, identify fish, maybe catching sight of a manatee, and, wait, was that an alligator? You’ll end your journey at a natural spring. Dumping your stuff in the canoes, you’ll jump in and spend the rest of the day swimming in the cool water. Maybe you find a good vine or rope and swing out over the water.

Where he takes you: Zip Lining and high ropes course

More high energy and involved than a lazy day river trip, but it gives you two the chance to be close. I can almost guarantee Jack found out about the place you go to from Coach Vargas. You’ll get hooked up into harnesses and climb up to a vast network of bridges and ladders and obstacle courses hung between the trees like a giant athletic spiderweb. Maybe at one point you slip, and, although you’re perfectly safe with the harness system, Jack still lunges forward to catch you, blushing hard after as he realizes how close you too are.

Ruggie:

Where you take him: Food festival

I imagine something like the Plant City Strawberry Festival, the Wilton Blueberry Festival, or the Gilroy Garlic Festival. Heck, even throw in the Epcot Food and Wine Festival if you want to have another Disney reference. Something county fair-like with plenty of free samples. You’re not sure who convinced who, but at some point you end up getting those cheesy headbands with springs on top and plastic versions of food bobbing around your heads. There always seems to be sketchy fair rides at these things, too, so you definitely cling to each other going down a log flume ride, kind of regretting how much you ate beforehand. But that’s not going to stop you from chowing down after.

Where he takes you: Farmer’s market

Listen, if something is good at a farmer’s market, then you know it’s the best. The big ones not only have plenty of great food, but also local performers and plenty of fun extras to buy. Even if you don’t want to buy anything, it’s fun walking through the crowds and seeing all the different stands. You definitely get some super fancy ice cream, probably with some ridiculous flavors like lavender, parmesan, or licorice. Serving sizes always seem huge too, so you both definitely go home with plenty of leftovers. (You totally don’t notice that Ruggie has been paying with Leona’s credit card this whole time.)

Azul:

Where you take him: Game shop

One of Azul’s vignette stories has him practicing throwing dice so many times until he’s able to completely control what numbers will come up. Sure, he might be in the board game club for fun, but also because he likes to win. So a game shop that hosts weekly game nights would be perfect not only for him to show off and impress you, but also a cozy space to have fun and take the pressure off first date jitters. Whether you have a game with just the two of you or join in with other patrons there, you can team up to strategize and win. I personally think something like One Night Werewolf would be perfect. (He does feel bad when he accuses you of being the werewolf, though. Too bad he’s right.)

Where he takes you: Fancy restaurant

It’s nothing compared to the Monstro Lounge, of course, But Azul is putting his best foot forward with a classic first date spot. Azul plans everything down to the most minute detail. He double and triple checks the menu of where you’re going before you even leave to make sure there’s nothing you’re allergic to and there’s something you’ll like. He goes all out: flowers, pulling out your chair, getting a bottle of something fancy and expensive to drink (non-alcoholic if you prefer). Of course, the moment you start complimenting him he turns red and starts tumbling over his words. Maybe you lean into that, enjoying teasing him, the switch from having everything under control to a mess of complex emotions. Still, you slide your hand across the table taking his, and you both have a perfect night.

Jade:

Where you take him: Make your own tea blend shop

Jade is an experimental guy. I think if he wasn’t the founder of the mountain lovers club he probably would be in the science club just to mix together every kind of chemical just to see what happens. You would take him to a small tea shop, maybe in town on Sage’s Island or somewhere else through the mirror portal. You would pick out matching tea cups then choose different flavors and leaves from the jars of dried tea. You could make up little packets of different custom blends, some of them stuff you actually think would taste good, some that just sound interesting all together. You and Jade could trade and drink them together back at the Monstro Lounge.

Where he takes you: Mountain and cave hike

This is kind of a gimme, but I think he’d want to show off all his knowledge of local mountain flora and fauna. He’s the only member of his club, which gives you plenty of time to be alone together and use the club’s budget however you want. He would surprise you by showing you an undiscovered cave entrance. Hopefully it’s not the kind where you have to crawl on your belly to get in. I like imagining something like Ruby Falls in Tennessee. He’d bring you in, turn off his lantern, and crowds of bioluminescent mushrooms would glow around you.

Floyd:

Where you take him: Roller derby

You can’t tell me this boy would not absolutely love watching a bunch of people going super fast while trying to beat the hell out of each other. He would immediately pick a favorite team and buy all their merch. Even if it’s just a small local circuit he’ll make his own merch for the two of you to wear while you cheer them on. Floyd already likes shoes, specifically sneakers, so I think he would really like the idea of roller skating, going as fast on land as he can in the sea. Your next date will be at a roller rink.

Where he takes you: Laser tag

Similar to going to a roller derby, Floyd would love the energy and competition of laser tag. He’d be vaulting over the barriers and launching sneak attacks against other players. Maybe you two would team up and top the leaderboard or maybe he’d hunt you down in the glow-in-the-dark black-light game room. Afterwards you can catch your breath in the lobby and eat junk food. You’re not sure if you’re excited or nervous when he mentions paintball.

Kalim:

Where you take him: Hands-on science museum

Coming up with a first date idea to impress Buys-A-Restaurant-Chain-Because-You-Said-You-Liked-Their-Breadsticks-Once-Kalim is a little harrowing. Sure, you know he would like whatever you have planned, it’s the thought that counts, but that doesn't mean you don’t want to try and show off a little. You eventually find a hands-on science museum. Think the Franklin Institute in Philadelphia or the Tech Museum of Innovation in San Jose or even WonderWorks. It’s something that keeps you active, jumping from exhibit to exhibit to try out all kinds of new things while pretending you're learning. Sure, most of the other people there are kids, but that doesn't stop either of you from having fun. With Kalim’s experience with all his younger siblings, you soon have a small army helping you with the replica dinosaur dig site.

Where he takes you: Fused glass class

Kalim’s first instinct is to go big. Throw a parade, rent out a theme park, buy a private island. This little ball of sunshine is way too excited to think anything through. Maybe Jamil mentions that you might be intimidated by such an overwhelming show of wealth on a first date, or maybe he implies you need to work up to something that extravagant. Whatever the case, Kalim agrees to start small. He’ll take you to a stained glass shop that offers classes in Silk City. You’ll take a fused glass class together, where you take shards and rods of other colored glass, placing them gently together in a shape. The owners fire the final product leaving you with a beautiful hand-made ornament. Kalim hangs it by his window back in his dorm room, smiling whenever the light catches it. (He’s still thinking about that private island, though.)

Jamil:

Where you take him: Aviary

Jamil mentioned in one of his vignettes that he would want to own a parrot one day. So why not give it a test run with a variety of different parrot species, and throw in some parakeets, falcons, lorikeets, and canaries while we’re at it? You buy cups of food and the birds will fly down to perch on your arms and heads. The parrots, in colors ranging from green and yellow to blue and purple and red, show you how they dance and talk. There’s a game you can play with them where you hold up different objects and they’ll tell you what they are and what they’re made of. There’s even a falconry show where the birds swoop out into the audience. At the end of the day, the tour guide makes a joke about lovebirds that you both pretend to ignore.

(BTW, did you know President Andrew Jackson had a parrot that cursed so much it had to be removed from the room during his funeral because it kept swearing? The more you know.)

Where he takes you: Dance class

Mr. Jack Of All Trades, Master Of All over here is definitely going to want to show off. No matter who asked who out first, he wants to reassure you, and himself, that you made the right choice agreeing to go out with him. So he sticks with something he knows best, something he has fun with, and something he can easily introduce you too. Whether it’s a classic ballroom dance, salsa, or classic Scalding Sands folk dancing, Jamil just loves the chance to be close to you. It might be better if you have two left feet so he can show off leading you. By the end, you're both sweaty and exhausted, muscles aching pleasantly, but you're also both laughing and wondering if you should enter a couples dance competition.

Vil:

Where you take him: DIY spa night

Like I said before, you don’t exactly have a lot of extra cash, so I can see you relying on a lot of DIY tricks. You’re hoping to impress one of Twisted Wonderland's biggest triple threats with scented candles (bought half-off at Sam’s), homemade avocado hair masks, coconut oil and honey face masks, and a jade face roller and gua sha set you have no idea how to properly use. Vil definitely appreciates effort, so he’ll love whatever you have set up. He’ll even show you how to actually use that jade roller and gua sha.

Where he takes you: Private movie theater

Let’s be honest, Vil isn’t exactly the most humble person. And you, a magicless student with pretty much no frame of reference for any pop culture or just plain cultural insights in this new world, are in the perfect position for him to show off. Vil would rent out a private theater showing the best and most iconic movies in all of Twisted Wonderland. Of course, he also shows you all of his films (Like I said, not so humble). He may give you the side eye when you insist on sharing a bucket of buttery popcorn, but if you gasp and laugh and applaud in all the right places I don’t think he’ll mind.

Rook:

Where you take him: Art museum

Quelle beaute! No matter what kind of art museum you choose, modern, sculpture, impressionist, classical, whatever, Rook is sure to love it. He’d be the kind of person to carefully read each plaque to discover more about the artist and what inspired their work. He’ll praise each and every piece, only to turn around and compare it to your beauty. While this definitely will get you a few looks from some of the other visitors, you won’t mind because you know he’s being completely sincere with every word. At the end of the day, you’ll probably end up with an art book from the gift shop and you get each other prints of your favorite paintings.

Where he takes you: Zoo

You can take the boy out of the hunt but you can’t take the hunt out of the boy… Or something. We know Rook has a penchant for stalking the poor beastman students at NRC (I bet they have to warn the Savannahclaw first years every year), so I think he would also love admiring animals in a place where you’re actually suppose to watch them. Extra points if there are baby animals. Extra extra points if the zoo has one of those programs where you can go back and get close up encounters with some of the animals, like sloths or elephants. You both definitely get plushies of your favorite animals after.

Epel:

Where you take him: Motorcross

Give the farm boy blood. We know from his dorm uniform vignette that he can ride a blast cycle. Checking out a motorcross race or just a show exhibition would be a high energy outing for you both. Cheering in the stands gives him a chance to cut loose from the stricter rules of decorum in Pomefiore, and sometimes it’s just fun to watch things go fast with a chance of crashing. Maybe you can rent one, or borrow one from Ingenhyde back at NRC, and go for a drive. He’ll probably go a little too fast, maybe from nerves or excitement or just to have to hold him a little tighter.

Where he takes you: Ice skating

Do you know how to skate? Great! He’ll take you out to a frozen lake in the middle of a beautiful forest near Harveston. Some place only the locals know about. It’ll be something right off a Christmas card with glitter snow and a perfect clear blue sky. Don’t know how to skate? That’s fine too! You’ll go to an indoor rink, somewhere where the ice is guaranteed to be smooth and won’t crack under your feet. If you’re just learning, please hold on to him and let him teach you, it’ll make him feel super manly and swell with pride. No matter where you go, you both get hot apple cider after, maybe cuddling together in front of a warm fireplace and sharing a warm quilt.

Idia:

Where you take him: Cat cafe

You’re going to need a good excuse to get Idia out of his room, and this is a pretty good reason. Ideally, you would find a place like Tashirojima, the cat island in Japan, but a good old cat cafe will work just as well. You’ll find the least busy time to go which should help Idia’s social anxiety. But once you both settle into plush low chairs and get surrounded by cute kitties, he won’t even notice anyone else. The cafe sells cute frozen cat treats shaped like cat paws that you buy to encourage the cats to come closer. You snuck in some catnip, and you both spend the day enveloped in cute warm kitty cuddles.

Where he takes you: Video game night

The boy is a nervous wreck around other people on his best days, so when he decides to venture on a date he’s going to go with something he’s most comfortable with. You’ll camp out in his room for the date. He’s gone to great lengths to make it nice, plenty of snacks and soft pillows and blankets. He’ll introduce you to some of his favorite but entry level games first. Maybe something Animal Crossing adjacent, but I have a soft spot for point-and-click adventure puzzle games. Eventually, you’ll end up playing doubles on something more action oriented, Idia showing you all the best tricks and combo moves. (Ortho is secretly taking pictures to show at the wedding he’s already planning for you both.)

Sebek:

Where you take him: Salmon fishing and grill

You like it because it gives a chance to get out in nature and be alone together, he likes it because he gets to catch his favorite food and prove he can be a provider. Sure, it just might be a first date, but Sebek likes to think ahead and he’s definitely taking your budding relationship seriously. You two go out into the woods, probably near where Camp Vargus was held, and set up next to a river. While most of the day is hanging out on the bank and talking, there’s always a jolt of excitement when one of your lines starts to tug and you pull out a beautiful gray and pink salmon. Sure, there was that one time when the fish slapped Sebek with his fin until it slipped from his hands, but you both agree to forget about that (you don’t forget, in fact you think about it often). Around midday, you both realize you’re kind of squeamish when it comes to cleaning fish. Sebek puts on a brave face and cuts them up while you make a campfire. Is it the best meal you’ve ever had? No, definitely not. Are you picking fish bones out of your teeth for the rest of the evening? Yeah. Did you two have a ton of fun and are already planning your next date? Of course.

Where he takes you: Tournament

Does Twisted Wonderland have Renaissance fairs? Who knows, but considering Briar Valley still has knights, they definitely have tournaments. The Bead Brawl is sort of similar to what I’m thinking, but there’s more of a focus on what we would think of as traditional medieval events. Stuff like jousting, sword fighting in full armor, and archery. I don’t think you go all the way to the Briar Valley for this, it’s probably more of a smaller local fair with less serious competition. I think Sebek will be a spectator at this event, but that doesn't stop him from commenting on the participants. He tells you about his own training with Lilia and Silver. He’ll be boastful and loud, but you know him well enough at this point to tell he’s nervous under all the bravado. He wants to make sure you’re having a good time but is too stubborn to actually ask. There are definitely giant turkey legs, homemade soda and mead, and chimney cakes to stuff yourself with. He’ll enter a visitor competition, something fun and light like an obstacle course, and win you a prize. At the end of the day there will be a traditional dance at the fair and you both twirl together under lantern light.

Silver:

Where you take him: Bookstore date

Whether a big chain store or a cute local owned place, the idea is the same. First, you both find the cheesiest romance novel cover in the store. Next, you checked out the cook books, looking for the weirdest and worst sounding recipes (you joke about getting it for Lilia then laugh at the glare he gives you). Finally, you both choose a book for the other that you’ll read then reconvene to talk about at your next date. You find him an adventure book, something you would have called epic fantasy back in your world. He gets you a collection of well known fables and myths from across Twisted Wonderland. He’s slightly worried that you’ll be insulted in his reference to your lack of cultural knowledge of your new world, but you love it, especially the gorgeous illustrations for each story.

Where he takes you: Horse riding along the beach

This can go one of two ways, depending if you know how to ride a horse/are comfortable around them. If you know how to ride, Silver will borrow someone’s horse from the equestrian club for you to ride. If not, you’ll ride behind him, arms hugged around his middle as you cuddle close. Either way, you’ll ride down to one of the beaches along Sage’s Island. You’ll ride along the beach, darting in and out of the waves. Silver will probably have packed a small picnic that you can eat while watching the sunset. He ends up nodding off for a little while you take a break lounging on some dunes, but you kind of like him leaning on your shoulder like that.

Lillia:

Where you take him: Concert in the park

A few steps down from a full on festival, I’m imagining a lush green park, couples and families spread out on blankets, food trucks surrounding everything making the park smell amazing, maybe a couple of craft tents with knick-knacks for sale. There will be a large stage set up for the bands. Lilia prefers heavy metal, but I think he would like any show that plays something high energy. You’ll set up an umbrella to give you both some shade as you watch the acts. Lilia will regale you with tales of his travels and he’d probably love hearing about all the places in your world. At some point, you both definitely spend time dancing ridiculously. Lilia takes plenty of pictures to show off back at Disamonia.

Where he takes you: Esports competition

When Muscle Red told his online bestie Gloomamurai he was trying to come up with ideas for a date, the later said, “I got you,” and set him up with front row seats to the premier esports competition in all of Twisted Wonderland. Arriving at the indoor arena, you get a giant bucket of popcorn to share and Lilia buys you some merch of his favorite team. If you don’t know a ton about esports or the game they’re playing, Lilia will be more than happy to explain the rules to you. You’re surrounded in deafening cheers when your team makes a last minute score to win, hugging each other while jumping up and down. On the way back, Lilia promises to help you set up an account for the online game and teach you the ropes, while trying to remember to thank his friend when you kiss his cheek.

Malleus:

Where you take him: Mini-golfing

You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be adorable to see a giant Malleus hunched over a mini-golf club trying to gently tap the ball into a hole. I can see him at the first hole swinging like a normal golf course, sending the ball twinkling away, Team Rocket style. Mini-golf is a classic first date, and I think he would like the normality of it all. You’re not trying to super impress him, just treating him like a normal boyfriend, a normal date. And it gives you both more time to focus on each other, between desperately trying to hit the ball through the moving fan blades of the windmill hole.

Where he takes you: Historic castle ruins

I can imagine Malleus panicking at first about where to take you for your first official date. Does he bring you to a ball in the Briar Valley? A romantic opera in perfect box seats? Do you start picking out your engagement rings? Instead, he finally decided on an old reliable choice, harking back to how you both first started bonding in the first place. He finds beautiful old ruins, either in Briar Valley or somewhere else, and you just stroll and talk. He’ll tell you about the architecture, maybe the history of the location, pointing out whatever interesting gargoyles he spots. You both understand you don’t need grand gestures or impressive and expensive dates. You’re both happiest being with each other.

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oceanicwriting · 23 days ago

Text

the rabbit.

summary: after the battle of hogwarts, you decided to leave school and live among muggles to escape from all the memories battling in your mind. it's been five years, you have a job and a small house on the outskirts of the city. for a couple of months now, a little black rabbit has been visiting you almost every night, appearing between the trees and disappearing during the day. what's the secret?

pairing(s): rabbit!animagus!theodore nott x fem!reader

a/n: i know that theo's patronus is a fox/lynx, and if he was an animagus, that would be his animal form. still i like to think that his animagus is a bunny... english isn't my first language! please, be nice.

+18 smut, mention of war, nipple play, masturbation (mostly f!receiving), fingering, cowgirl, reference to oral sex (f!receiving), cursing

ㅤㅤㅤ there he was again. that little animal that has started visiting you since your last birthday, peering into the kitchen through the glass back door, patiently waiting for you to let him in. when you go to open it, the animal comes hopping in and settles down next to the burning fireplace. you had forgotten how cold it is outside.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you want to eat something? —you ask, looking at all the vegetables you’ve cut up for dinner—. maybe… would you like a carrot?

ㅤㅤㅤyou already knew, from all the other times he’d wander around the house, that he doesn’t like carrots. every time you offered one to him, he’d wrinkle his nose for less than a second and move his mouth, making a small sound. at first, it seemed strange to you that he could understand, but you got used to it over time.

ㅤㅤㅤyou were once a student at hogwarts, a prestigious magic school, although now you live like a real muggle on the outskirts of the city. after the war and that last battle, everything had changed for you, taking courage to leave school, get a job in a non-wizard bookstore, and live like a simple mortal. every afternoon you come home to read a book, take care of the garden, or cook dinner if there are no leftovers. the magic that hogwarts had shown you no longer existed.

ㅤㅤㅤmany times, you had visitors from the magical world, friends, family, or teachers with some mission in the area. each and every one of them tried to convince you to return to that immense and hidden place. you couldn't do it. even if you tried, you knew that those memories full of nightmares and fear would not leave your cursed mind.

ㅤㅤㅤalso, there was a little black rabbit that came to you every night like it needed your company. how could you just abandon it?

ㅤㅤㅤ—should i find you a name? —you question, caressing the animal's back. your glass of wine and the book you're reading for the tenth time rest on the floor, while the little animal rests on your outstretched legs—. you can't keep calling yourself a little rabbit, right? a name...

ㅤㅤㅤyou look around the room for some idea. the paintings, decorations, and flowers that you yourself had cut from the yard. none of that seems to catch your attention, except for the jewel with a green stone embedded in a silver ring. even the animal seems to have an idea of what that means, moving its paws in affirmation.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you think of teddy? —and looking into his deep and incomprehensible blue eyes, a familiar reaction runs through your body—. teddy...

ㅤㅤㅤand just with that, you should have seen it coming.

ㅤㅤㅤit was friday afternoon, the sun about to set between the mountains behind your house and the icy wind shaking the treetops. your hands are dirty, and while you put the tools in a wooden box, you think about dinner.

ㅤㅤㅤsuddenly, between the bushes behind you, you hear the movement of the leaves. a little scared, you turn around to notice how teddy appears weakly jumping. at first, everything looked fine, but you managed to notice that his hind leg bothered him in a strange way. you don't manage to take a single step when the body of the small animal disappears and in its place is the body of a man. a man you know very well.

ㅤㅤㅤ—ted-theodore nott? —one of his legs has a large bleeding wound, and the black cape is halfway on his shoulders—. no...

ㅤㅤㅤyour heart begins to beat hard, unable to approach his motionless body or run as far away as you can. you don't even know which option you want to follow. his eyes are glued to yours as you understand everything about that magical rabbit that had accompanied you so many nights. he had always been teddy, he had always been theodore nott.

ㅤㅤㅤthere were many memories in your mind that override the words you know he is saying, unable to hear him or put your breathing in order. after all those years, after having fought against him, after having missed him and hated him. theodore nott was right in front of you as a reminder of all the lives you saw go in your own hands.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need help. i need you.

ㅤㅤㅤlistening to him talk was even worse for your fragile heart. the little sanity left in your body was in your hands, and you can't concentrate when the blood from his leg continues to stain the dying grass.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you can't be here. you have to go, theodore. i-i...

ㅤㅤㅤ—bella, please...

ㅤㅤㅤ—go away!

ㅤㅤㅤhe looks at you with a magnetic force and, letting out a small moan as he stands up, walks up to you. it's only a second that you have to escape, but you can't do anything. your entire body reacts to the simple presence of his person, his gaze, his touch, and his way of lightening the air.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need you to help me —he says, caressing your cheek so slowly that you feel your body dying at that very moment—. i will leave if you ask me, but i need your help now. you are the best healer in the magical world.

ㅤㅤㅤwith your breathing ragged, denying the part of your brain that asks to run away, you help theodore enter and lie down on the couch. from some drawers in the living room you take out a small box with herbs and elements to make ointments that will help heal the wound.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you have to keep this on the wound. here —you say, passing a healing blade to press the wound—. i must cut the energy to enchant the bands.

ㅤㅤㅤas you lower the energy of the entire house from the basement, light some candles, and go back upstairs, the silence is overwhelming. with a potion, ointment, and enchantment, theodore is much calmer now.

ㅤㅤㅤyou still can't stop the rapid pace of your heart.

ㅤㅤㅤ—now you can go. —theodore looks at you from head to toe, trying to remember your figure into some part of his mind—. you spent months coming here, treating me like a fool. i really can't believe it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—would you have let me in? —he questions, getting up from the couch with a grimace of pain. instantly, you point your wand in his direction—. we both know you wouldn't. i came looking for you, i found you and you expect me to leave. after all?

ㅤㅤㅤ—theo... please.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you want me to believe that you didn't think about me? i know you don't. i miss you, love. these five years have been nothing but torture since you left, and i... i need you.

ㅤㅤㅤyou deny, trying to erase the force that pushes the tears to your reddened cheeks. your hand starts to shake because, after all, theodore is always right. even if you wanted to escape your other life, to erase his absence or memories, you could never do it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you still with them? —you ask, in the middle of tears and afraid that the answer is affirmative—. you are still by their side, right?

ㅤㅤㅤ—i didn't come for that.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore takes your wrist to take the wand away. his other hand travels from your legs to your back, tickling every area that his large, rough hand goes over.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you have no idea how much i missed you.

ㅤㅤㅤhe gently pushes you against a furniture next to the fireplace and with a click lights the wood you had put in the morning. his hand knocks everything on the table to the floor, taking little care of the creaking of the figurines or books.

ㅤㅤㅤ—haven't you missed me? —you can't talk. his hands have slipped under your shirt, and he presses between your legs as if he couldn't wait to feel you close—. i've seen you think of me every time you look at the amulets i gave you, reading my books and caressing their pages as if they were my body. do you think i don't know about all the photos you have saved? if you had... if you had the slightest idea that we were in the same place.

ㅤㅤㅤhis lips crash against yours with such overwhelming need that you can't help but follow the movement of his mouth. his lips demanding more, squeezing your back to join his chest to yours and his hand fitting perfectly on your waist make all kinds of emotions blossom inside you.

ㅤㅤㅤyour clothes fly in all directions, and theodore's kisses begin to descend from your cheeks to your collarbone, sucking and marking your neck so that you don't forget who you belong to. the sensation of his wet lips is so overwhelming and exquisite that you can't keep your moans under control. you were going to lose your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm sorry —he whispers, then noticing the scar on your left arm—. i'm so sorry.

ㅤㅤㅤthe scar measures almost fifteen centimeters, going from your forearm to the beginning of your palm. he had made that one himself. the simple memory terrifies him, but not enough to make him lose his mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—theo, that's already in the past.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no, love. —his hands caress your hair gently—. i know how much i hurt you, how much suffering it all caused you, and why you had to leave. and i'm so sorry. the last thing i wanted was to have you away from me...

ㅤㅤㅤafter the battle at hogwarts, your entire world had fallen to pieces. theodore would never be the person you fell in love with as a teenager again, and after the war, everything became even more blurry. you can only remember the nightmare in which hundreds of classmates fell into a dark hole without being able to save them. everything broke when it was theodore nott who fell without you being able to catch him.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you —you mumble, looking into his bright, amazed eyes—. i love you, theodore. i didn't have the chance to...

ㅤㅤㅤhe didn't want to hear it, not when you looked so pretty against the firelight. unable to not touch you any longer, his palms tighten on your legs to sit, with you in his lap, on the couch. your hands begin to unbutton his white blouse, while your mouths click in an exchange of saliva.

ㅤㅤㅤyour hips begin to move at the need for friction, seeking to feel the bulge that is getting harder and harder in his pants. theodore growls every now and then at the sensation of your movement and, without resisting much longer, rips off your underwear in one go.

ㅤㅤㅤ—devilishly perfect and ready for me. —his gaze runs over your body as if he's trying not to forget it again—. were you waiting for me?

ㅤㅤㅤ—y-you have no i-idea... —you try to say, but the wetness of his mouth catching one of your nipples and his hand squeezing the other doesn't allow you to formulate anything clearly—. t-theo...

ㅤㅤㅤyour moans, which had been whispered innocently, intensified much more at the intrusion of his free hand against your clitoris. your nails dig into his shoulders, and even though you try not to move your hips against the sensation, you can't stay still.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't move. shit.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, biting your lip to try to obey the order.

ㅤㅤㅤ—theo... —you whisper, looking him straight in the eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what's wrong, babe?

ㅤㅤㅤhis fingers playing with your pussy couldn't be more precise, complicating communication.

ㅤㅤㅤ—tell me, darling. or can't you talk?

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need more. much more. —the evil smile that spreads on his lips leaves you breathless—. please.

ㅤㅤㅤhe takes your jaw to direct your mouth in a messy kiss that lasts less than you wanted, but everything gets much better after. stopping massaging your clit, he brings two fingers to his mouth, licking lasciviously and deeply. how could you avoid smiling at such an image? theodore, for his part, can only think that if he were an animal he would have looked for a way to sink his cock into you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you like what you see? —you nod strongly, eager and needy—. let's see how much you can take, shall we?

ㅤㅤㅤhis fingers, thanks to your own juices, slide without problem inside you. the warm walls of your interior feel like heaven for theodore's fingers, who doesn't ask for permission or approval to start moving his hand, curling his fingers to make you tremble and caressing every corner he reaches to hear you moan loudly.

ㅤㅤㅤhis other hand caresses your cheek with his thumb, erasing the small tears of pleasure that have run down your cheekbones.

ㅤㅤㅤyour body throbs everywhere, full of desire and intoxicated by the brown-haired boy's blue gaze. theodore was fascinated by the way you pressed yourself, splashing some of your own fluids on his clean pants and moaning shamelessly. he loved the way your tits moved with you and how your hair fell over your shoulders delicately. so fucking perfect that he could devour you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i-i'm going to cum.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no, did you think so?

ㅤㅤㅤwithout warning his fingers leave your interior, leaving a void that is quickly replaced by the beautiful sight in front of you. theodore brings his fingers to his mouth and, with his other hand, unbuttons his pants. you had forgotten how big and long he was.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you taste so fucking good, sweetheart. do you want to feel it as much as i do? tell me you hadn't forgotten...

ㅤㅤㅤyour right hand makes its way from his abdomen to his cock, spreading the precum on the tip of his length. theodore can't stifle the hoarse moan that escapes his throat at the feeling of your soft hands going up and down.

ㅤㅤㅤ—enough playing —he says, pushing your hand away and taking your hips to position you better—. i need to be inside you, now.

ㅤㅤㅤ—w-wait theo —you mumble, feeling him make his way between your wet folds—. n-no...

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need you to take it all, love. i need to bury myself in you or i'll go crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤhis words manage to relax you a little more and he, still holding your waist, pulls you down by surprise. the gasp makes you whimper, but theodore can't control himself when you wrap him up so tightly.

ㅤㅤㅤwith the help of your legs and the grip tightening on your hips you can go up and down while his hips meet yours when they push up. the sound of your skin slapping against his, moans, groans, and creaks of the couch might have been enough to make you lose your mind.

ㅤㅤㅤ—t-theodore. more...

ㅤㅤㅤhe starts to trace kisses on your torso and says—: asking for more when you get tighter and tighter, aren't you?

ㅤㅤㅤyour synchronized movements begin to become disordered by the explosive sensation building up in your sexes. theodore helps you in the last thrusts against his cock and it happens as unexpectedly as his exit from inside you. both of you exploding against each other, mixing juices in his lap.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore stays hidden on your neck for a while, kissing softly and calming his breathing. when he stops hiding, he dedicates himself to watching you for a while longer, loaded with lust and desire.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you —he says, and taking your legs, he spins you around on the couch to get on top of you—. that's why i'm not done, mia bellissima ragazza.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #slytherin boys #harry potter #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #wizarding world

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coldilikeit · 3 months ago

Text

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood

(Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 10

______________________________

Present

"This is so unfair" Percy says as he scrubs the pots and pans

It would be fine if it was normal dirty dishes and normal water...

But it's magical dirty dishes and you have to wash them with molten magic iron...

Great.

Percy sighs "I have been getting dreams... Of Grover, he tells me he's trapped on an island being held hostage by a... Cyclops, and the thing we need to save Thalia's tree is there as well- golden poncho or something"

"golden fleece. Percy, it's a fleece" you smile

"right. Fleece"

"so this calls for a quest" Annabeth says with a hint of excitement in her voice

"but..." She says

"but?" Percy questions

You grumble and scrub harshly "Tantalus won't allow it, he wants Thalia's tree to die so the barrier breaks completely, thus putting all of us at risk"

Annabeth smirks as she places the last of the dirty pot "Then we have to propose the quest to him in a way he can't say no"

______________________________

Past

"it's not (Name), maybe they switched them out, or cloned them, I just don't believe it" Damian says as he glares as the sitting figure in the garden of their house

The office is dark and a bit humid, Jason speaks up "When 'it' got out, they couldn't remember anything and 'it' only started to remember after a few minutes, like it was processing memories, 'it' could be a clone"

"Even if it is a clone, it doesn't matter, same DNA, same memories, 'its' a carbon copy, if it keeps Bruce from crashing out, 'it' can stay" Stephanie says

A "mission gone wrong", that's all it was, reports of people going missing after entering a certain hotel

We investigated, Batman sent (Name) inside the hotel to see the area, but comms were cut the moment they entered

Tim tried to hack, but there was no gadget to hack, not one inside the Hotel, Damian got so fed up, he threw a grenade at a window, but the hotel didn't budge, (Name) still hasn't come out of the building

Then they saw it, through a window, hundreds maybe even thousands of people, in one hotel, some were wearing ball gowns from like the 1700's, some were in punk 80's style, some were dressed in ancient Greek clothing, like time was mixed in the hotel

The problem was workers, no one paid them any mind as they just stood at a rooftop from a building near the hotel

Tim went to the entrance and was greeted by workers "Sir! Would you like to come in? We have a spa, a bar, a golf course, a race track, a pool, a climbing area, an arcade-" the worker continued to ramble

"Hello sir, would you like to try some of our lotus candies? They're complementary" another one smiled

It was creepy.

He immediately went back to report "It's like they want people to go inside, and none of the evidence shows that everyone who went missing was forcefully shoved in the hotel, they went in willingly, I think it's best to not enter, there's this weird vibe to it, like the hotel itself is the problem"

The silence was deafening, and Batman whispered "So you're telling me I sent my kid to a trap?"

They tried everything, they went back almost everyday, bombing the hotel, shooting it, the hotel would remain pristine, the only way was to enter

And it was after two years that passed that (Name) walked out of the hotel, they were out of their bat costume, instead they were in some clothes you'd wear to go gambling

Their minds were fuzzy at first, it didn't matter to Bruce, all he saw was his kid that he sent to hell and god knows what happened in that hotel

'it' would try to make inside jokes that (Name) made during missions

Batsibs were all happy when Bruce laid 'it' off from the vigilante job

Cassandra couldn't bring herself to talk to (Name), avoiding 'it' by closing her eyes

(Name) didn't act differently, no signs of trauma, in fact they testified the hotel was awesome, (Name) claimed that the hotel was so breathtaking they forgot about the mission, but it was fine, (Name) claimed they were only gone for 20 minutes

This was not (Name), no way...

______________________________

Present

"We know how to heal Thalia's tree! We know the place to go and everything!" Percy announced at the dinner table

Everyone murmured and Percy continued "Me and a select group of friends will go on a quest"

Tantalus roared "I didn't approve of this! I'd rather you all die in this wretched camp than- I mean..." He stopped yelling

But now the campers were yelling as well

"You already went on a quest, give others a chance!"

"You just want all the glory again!"

"Greedy Poseidon child"

With the new uproar Tantalus smirked "Well... The quest shall be approved, if! I choose who's going, and I choose you! Clarisse Daughter of Ares! You may choose two selective friends to go with you"

"But I was the one who-" Percy tried to reason

Tantalus glared "Do you all know a story? Where stupid children, anger the Great and smart and beloved me? Do you know what happened to that kid? You want it to happen to you?"

With that Percy shut up

I leaned in and whispered to Annabeth, Percy and Tyson, "So we are still going right?"

"Oh definitely" Percy said

______________________________

Okayss man there's this hurricane in our city and it hit yesterday, while I was outside, literally got the storm warning at school, so school was dismissed early but it was too late, it was flooded, then we had to parkour on some of the cars (not a joke, the car owners were like so understanding and let a bunch of students step on their hoods so we can pass) to get to higher ground

It was fun ngl

@delias-stuff @sadslasher13 @ellaprime7 @wpdarlingpan @mountvesuvu @chinxinsomnia @nathaly36 @vanessa-boo @bat1212 @ceramic-raven @sweetconnoisseurgardener @dhanyasri @bella-wolf100 @shortnsweetsposts @roseapov @d3sperate-enuf @d3kstar

#warmyanderepjoxdc #percy jackson #dc universe #percy jackon and the olympians #dcu #percy pjo #yandere #yandere platonic #yandere batfam

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scentedpeachlandcreator · 1 year ago

Text

Random things to manifest:

ੈ✩‧₊˚A fancy car.

ੈ✩‧₊˚To become a billionaire or a millionaire.

ੈ✩‧₊˚A tiny fairy.(success story here and here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚A flying magical pet or plushie that helps you and grants your wishes.

ੈ✩‧₊˚A magical wand.

ੈ✩‧₊˚A Magic door that exists inside your closet.

ੈ✩‧₊˚A hidden garden just for yourself.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Superpowers.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Able to shapeshift.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Just snapping your finger once and you tap into the void state instantly.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having a photographic memory.

ੈ✩‧₊˚A billion dollar mansion/penthouse. (Success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Owning a Land.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having a (hot😏)Bodyguard.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Princess treatment.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Ideal boyfriend (down to smallest details, they could even be your fictional character).

ੈ✩‧₊˚Winning a lottery.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Always receiving expensive gifts.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Desired phones (iPhones or even Samsung).

ੈ✩‧₊˚Supernatural Friends.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Your desired Friend group.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Desired best Friend. (Success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚How people view you (high self-concept).

ੈ✩‧₊˚Desired career.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Being a famous youtuber.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Meeting with your favorite celebrities.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Owning a big company.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Being a nepobaby.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having the ability to appear things from thin air.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Being popular in school.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Being the most beautiful girl in the entire universe.

ੈ✩‧₊˚modeling.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having A marks in every subject no matter what without studying.(success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Revising your past grades to perfection.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Revising your whole life.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having pretty privilege.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Getting food for free.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Manifesting fictional characters to reality.( A success story about it here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Desired scenarios to happen (even the most unrealistic one).

ੈ✩‧₊˚Dating your crush (they Can be your celebrity crush). (Success story here and here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Ability to fly.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Turning into mythical creatures.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Expensive apartment.(success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Desired pet (cats or dogs).

ੈ✩‧₊˚Getting accepted into a desired college.(success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Desired face and body.

ੈ✩‧₊˚You Can change the eye color of your eyes at will.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Your house get all cleaned with just a Snap of a finger.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Turning into a vampire or mermaid.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Can read Minds.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Telekinesis power. (Success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Superhuman intelligence.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Living in a castle.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having maids.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Revising your whole family.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Ranking first place in your school or college.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having fans.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having rich parents.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Get popular on tik tok.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Being the trend.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Revising embarrassing events.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Getting asked out by hot and loyal guys.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Living the Wattpad life.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Being skilled in something (art,sports,..ect).

ੈ✩‧₊˚Less period pain.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Able to shift instantly on commands.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having your Desired wardrobe.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Skilled in playing games at first try.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Your desired setup.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Getting money out of nowhere. (Success story here)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Lucky girl syndrome.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Scripting your own story.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Your Pinterest board becomes true.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Manifest your desired app.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Making classes get canceled.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Making exams get canceled.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Manifesting Xbox or PlayStation 5.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Ability to Time Travel.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Travel to your desired country.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Move out to your desired country or place.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Having a Magic tattoo that have powers (inspired by the k-drama “my demon”).

ੈ✩‧₊˚being a math genius.

#loa tumblr #law of assumption #things to manifest #how to manifest #fun things to manifest #loa

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victormalonso · 7 months ago

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memories from the magic garden | víctor m. alonso

#photographers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #víctor m. alonso #vimalsu999 #isla negra #memories from the magic garden

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bunnwich · 5 months ago

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My Yuusona🐇

Enter Yuuta Midori:

Between looking out for their adoptive youger siblings and wrangling Grim "the Great" this busy prefect can often be found doing odd jobs around the campus for extra money. From tending to the botanical gardens or assisting Sam at the Mystery Shack. With a stubbornness to survive as a magicless person in a magical world, rugged but charming Yuu is always there to help their friends in need or tend to their wounds.

Trivia:

- Yuuta resides in the Ramshackle alongside Yume Ume, (@comingyourlugubriousness) and Yuuhi, who they have dubbed their younger brothers. While not actually related, the 3 bonded after being brought to this strange new world with no memories. - Yuuta is genderfluid and goes by they/them, he/him and she/her. However, sometimes (like Epel) they become self-conscious of their "softer" features and prefer to present more masc at the beginning of the year. - To their dismay, after Riddle's Overblot Yuuta discovered that they have empathic powers forcing them to feel the emotions of others around them. This effect grows as they become closer to the person. Sometimes touch triggers the ability to see others' memories. The only people who currently know of this power are their Ramshackle roommates and Leona Kingscholar, (who they accidentally confessed this to.) - After the events of Chapter 2 Yuuta was given a set of magical cards by Sam that can perform small, elemental attacks in battle. These cards are imbued with special energy and also function as Yuuta's Tarot deck. - After discovering they have a talent for brews and tarot reading, often Yuuta offers small charges for these services to their fellow classmates. They offer potions that help with confidence, studying, and even love confessions. - Due to a gas leak at the Ramshackle after the events of Chapter 4 Yuuta was sorted into the Savanaclaw dorm temporarily. During their stay, they managed to grow their first aid skills as well as earn the respect of the Savanaclaw Dorm and even its leader. (More in Part 2!) -

Part 1/2

#THIS HAS BEEN A LONG TIME COMING. FINALLY IT'S HERE WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #twst #twst yuu #twst sona #twisted wonderland #twst art #twst fanart #yuuta midori #disney twst #twst oc #twst yuusona #twisted wonderland oc #twst wonderland #yuusona #twst profile #bunnwich art🐇

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sleepyorchidmonster · 5 months ago

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Okay, but what if, after graduation, all the students band together and create a gigantic contract that states that, after their deaths, their respective UMs are to be given to Malleus, so he'll never be alone?

The contract's paper received protection from Vil's Fairest One of All, so it's basically indestructible (it can only be broken after Malleus himself dies).

Future Malleus tries to use everyone's magic at least once per day.

It's a Deal, Off With Your Head, Bind the Heart and Split Card are very useful for his daily activities as a ruler, he uses Oasis Maker to water his garden and help in times of drought, I See You is mostly used to keep prized possessions in check and Sleep Kiss has saved plenty of people.

The more destructive abilities like King's Roar are mostly used in times of peril (or when he wants to be petty and dramatic), and the same goes for Bet the Limit. Shock the Heart, Laugh With Me and Snake Whisper are very useful for intel gathering or pranks.

He uses Unleash the Beast whenever he visits a colder climate or just wants to change forms without turning into a dragon (he becomes a black wolf with green eyes, very fluffy). Doodle Suit is often used to make food taste terrible (he misses Lillia, even his atrocious cooking), while Fairest One of All protects all gargoyles frim erosion.

Far Cry Cradle is used to reminisce fond memories, and he likes to use Meet Me in a Dream to visit Ortho, who is still alive. He LOVES dashing around with Living Bolt.

He can't exactly use Gate to The Underworld, since it's hereditary and troublesome, so Idia gave him an indestructible tablet with a custom gargoyle game and a "Idia Mode" (the tablet makes annoying remarks, like "GG Folks" or "This RNG really is awful").

BONUS:

Malleus: As your King, I hereby declare that the Senate is to be immediately disbanded.

Senate: WHAT

Idia Tablet: LMAO. Sucks to suck!

#twst #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #jamil viper #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #ortho shroud #silver vanrouge #lillia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #malleus still keeps in touch with most of their families #he's the crazy uncle who comes by every once in a while and gifts them books about gargoyles and other rare gems #he also personally oversaw a project to help ruggie's neighborhood (it worked wonders)#and deal with the indentured servitude of the vipers #he and ortho have an ongoing battle over who is the best uncle #so many of the student's descendants became interested in architecture because of this dragon (he always gives a book about gargoyles too)

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bratzkoo · 3 months ago

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yours, always and forever | jeonghan

Author: bratzkoo | beta read by: @spnyin Pairing: perfumer! jeonghan x estrange wife! reader Genre: fluff, angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 5.9k Warnings/note: went on a shopping trip with my mom and i cried when i smelled rose kabuki by dior. Happy National Boyfriend's Day to our boyfriend, Jeonghan.

summary: Perfumer Yoon Jeonghan took the Perfume industry by storm with his intriguing perfume names that seems to be inspired by one specific person which makes the industry question, who is he even naming his creations after? Only Y/N, Jeonghan’s estrange wife knows the answer.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The soft glow of the setting sun painted the New York skyline in hues of gold and pink, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern interior of the penthouse apartment where Yoon Jeonghan stood, gazing out at the city he'd conquered. In his hand, a delicate crystal glass held a swirl of amber liquid, its aroma mingling with the lingering scents that always clung to him—a symphony of olfactory notes that had become his signature.

Jeonghan took a sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat. His eyes, dark and intense, reflected the city lights beginning to twinkle in the twilight. At thirty-two, he was at the pinnacle of his career, a prodigy in the world of perfumery, and the toast of the fashion and beauty industries. For the third year in a row, the title of Perfumer of the Year sat comfortably on his shoulders, a crown he wore with a mixture of pride and nonchalance that only added to his allure.

The gentle ping of his phone drew his attention away from the view. Another congratulatory message, no doubt. They had been pouring in all day, ever since the announcement of his latest triumph. Jeonghan ignored it, choosing instead to walk over to his workspace—a sprawling, custom-designed lab that took up nearly half of his living area.

Here, amidst the orderly chaos of beakers, pipettes, and countless vials of essences and extracts, was where the magic happened. This was where he crafted the scents that had taken the world by storm, perfumes that didn't just smell divine but told stories, evoked memories, and stirred emotions in ways that left critics and consumers alike in awe.

Jeonghan's fingers trailed over the labels of his latest collection, a small smile playing on his lips as he read each name aloud:

"You, in the Garden."

"You, in Greece."

"You, in the Club Holding Your Favorite Drink."

"You, in New York."

Each name was a whisper of the past, a fragment of a story that the public could only guess at. And guess they did. Entire forums were dedicated to deciphering the meaning behind Jeonghan's enigmatic perfume names. Who was this mysterious 'you'? A lover? A muse? A figment of the perfumer's vivid imagination?

Speculation ran rampant. Some theorized it was a marketing ploy, a clever way to personalize each scent for the wearer. Others believed Jeonghan was leaving breadcrumbs, telling his own story through these olfactory chapters. The more romantic souls insisted it was an ode to a lost love, each perfume a memory crystallized in scent.

If only they knew.

Jeonghan's smile faded as he picked up the bottle of "You, in New York." The weight of it in his hand felt heavier than it should, laden with memories he both cherished and tried to forget. He uncapped it, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Notes of crisp apple and bergamot gave way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by a base of sandalwood and vanilla. But beneath these carefully orchestrated notes lay something else, something only he could detect—the ghost of her perfume, the one she wore on that last night.

Across the city, in a modest but charming brownstone in Brooklyn, Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by discarded wrapping paper and birthday cards. The celebration had been small but joyful, a gathering of the close friends who had become her support system over the past few years. As the night wound down and the last guest departed, she found herself alone with her thoughts and the pile of gifts yet to be properly examined.

One box in particular caught her eye. It was elegant, wrapped in matte black paper with a single silver ribbon. There was no card, no indication of who it was from. Curiosity piqued, Y/N carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the paper.

Her breath caught in her throat as she revealed the contents. Nestled in a bed of black satin was a bottle she recognized all too well, even though she had never held it before. The clean lines of the glass, the minimalist label with its distinctive handwritten font—it was unmistakably one of Jeonghan's creations.

With trembling hands, Y/N lifted the bottle. "You, in New York," she read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. A humorless laugh escaped her lips. How fitting, how cruelly ironic that of all his perfumes, this would be the one to find its way to her.

New York. The city where dreams came true and hearts were broken. The city where, five years ago, she had celebrated her last birthday with Jeonghan. It had been magical—a surprise weekend getaway, a whirlwind of Broadway shows, candlelit dinners, and long walks through Central Park. It was the last time she remembered feeling truly, incandescently happy.

It was also the weekend that marked the beginning of the end.

Y/N uncapped the bottle, hesitating for just a moment before bringing it to her nose. The scent hit her like a wave, transporting her instantly back to that weekend. She could almost feel the crisp autumn air on her skin, hear the bustling streets, see Jeonghan's smile as he pulled her close on top of the Empire State Building.

Unbidden, tears began to fall, leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. Five years. Five years since she had spoken to him, seen him, been in the same room as him. And yet, with one carefully crafted scent, he could still reach across that divide and touch her very soul.

They weren't divorced—the paperwork sat untouched in a drawer in her study, a task neither of them seemed able to bring themselves to complete. But they might as well have been strangers for all the communication that passed between them. Estranged was the word the media used when they bothered to mention her at all. Jeonghan's mysterious wife, who had disappeared from the public eye as swiftly and suddenly as Jeonghan had risen to fame.

Y/N set the bottle on her nightstand, unable to put it away but unwilling to hold it any longer. She reached for her phone, scrolling through the countless birthday messages until she found the one she was looking for. It was from her best friend, Mina:

"Hey birthday girl! Hope you loved all your gifts. That last one... the perfume. I hope it wasn't too much. When I saw it, I just thought... well, maybe it was time. You can't run from the past forever, Y/N. Call me if you need to talk. Love you!"

So it had been Mina. Y/N wasn't sure whether to thank her friend or curse her for this unexpected trip down memory lane. She fell back onto her pillows, staring at the ceiling as her mind raced.

Did Jeonghan know his perfume had found its way to her? Did he still think of her when he created these scents? Was she the 'you' in every bottle, or had someone else taken her place in his heart and his art?

Questions she had buried for years bubbled to the surface, demanding attention. Y/N closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and provide a temporary escape. But the scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a persistent reminder of all that had been and all that was lost.

Meanwhile, in his penthouse, Jeonghan had moved from his lab to his home office. The wall opposite his desk was covered in framed magazine covers and articles, a testament to his meteoric rise in the industry. His eyes, however, were fixed on a single frame tucked away in the corner of his desk. It was turned face down, but he knew every detail of the photograph it held—him and Y/N, laughing and in love, on their wedding day.

He reached for it, hesitating for a moment before picking it up and turning it over. They looked so young, so full of hope and dreams. Jeonghan traced the outline of Y/N's face with his finger, wondering not for the first time where she was, what she was doing, if she ever thought of him.

A notification on his computer screen drew his attention. It was an email from his publicist, marked urgent:

"Jeonghan,

The press is buzzing about your win and the launch of 'You, in New York.' Vogue wants an exclusive interview, and they're particularly interested in the inspiration behind your perfume names. I've held them off so far, but we need to give them something. The mysterious artist angle only works for so long.

Also, there's been some renewed interest in your personal life. A few gossip blogs have dug up old photos of you and Y/N. Nothing scandalous, but we should be prepared for questions.

Let me know how you want to handle this.

- Somin"

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, a frown creasing his brow. He had known this day would come eventually. The perfume industry thrived on stories, on the personalities behind the scents. He had managed to maintain an air of mystery for years, letting his creations speak for themselves. But now, with his continued success and the increasingly personal nature of his perfume names, the world wanted more.

How could he possibly explain the truth? That each perfume was a love letter, a memory, a piece of his heart poured into a bottle? That 'You, in the Garden' was born from lazy Sunday mornings spent in their tiny apartment's rooftop garden, Y/N's laughter mingling with the scent of herbs and flowers? That 'You, in Greece' captured the essence of their honeymoon, sun-kissed skin and salty air and the intoxicating feeling of being young and in love?

And 'You, in New York'... Jeonghan's gaze drifted back to the photograph. Their last happy moment, preserved in glass and scent. He had poured every ounce of his skill into that perfume, trying to capture not just the smells of the city, but the feeling of that weekend—the joy, the love, and the bittersweet edge of what was to come.

He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over Y/N's contact. He hadn't deleted it, couldn't bring himself to erase that last tangible connection. But he hadn't used it either, not in five long years. What would he even say?

"I'm sorry"?

"I miss you"?

"Every scent I create is a desperate attempt to hold onto the memory of us"?

Jeonghan set the phone down, leaving the call unmade. Instead, he turned back to his computer and began to type a response to his publicist:

"Somin,

Set up the Vogue interview. I'll give them the story they want.

As for my personal life, it remains personal. No comments on old photos or relationships.

- Jeonghan"

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. It was time to give the public a peek behind the curtain, to feed the curiosity that had been building for years. He would craft a story, something romantic and mysterious enough to satisfy the masses without revealing the raw, painful truth.

After all, isn't that what he did best? Create beautiful illusions, capture feelings in a bottle, tell stories through scent? This would just be another performance, another carefully constructed facade.

But as Jeonghan stood to pour himself another drink, his eyes fell once more on the photograph of him and Y/N. For a moment, the mask slipped, and a look of profound sadness crossed his face. All the success, all the accolades, all the adoration from fans around the world—none of it filled the Y/N-shaped hole in his heart.

In the quiet of his luxurious apartment, surrounded by the fruits of his success, Yoon Jeonghan—three-time Perfumer of the Year, creator of the most sought-after fragrances in the world—had never felt more alone.

As the night deepened, two souls on opposite sides of the city lay awake, each haunted by memories and might-have-beens. The scent of "You, in New York" lingered in the air, a fragrant bridge across the chasm that separated them. Neither knew that this birthday, this perfume, this moment of remembrance, was about to set in motion a chain of events that would force them to confront their past and decide their future.

The sleek, modernist interior of Vogue's New York office buzzed with nervous energy as staff scurried about, making last-minute preparations. Today was no ordinary day—they were about to interview Yoon Jeonghan, the enigmatic perfumer who had captivated the fashion world with his mysterious creations.

Jeonghan sat in the makeup chair, his eyes closed as the artist applied a light touch of powder to his already flawless skin. He exuded an aura of calm, but beneath the surface, his mind raced. This interview was a calculated risk, a chance to satisfy the public's curiosity while maintaining the mystique that had become his trademark.

"Mr. Yoon, we're ready for you," a young assistant called, clipboard clutched to her chest.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, meeting his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his tie—a deep, midnight blue that brought out the intensity of his gaze—and stood. With a deep breath, he stepped into the lion's den.

The interviewer, a sharp-eyed woman named Clara, greeted him with a professional smile. "Mr. Yoon, thank you for joining us. Shall we begin?"

As the cameras rolled, Clara launched into her questions, starting with the safe and expected before gradually probing deeper.

"Your latest fragrance, 'You, in New York,' has taken the world by storm," Clara said, leaning forward slightly. "Can you tell us about the inspiration behind it?"

Jeonghan's lips curved into a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "New York is a city of dreams and memories," he began, his voice smooth and measured. "I wanted to capture the essence of a perfect moment in time—the crisp air of a fall evening, the excitement of possibility, the bittersweet beauty of a fleeting experience."

"And the 'you' in the title?" Clara pressed. "Your fragrances all seem to be addressing someone specific. Is there a story there?"

For a fraction of a second, Jeonghan's composure slipped. A flicker of something—pain? longing?—crossed his face before the mask slid back into place. "The 'you' is everyone and no one," he said carefully. "It's the wearer of the perfume, the object of desire, the memory of a love lost or yet to be found. I believe that the most personal stories are often the most universal."

As the interview continued, Jeonghan wove a tale of inspiration drawn from travels, fleeting encounters, and imagined romances. It was a beautiful story, crafted as carefully as his perfumes. But those who knew him best might have noticed the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers occasionally twitched as if reaching for something—or someone—just out of grasp.

---

The publication of the Vogue interview sent shockwaves through the fashion and beauty world. Social media exploded with theories and interpretations of Jeonghan's words. Fan forums dissected every sentence, looking for hidden meanings and clues about the mysterious muse behind his creations.

@ScentObsessed tweeted: "OMG, did you catch how his voice changed when talking about 'You, in New York'? There's definitely a real story there! #YoonJeonghan #PerfumeMystery"

A popular beauty vlogger released a 20-minute video analyzing Jeonghan's body language during the interview, claiming to have spotted at least five instances where he seemed to be holding back tears.

Even serious fashion critics couldn't resist speculating. A piece in WWD posed the question: "Is Yoon Jeonghan's entire oeuvre an olfactory autobiography? The clues hidden in his fragrances."

---

Across the city, Y/N sat at her kitchen table, a cup of coffee growing cold beside her as she stared at her laptop screen. The Vogue article was open, Jeonghan's face looking back at her from a series of artfully shot photographs.

She had promised herself she wouldn't read it. Had sworn she was past all this, that she had moved on. But curiosity—and perhaps something deeper, something she wasn't ready to name—had gotten the better of her.

Now, as she read his carefully crafted words, Y/N felt a complex mix of emotions churning inside her. Anger at the half-truths, sadness at the memories his words evoked, and a traitorous flutter of her heart at the moments where she could see through his facade to the man she once knew so well.

A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. Y/N closed the laptop quickly, as if hiding evidence of a crime, before going to answer.

"Ms. Y/N?" A woman with a press badge stood in the hallway, notepad in hand. "I'm Mia from Style Weekly. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about Yoon Jeonghan's latest interview."

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," she said, moving to close the door.

The reporter's foot blocked the doorway. "Please, just a moment. Your connection to Mr. Yoon is a matter of public record. Surely you must have some insight into the inspirations behind his work?"

"No comment," Y/N managed, her voice strangled. She pushed the door closed with more force, hearing the reporter's muffled protests from the other side.

Leaning against the door, Y/N slid to the floor, her heart pounding. It was happening again. The life she had carefully rebuilt, separate from Jeonghan and his world of glitz and glamour, was threatening to crumble around her.

---

In his penthouse, Jeonghan paced back and forth, phone pressed to his ear. "Somin, I thought we agreed to keep my personal life out of this," he said, frustration evident in his voice.

His publicist's calm tones came through the speaker. "Jeonghan, we did our best, but you have to understand. The public is hungry for this. Your story, the mystery—it's what sells. The interview was a huge success."

"At what cost?" Jeonghan muttered, more to himself than to Somin.

After ending the call, he walked to his workspace, surrounded by the tools of his trade. His fingers trailed over the bottles of his creations, lingering on "You, in New York."

For a moment, he allowed himself to remember—truly remember, not the sanitized version he had presented to the world. He saw Y/N's smile as they watched the sunset from the Top of the Rock, felt the warmth of her hand in his as they strolled through Central Park.

Almost without conscious thought, his hand reached for his phone. Y/N's contact information stared back at him, unchanged after all these years. His thumb hovered over the call button.

A war raged inside him. The desire to hear her voice, to explain, to apologize, warred with the fear of rejection, of reopening old wounds.

In the end, he set the phone down, the call unmade. But the desire, the need, lingered.

---

"Y/N, have you seen this?" Mina's voice came through the phone, excitement evident. "Jeonghan's Vogue interview. Girl, he's talking about you."

Y/N sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Mina, please. You know I don't want to hear about—"

"No, listen," Mina interrupted. "He talks about a moment in New York, watching the sunset from a rooftop garden. That was you two, wasn't it? On your last birthday together?"

Y/N's breath caught. She remembered that evening with painful clarity—the golden light, the gentle breeze, the feeling that everything was perfect. It was mere days before it all fell apart.

"It doesn't matter," Y/N said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Honey," Mina said gently, "I think it does. He's been telling your story all along, in every bottle. Maybe... maybe it's time to tell yours."

After hanging up, Y/N found herself once again staring at the bottle of "You, in New York." She uncapped it, letting the scent envelop her. In that moment, she allowed herself to truly feel everything she had been suppressing for years.

The realization hit her like a wave: Jeonghan hadn't forgotten. Every perfume, every story, was a message in a bottle, cast out into the world in hopes that someday, somehow, it would reach her.

---

The charity gala was in full swing, the cream of New York society mingling amidst the glittering decor of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Jeonghan moved through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, the perfect image of the successful artist.

He was in the middle of a conversation with a fashion designer when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with an old friend—one he shared with Y/N.

"Jeonghan," the friend said, a strange mix of emotions playing across their face. "It's been too long."

As they talked, catching up on the years that had passed, Jeonghan found himself hungry for any scrap of information about Y/N. He tried to be subtle, but his old friend saw right through him.

"She's doing well, Jeonghan," they said softly. "She's strong. But... I think she misses you too."

The words hit Jeonghan like a physical blow. He excused himself, making his way to a quiet corner of the museum. His carefully constructed world felt like it was shifting beneath his feet.

Across the city, Y/N was experiencing a similar upheaval. A mutual friend had let slip that Jeonghan had asked about her, that he still kept a photo of them on his desk.

As the night wore on, both Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves standing at a crossroads. The walls they had built, the distance they had maintained, suddenly seemed more like obstacles than protection.

Unbeknownst to each other, they both reached for their phones at nearly the same moment. Fingers hovering over screens, hearts pounding, they stood on the precipice of a decision that could change everything.

In the air, the faint scent of "You, in New York" lingered, a reminder of what was lost and what, perhaps, could still be found.

The stage was set. The next move was theirs.

The Autumn chill nipped at Y/N's skin as she stood outside the small café, her hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. Her eyes darted nervously up and down the street, searching for a familiar face she hadn't seen in years. Her heart raced, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through her veins.

She almost jumped when her phone buzzed. A text from Jeonghan: "I'm here."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she spotted him rounding the corner. Jeonghan looked much the same as she remembered, yet somehow different. His hair was styled differently, and he carried himself with a weariness that hadn't been there before. But his eyes—those eyes that had once looked at her with such love—were as intense as ever.

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the busy New York street faded away. It was just the two of them, standing on opposite sides of a chasm five years in the making.

Jeonghan reached her first, stopping a few feet away. "Y/N," he said, his voice a mix of relief and uncertainty.

"Jeonghan," she replied, surprised at how steady her own voice sounded.

An awkward silence fell between them, years of unspoken words and suppressed emotions creating an almost tangible barrier.

"Should we..." Jeonghan gestured towards the café, and Y/N nodded, grateful for the suggestion.

Inside, they found a quiet corner booth. The warm, coffee-scented air was a stark contrast to the tension between them. They ordered—an Americano for him, a latte for her, just like old times—and then faced each other across the small table.

"You look well," Jeonghan said, his fingers fidgeting with a sugar packet.

Y/N managed a small smile. "So do you. I... I've seen your interviews. Congratulations on all your success."

Jeonghan's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "Thank you. I hear you're doing well too. Teaching, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, literature at NYU. It's... it's good."

Another silence fell, heavier this time. Y/N took a sip of her latte, using the moment to gather her thoughts.

"Why did you want to meet, Jeonghan?" she finally asked, setting her cup down perhaps a bit too forcefully.

Jeonghan looked up, meeting her gaze directly for the first time since they sat down. "I... I missed you, Y/N. Every day for five years, I've missed you."

The raw honesty in his voice caught Y/N off guard. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and blinked them back furiously.

"You missed me?" she repeated, a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone. "You're the one who left, Jeonghan. You chose your career over us."

Jeonghan flinched as if he'd been slapped. "I know," he said softly. "And I've regretted it every day since."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, familiar bottle. Y/N's breath hitched as she recognized it—"You, in New York."

"Every scent, every name," Jeonghan continued, his voice thick with emotion, "they were all for you. About you. My way of holding onto what we had, what I threw away."

Y/N stared at the bottle, memories flooding back. The laughter, the love, the pain—it all came rushing back in a dizzying whirl.

"I thought I was protecting you," Jeonghan said. "The pressure, the spotlight—it was destroying us. I thought... I thought if I let you go, you could have a normal life. Be happy."

"That wasn't your choice to make," Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You should have talked to me. We could have figured it out together."

Jeonghan nodded, running a hand through his hair in a gesture so familiar it made Y/N's heart ache. "I know that now. God, Y/N, I know. I was young and stupid and scared. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just a coward."

Y/N felt the walls she'd built around her heart begin to crumble. She reached out, almost unconsciously, and took the perfume bottle from Jeonghan's hand. As she did, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"I tried to hate you," Y/N admitted, her thumb tracing the label of the bottle. "I tried so hard to forget, to move on. But then I'd catch a whiff of one of your perfumes, or see your face on a magazine cover, and it all came flooding back."

Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes pleading. "I know I have no right to ask this, but... is there any chance? For us? I'm not the same man I was five years ago. I've learned, I've grown. And I know now that nothing—no amount of success or fame—means anything without you."

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling tears slip down her cheeks. When she opened them again, she saw that Jeonghan's eyes were also wet.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "You hurt me, Jeonghan. Deeply. That's not something that can be fixed with a conversation and some pretty words."

Jeonghan nodded, his face falling. But before he could speak, Y/N continued.

"But... I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you too. That I didn't still love you, despite everything."

Hope bloomed in Jeonghan's eyes. "So... what does that mean?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "It means... it means maybe we can try. Slowly. No grand gestures, no rushing back into things. We need to relearn each other, rebuild trust. Can you do that?"

Jeonghan reached across the table, gently taking Y/N's hand in his. The familiar warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

"Y/N, I would wait a lifetime if that's what it took. We'll go as slow as you need. I just... I just want a chance to make things right."

For the first time since they sat down, Y/N felt a genuine smile tugging at her lips. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's try."

The gentle spring breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms through Central Park, where Jeonghan and Y/N walked hand in hand, their steps slow and purposeful. Two years had passed since that fateful night when they both reached for their phones, finally bridging the gap that had separated them for so long.

"I still can't believe we're here," Y/N said, squeezing Jeonghan's hand. "Sometimes I think I'll wake up and find it was all a dream."

Jeonghan brought her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "If it's a dream, then I never want to wake up," he replied, his eyes shining with emotion.

They found a quiet bench overlooking the lake, the same spot where they had sat years ago, planning their future together. Now, older and wiser, they sat again, the weight of their shared history and renewed love settling comfortably between them.

"The launch is tomorrow," Jeonghan said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Are you ready?"

Y/N took a deep breath, nodding. "As ready as I'll ever be. It's still surreal, you know? Being back in this world, but on my own terms this time."

The past two years had been a whirlwind of rediscovery and healing. After their reconnection, Jeonghan and Y/N had taken things slowly, rebuilding trust and relearning each other. Y/N had been adamant about maintaining her independence, refusing to be swallowed up by Jeonghan's world as she had been before.

To everyone's surprise—including her own—Y/N had discovered a talent for perfumery. What had started as curious questions about Jeonghan's process had evolved into a genuine passion. Under his guidance, she had begun to create her own scents, her natural intuition complementing Jeonghan's technical expertise.

And now, tomorrow, they would launch their first collaborative perfume.

"I have something for you," Jeonghan said, reaching into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small, elegant bottle, its contents shimmering in the afternoon sun.

Y/N gasped, recognizing the prototype they had been working on. "Is this...?"

Jeonghan nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "The final version. I wanted you to be the first to see it—to smell it."

With trembling hands, Y/N took the bottle. The label read "Essence of Us" in Jeonghan's distinctive handwriting. Below it, in smaller letters: "By Jeonghan & Y/N."

She uncapped the bottle, bringing it to her nose. The scent enveloped her immediately—bright citrus notes of bergamot and lemon, giving way to a heart of rose and jasmine, grounded by warm sandalwood and a hint of vanilla. But there was something more, something uniquely them—a note that spoke of long nights of conversation, of laughter shared over coffee, of gentle kisses and whispered promises.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "It's perfect," she whispered.

Jeonghan wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "It's us," he said simply. "All of us. The good, the bad, the journey we've taken."

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Jeonghan and Y/N sat in comfortable silence, the scent of their creation lingering in the air around them.

The launch event for "Essence of Us" was the talk of the fashion world. Held in the same New York hotel where Jeonghan and Y/N had celebrated her last birthday before their separation, it was a poignant reminder of how far they had come.

Cameras flashed as Jeonghan and Y/N stepped onto the red carpet, a united front. Y/N, dressed in a flowing gown that shimmered like liquid silver, looked every inch the confident co-creator, a far cry from the woman who had once hidden in Jeonghan's shadow.

Inside, the room was transformed into a sensory wonderland. Different stations represented the various notes of the perfume, allowing guests to experience each element individually before sampling the final product.

As the crowd mingled and the excitement built, Jeonghan clinked a glass, calling for attention. The room fell silent, all eyes turning to the stage where he and Y/N stood.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Jeonghan began, his voice carrying easily through the room. "This launch is special for many reasons, but none more so than the fact that it represents not just a new scent, but a new chapter."

He turned to Y/N, love evident in his gaze. "For years, my perfumes told the story of what I had lost. They were messages in bottles, cast out into the world in the hope that someday, they might find their way back to the one who inspired them."

Y/N stepped forward, taking Jeonghan's hand. "And I heard those messages," she continued, her voice strong and clear. "Even when I tried not to listen, even when I thought that chapter of my life was closed forever. They called to me, reminding me of a love that never truly faded."

Together, they unveiled the perfume—an elegant bottle that seemed to capture the light, refracting it into a thousand tiny rainbows.

"'Essence of Us' is more than just a perfume," Jeonghan said. "It's a testament to the power of love, of forgiveness, of second chances. It's the scent of two people who lost their way, only to find that all paths led back to each other."

Y/N nodded, adding, "It's also a new beginning. A declaration that our story isn't just about the past, but about the future we choose to create together."

As the crowd applauded and the first samples of "Essence of Us" were distributed, Jeonghan and Y/N shared a private smile. They had poured their hearts into this creation, distilling years of love, loss, and rediscovery into a single, perfect scent.

Months later, as "Essence of Us" continued to top bestseller lists and garner critical acclaim, Jeonghan and Y/N found themselves back in their favorite spot in Central Park. The trees were ablaze with autumn colors, a crisp breeze carrying the promise of winter.

"I've been thinking," Jeonghan said, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. "About the future. About us."

Y/N looked at him curiously. "Oh? And what have you been thinking?"

Jeonghan took a deep breath, reaching into his pocket. "I've been thinking that maybe it's time for a new scent. Something... permanent."

He pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a stunning ring. The design was unique—a delicate gold band that twisted into the shape of an infinity symbol, set with tiny diamonds that caught the light like drops of perfume.

"Y/N," Jeonghan said, his voice thick with emotion, "will you marry me? Again? For real this time, for always?"

Tears sprang to Y/N's eyes as she nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. As Jeonghan slipped the ring onto her finger, she finally found her voice. "Yes," she whispered. "Forever and always."

They sealed the promise with a kiss, the scent of "Essence of Us" mingling with the crisp autumn air. As they broke apart, both laughing and crying, Jeonghan's eyes lit up with that familiar spark of inspiration.

"I think I know what our next perfume will be called," he said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh? Do tell."

Jeonghan pulled her close, whispering in her ear: "You, Forever and Always."

And as they walked hand in hand through the park, already discussing notes and accords for their new creation, both Jeonghan and Y/N knew that this—their love, their passion, their shared creativity—was the most intoxicating scent of all.

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