#this poem can be used against me

[deadbutbetter]

kathy acker. translations from the diary of laure

[trickstersaint]

elegy in which you are the creator in the laboratory // october 29 2023

[pencap]

.

[bogkeep]

this may be something i might change my mind about later, but i don't actually Hate artificially generated aesthetic pictures that are like "fungus themed couch" "art noveau inspired camera" "stained glass bathtub" "gothic style platic chairs" or "really fancy sky" tbh. like i think there's lots of room for playing around with ideas and concepts using - applying some good faith here - public domain source photos or otherwise ethically/consensually acquired images. what DOES drive me up the wall is that every time i come across a set of pictures like that there's NO mention that it's artificially created. sometimes there's no source listed at all, which is really common for ~*Aesthetic Pictures*~ anyway. what's worse is when it's like, [Name Of Creator, Name of Collection, 2023] as if it's a legitimate art exhibit, with no mention of the program used to create the pics. that's actually pretty upsetting - the underhandedness of it all. ugh.

[leatherbookmark]

ootd features the words "black dress" in its lyrics and people are like oh! this is a reference to another group's song, "black dress"!

i'm unwell.

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

feeling extremely emo about the incredibly emo poetry I used to write.

[ihopeitgetsokaysoon]

Tornado

Can god really abandon you if he was never really real? I think they come in the form of other people breathing life into superstition an old passage will cross your mind a prayer you still know every word of when someone bitter throws god at your face a proof of his love and it rumbles in your mind it doesn't matter anyways you remind yourself as you keep walking as though her hatred could have been undone "god hates you! he hates you!" Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who…. what does it matter? you shake your head of the thought you don't need a god to be loved or unloved by for you must be against his rules, you must be a curse from Lucifer himself- neither of them are real, you remind yourself again and gain over and over god isn't real he never was for why would he do this to you? why would he give us cancer? why would he test our love our devotion? if I don't give god every ounce of my all to prove myself he would know if i don't give everyone my all all the time because i have it am I a bad friend? god was just an imaginary friend angels in the waitingroom an exciting ghost story to shake from excitement that we could see them people saw them god in the form of strangers looking out for you it wasn't god and it was just a stranger who wanted you to be alright is that so hard to believe anymore?

it makes me wonder how people see someone like me I'm gay, I cuss, I fuck, and i make bad decisions I dress in black and have long hair I tell everyone I meet I love my wife No one told me god hated me personally I just see it around for what is so wrong to love? the god i made didn't hate me it was just never there when I was scared I only hoped and prayed that i would be kept safe and to tell my dead relatives I loved them i thought they'd be sad if i didn't naming every one every night I was scared And no one was going to save me I could just scream for a god that will never hear me And yet people call him all mighty All powerful All knowing They go through misfortune after misfortune pain after pain death and hurt after death and hurt he is simply testing them it's all a part of his plan they think to themselves to keep it together They have that comfort I suppose I wish I still had it because it's like being wrapped in a blanket that's just a little too short or just not insulating you are alone and you are wrapped up you are safe for the moment but you don't feel safe and you just feel cold

[cloudybarnes]

Secret Admirer

Pairing: slytherin boys x reader

Summary: you never get mail in the morning, not until one day you receive a letter from an anonymous sender, a secret admirer. From that day forward, you’ve been getting letters, poems, and cute little notes each morning at breakfast. His words were sweet, and as you began to fall for them, your quest of figuring out who sent them only grew.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Masterlist

note: trying something new! basically I dont wanna spoil who her secret admirer is, so I’m gonna call it slytherin boys x reader hehe guess you’ll have to read til the end to see who sent her the letters ;)

✰  ✰  ✰

“Theodore Nott, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” You shouted. 

You reached across the table in the great hall where Theo sat directly in front of you. He had stolen all of the bacon off of your breakfast plate and refused to give it up. Mornings were always quite hectic at the slytherin table, but this was downright unacceptable.

“Nope,” he smirked as he popped a piece into his mouth, “they were all out when I went up for breakfast. This bacon is mine now, sweetheart.”

You huffed, and sat back down in your seat. “You’re ridiculous. If you weren’t so damn late all the time, maybe you would have had some bacon of your own.”

“Here (Y/N),” Enzo smiled from his seat right next to you. “You can have some of my bacon.” He picked the best looking pieces and put them on your plate. 

“Aw, Enzo!” You grinned as you picked a piece up and ate it happily. “This is why you're my best friend.”

“Hey!” Pansy shouted from the other side of you. “Thought I was your best friend.”

“You didn’t give up a piece of bacon for her,” Draco smirked, “you’ve been demoted.”

Mattheo gruffed. “Enzo, you’re kind of mean, you know that? (Y/N) complains she’s all out of bacon and you jump to give her a piece, but when I say I need someone to do my charms homework for me, you don’t even try to lift a finger.”

“Mattheo, how many times do I have to tell you,” Enzo said, “I’m never gonna do your homework. And it’s not fair to compare that to giving up a piece of bacon! I don't even like bacon all that much!”

“Dude!” Blaise gasped from next to Draco, “if you don’t like bacon you should have passed that down this way a long time ago.”

Pansy scoffed and shook her head. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Hey,” you whined as you ate another piece of bacon, “I’m the least idiot of the bunch, right Pans?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, (Y/N/N).”

You grinned, about to rebuttal when the morning owl dropped an envelope in front of you.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you picked it up. 

“Uh, I think it’s quite obviously a letter, (Y/N/N).” Mattheo said as he stuffed his mouth full of bacon. “And, to think, you were trying to say you’re the least idiot of us.” He laughed.

“Oi,” Theo knocked his shoulder against Mattheo’s. “Leave her be. I’ve never seen her get a letter before, I’m curious.”

Draco shifted slightly in his seat. “Who’s it from, (Y/N/N)?”

“Nevermind who it’s from,” Blaise chuckled, “I wanna know what it says.”

“Why would you wanna know what it says and not know who it’s from?” Enzo asked, “That's like half the fun.”

You shrugged as you tore open the envelope. Opening the folds of the letter, your cheeks started to warm as you read what was inside. 

“What is it?” Pansy asked as she leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse. 

“It says, uh,” you cleared your throat, a little bit flustered. “It says ‘people love to stare up at the stars, glimmering as they might in the night sky, yet everyone is too scared to enjoy the beauty that is the sun. you are my sun, and I would willingly go blind to catch even just a glimpse of you each day.’”

You friends all stared at you in shock. Draco, Blaise and Mattheo had their mouths hung open in shock. Enzo blushed a little bit, Theo had his eyebrows raised like he appreciated the words written on the page, and Pansy all but squealed as you read the letter. 

“Oh my god, I think I’m going to combust,” Pansy swooned. 

“Who’s it from?” Theo asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” You flipped the letter to the back to see if it was signed at all. “It’s only signed with a heart.”

“That is so romantic!” Pansy squealed as she clasped her hands around your arm. “Our sweet (Y/N) has a secret admirer!”

“Wonder who it could be,” Draco said as he flicked his fingers in motion to hand him the letter. 

You complied, and passed the note to him. 

“I don’t know,” he said as he flipped it all around. “The handwriting sort of looks familiar.”

“Maybe it’s someone you know?” Theo suggested as he grabbed the letter from Draco’s hands. He took it upon himself to check it out a time or two before passing it to Mattheo’s eager grasp.

“I think it’s kind of funny,” Mattheo chuckled. “What if it’s some first year trying to make their move on you?”

You shuttered. “Merlin, I sure hope not. I honestly don’t think a first year would be able to write something so beautiful.”

“Yeah, no way,” Pansy shook her head. “Mattheo, you’re just jealous you weren’t the one who sent (Y/N) this letter. Maybe she’d give you a chance if you did something romantic, or just not annoying for once.”

“First,” Mattheo said, “ouch. Second, who says I’m not the one who wrote (Y/N) this love letter?”

“Mattheo, you wouldn’t know romance if it hit you with a ten foot pole.” Pansy said. 

“Hey!” Mattheo complained. “Someone tell her I’m romantic.”

“Hell no,” Draco scoffed. “You’re ‘bout as romantic as bloody boil, mate.” 

You laughed as Mattheo scrunched his face up. The bells chimed signaling the end of breakfast and the start of first class. 

“I’m not too worried about it,” you said as you stood and started packing your stuff up. “It’s just a little letter. No harm in it.”

“But you don’t want to know who sent it?” Pansy asked as she grabbed her belongings as well. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I’m not silly enough to expect something to come from this; it’s just a note. It could be a prank for all we know.” 

“No one who writes like that is doing it as a prank,” Theo remarked. 

“Well, still, whatever the reason may be, I’m not gonna go out looking for this person. No matter how sweet the words are.” You smiled, “I’m gonna head to class, bye guys.”

On your way to class, you couldn’t help but recite the words written in the letter. They had made your heart flutter, as stupid as that sounds. You slightly resented the way it made you feel as it was only a few measly words on paper, but the romantic part of you couldn’t help but want to know who was behind them. 

✰  ✰  ✰

In your last class of the day, you finally were able to see your good friend Luna Lovegood. You had been waiting all morning to have class with her so you can inform her of the letter you received that morning. 

“And it was just so poetic, Luna. No one has ever said anything like that about me before.”

She smiled at you as you mindlessly drew on your assignment. “I think it sounds quite lovely. Do you have any idea who it may be from?”

You shook your head. “No idea. I don’t even think I know anyone who writes, well, anything.” 

“What about that boy Enzo you always hang out with?” Luna suggested. “I’ve got him in my literature class, he’s very talented.”

You thought to yourself for a second. Could it be possible Enzo was your secret admirer? You’d been friends for so long, and he’d always be especially kind to you.

Well, he’s especially kind to everyone, now that you think about it. 

“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I guess I just never would have expected it to be one of my friends, let alone Enzo.”

“I wouldn’t rule out your group of friends,” Luna said with a smile, “it could really be any one of them.” 

“You think so?” 

“Well, maybe not all of them, but I think it could be a good place to start if you were wanting to figure out who it is.”

As you pondered over Luna’s words, Slughorn made it a point to reiterate there was no talking allowed during the assignment. 

You rolled your eyes and got back to work, waiting for this class to be over so you could finally figure out who wrote you the letter. 

✰  ✰  ✰

Back in the common room you saw Pansy, Draco, and Enzo sitting on the couches. 

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” Pansy smiled as she scooted over and patted the spot next to her. “Find out anything new about your secret admirer?”

You smiled with a roll of your eyes as you sat with her. You kicked your shoes off and folded your legs under your body. “No, but I think I’ve got an idea brewing of how to find them.”

“Oh,” Draco smirked from the couch across from you. He folded his arms over his chest, “do tell, (Y/N), I’m very curious to see who it could be.” 

You shook your head, teasingly, “not a chance, Malfoy. I’m not giving up my secrets til I get to the bottom of this thing.” 

Draco raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, doll, if you wanna be secretive about your already secret admirer, I respect it.”

Enzo shifted in his seat a little uncomfortably. “It’s kind of strange though that they went out of their way to write something to you but kept it a secret. It just makes me a little apprehensive.”

“Oh, chill out, scaredy cat,” Pansy said. “(Y/N) will be fine, and if it’s someone weird at least she’s got us to look out for her.”

You grinned and wrapped your arms around Pansy’s neck. “Quit getting all sweet on me, Pans.”

She chuckled and playfully pushed you away. “Yeah, yeah. I’m not getting sweet, don’t get it twisted.”

You chuckled. “I think I’m gonna head up, got lots of scheming to get to,” you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows. 

You stood up from the couch and Pansy stood with you. “Farewell, boys, it’s been awful as usual.” She said with a smirk. 

“Thank Salazar you’re leaving,” Draco said to her. “Your presence was such a nuisance.” 

Pansy snarled at him and dramatically turned away to head up the stairs. You and Enzo shared a short laugh before you followed her up the stairs to your shared bedroom. 

✰  ✰  ✰

The next morning, you were last to the dining hall for breakfast. 

“Finally, she makes it,” Mattheo called out before taking a swig of his orange juice. 

You huff and settle into your seat between Enzo and Pansy. “I know, I overslept something horrible this morning.”

Since you were so late, the kitchen staff had already stopped serving breakfast meaning you were going without this morning. 

Theo glanced at you from across the table and pushed his plate towards you. “Here,” he said, “take anything you want.”

You looked down at saw scrambled eggs, french toast, and sausage links on his plate. 

“Really?” You grinned as you grabbed a sausage link from his plate. 

Theo nodded, “yeah, can’t have you go without eating. Lord only knows what a monster you can be without food.” He teased with a small smirk. 

You crinkled your nose up at his and grabbed a piece of french toast as well. “I’m gonna let that slide since you were nice enough to give up your breakfast. Don’t make me regret my kindness.”

Theo chuckled and pulled his plate back to him, glancing up at you before delving back into his plate. 

Mattheo tried to reach his hand over to Theo’s plate but was met with a slap on the wrist. 

“Ow!” Mattheo said as he cradled his wrist in fake hurt. “Theo, how could you? I thought we had something special.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “You got more food on your plate then the rest of us combined. I think you’ll be alright.”

You chuckled, but a thought crept into your mind. “Hey, guys, uh, did the post come today?” You asked. 

Draco raised his eyebrow with a smirk. “Waiting for another letter, are we?”

Your face burned as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. I kinda wanna get to the bottom of who it is.” 

“You’ll find ‘em, (Y/N/N),” Pansy said, “even if I have to interrogate everyone we know. We’ll get down to the bottom of it.” 

Just as she said that, the morning owl came swooping down towards you and dropped a small slip of paper in front of you. 

Draco smirked, “Looks like someone really wants your attention, (Y/N/N).”

You tried to hold back your smile as you unfolded the small post it note. 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read out to them, “'I love to see you smile, especially when you’re smiling at me.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet, actually.”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to get sweet for this mystery man,” Blaise interrupts. 

You shrug as you fold the note back up. “I don’t know, it is pretty sweet, no? And this must mean it’s someone I know personally because they said I smile at them.”

“Oh Godric,” Mattheo grinned, “you’ve fallen for a mystery man.”

“No I haven’t!” You protest. “I just think it’s sweet and now I know it’s someone I’m friends with and not some creepy first year.” 

“Wait,” Theo said, “how do you know it’s someone you’re friends with?”

“Because it says I smile at them,” you said obviously. “Who else do I smile at?”

“(Y/N), I hate to break it to you,” Pansy said as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “but you’re the most smiley slytherin I’ve ever met.”

You shrugged off her hand with a fake glare. “Hey! Give me some credit, I can be bad sometimes.”

Enzo chuckled, this is the first time he spoke all conversation. “You’re too sweet to be bad, (Y/N/N).”

You grinned and playfully bumped your shoulder against his. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just know it’s someone I know. I can feel it. It’s not some random person, it can’t be.” 

The bell rang, signaling the end of breakfast. You and your friends stood up to leave. You couldn’t help but think about the notes you received, pondering on who it could possibly be. 

✰  ✰  ✰

“Post is running late this morning,” Draco noted as the clock struck 8:26 with no sight of the morning owl. 

You were a tad disappointed. You had pondered all day yesterday about who it could be. You’ve narrowed it down quite a bit, and you think Luna may be on to something. While you don’t exactly think for sure that it’s Enzo, you do think you’ve narrowed it down to your group of close friends. 

You really just can’t see anyone else knowing you well enough to be this fascinated with you. The only one out of your friend group that you completely had ruled out is Blaise. 

Blaise was definitely out because out of the whole friend group, he was the least close with you. Frankly, you guys just don’t talk nearly as much as you talk to the rest of them. 

“Great,” Mattheo gruffed, “how will I be entertained this morning without (Y/N)‘s secret stalker and his confession of love.”

Okay, maybe Mattheo was out too. 

“Oi,” Theo piped up. “Don’t knock it too hard, (Y/N) seems to be enjoying herself with the letters.” 

You blushed a little as you shrugged. “I don’t want to seem weird by how invested I am in it, but I just think it’s sweet. No one’s ever really expressed this kind of feeling for me, so… you know,” you shrugged awkwardly, your face definitely beet red by now. 

“Well I for one am extremely invested in this,” Pansy said. “I’m lowkey jealous that I’m not the one with a secret admirer. What I wouldn’t give for someone to think of me that way.” 

“Maybe someday someone will like you, Pansy,” Enzo said reassuringly. 

“We might all be dead by the time that happens, but who knows, it might happen,” Mattheo said. 

Pansy gasped with a glare. “Wow what crawled up your ass this morning?”

Mattheo shrugged and focused his attention back to his breakfast plate. 

“Anyway,” Draco said, “I’m intrigued as well. I think I’ve got an idea who it could be, but I'm not quite positive.” 

You parked up at that. “Really? Who’s your guess?”

Draco smirked, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased. 

You glared at him, “Malfoy, if you know who it is you better spill.”

“I’m not saying I know who it is, I’m just saying I have a hunch at who it may be.”

“Oh!” Enzo exclaims as he points up in the air, “here comes the owl.”

You grin in anticipation as the owl drops a little note down in front of you. It was a larger note than yesterday, but this time it didn’t have something sweet written on it. 

It had a clue. 

“It just says ‘being your friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, though I’d be lying if I said i didn’t want to be more.’” You read. 

“So it is one of you!” Pansy shouted as she pointed her finger towards everyone at the table. 

Draco smirked, “that was my hunch. ‘Had a feeling it was one of these blokes.”

“And who says it’s not you, Malfoy?” Mattheo questioned with a raise of his brow. 

“Please,” Draco scoffed, “if I wanted to woo (Y/N) she’d be mine by now.” 

“Oh big talk from down that end,” Pansy rolled her eyes. 

“I could get anyone I want,” Draco puffed his chest. “I don’t need to be anonymous to do so.” 

“Hey, don’t hate on my letters, Draco.” You complained. “Least they got the balls to say something.” 

“Barely counts as having balls when they won’t even say who they are.” Mattheo countered. 

You huffed as your table fell into somewhat of a silence. Conversations picked up without you as your thoughts trailed off. 

Theo had been extremely quiet this entire time. While he was never the chatter bug, it was odd having gone almost the entire breakfast without hearing from him. 

As everyone else was engaged in conversation, you stared at the boy sitting across from you. His head was down as he played with his breakfast, pushing it around with his fork. 

You lightly kicked his leg under the table. 

Theo’s head perked up. His eyes stared into yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t remember what you wanted to say to the boy. 

His eyebrow raised in question as a small smirk glazed his lips. 

You blushed a little. “I-uh just wanted to see if you were alright. You didn’t really say too much the whole time we’ve been here.”

Theo shrugged as his smile dropped. “yeah, just don’t got too much input.” 

Your heart swelled. You really had turned each morning to revolve around you and your secret pen pal. 

“Sorry, Theo. I didn't mean to annoy you with all my talk of the letters.”

He shook his head. “You could never annoy me, doll.” 

Your heart beat like crazy. 

“Still, though, I feel bad about how much I’ve put into this. Let’s talk about something else.” You offered, “how’s class going?”

Theo chuckled and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Shit. I’m drowning in assignments and got two quizzes coming up that I’m just not ready for.” 

The bell rang. 

Theo groaned. “Got one next class. I think I might skip, though. Give myself some more time to prepare for it.”

As everyone started walking out of the dining hall, you grabbed Theo’s arm and pulled him back. 

His eyes widened slightly, but quickly reverted back to normal. 

“Maybe I‘ll skip with you,” you said, “if you’ll have me, that is. I can help you study. What class is it?”

Theo hesitated. “It’s, uh, herbology. ‘m not very good with plants and all that.”

You grinned, “I can help! I’m not too bad with flowers and plants.”

Theo nodded, “yeah, I could really use the help.”

“Okay, you wanna go to the library then?”

Theo shook his head. “I’ve got a good spot. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him. 

You followed him all the way out to the courtyard towards the opposite end of the school. You walked until you reach a large bench with intricate designs on the backing and arm rests. 

Theo took a seat. “Figured this would be good as any. Least now we can look at some plants up close, eh?”

You chuckled and took a seat next to him. “Yeah, sounds great, Theo. You got your textbook?”

He nodded and dug through his bag to pull it out. Once he handed it to you, you started flipping through the pages to get to the important material. 

“I’ve got the herbology exam 4th period, so I can help you study and it’ll help me study too! Win, win.”

Theo grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds good, doll.”

Your cheeks blushed. You couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. “I like when you call me doll.”

Your smile dropped. “Oh, geez, I did not mean to say that out loud.”

Theo’s face remained blank. That just made you more nervous. 

“Great, now I’ve weirded you out.” You exasperated. “I’m really sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m not weirded out, doll.” He cut you off. “Was just a little stunned is all. Didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than it already was, but somehow it did. 

“Well, still,” you mumbled as you looked down at the textbook again, “sorry.”

Theo sat for a minute, watching as you flipped through the book. Your eyebrows furrowed a little in aggravation. You were annoyed at yourself for how stupid you were being. It was Theo for Salazar sake. 

Though, you couldn’t help but admire the boy. He was gorgeous, for one, but he was also charming and witty. He was sweet and generous. You couldn’t deny you were attracted to him, but you had never thought he would see you in the same light. 

“(Y/N)?” Theo called. 

You looked up into his eyes. 

Theo stared at you, taking in each one of your features. Your eyes, your lips, your nose. You shifted a little, way too aware of his gaze on you. 

“Theo?” You called back. His gaze shifted back to your eyes. 

Before you could say anything, he softly spoke, “I’m the one sending you those letters, (Y/N/N).” 

You stared at him in shock. 

No way. 

“Y-you’re the one who wrote me the letters?” 

He slowly nodded his head. Theo’s lip was drawn in between his teeth. “Is, uh, are you disappointed?”

“What?” you exclaimed. 

He shrugged, “I mean, you just really seemed to like the letters, and I know you wanted to know who it was, so I just hope I haven’t disappointed you in the revelation.”

You shook your head. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.”

Theo’s head shot up to look at you. “Really?”

You smiled and nodded. “Mhm, I like you Theo. I have for a while now, actually, I just thought you’d never give a chance.”

He laughed. “You thought I’d never give you a chance? I thought you’d never give me a chance.”

You laughed loudly together. When it finally subsided to quiet chuckles, you said,  “I really like you, Theo.”

Theo’s smile grew. In a quick moment, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a kiss. 

You gasped against his lips, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. His textbook fell off your lap as he pulled you closer by the waist. 

You kissed him until you couldn’t kiss anymore. Finally pulling back, Theo’s grin was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, even with his lips a little puffy from your kiss. 

“I really like you, Theodore.”

He grinned, “I really like you, more (Y/N).”

[atlabeth]

pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it. 

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.  

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments. 

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.” 

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?” 

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.” 

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.” 

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh. 

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.” 

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him. 

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?” 

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.” 

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.” 

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says. 

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?” 

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.” 

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something. 

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.” 

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep. 

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks. 

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.” 

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity. 

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses. 

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.” 

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him. 

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly. 

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.” 

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?” 

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus. 

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel. 

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent. 

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses. 

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.  

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?” 

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?” 

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.” 

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.” 

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this. 

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.” 

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.” 

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks. 

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?” 

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves. 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.” 

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.” 

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.” 

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.” 

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.” 

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.” 

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.” 

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.” 

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?” 

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.” 

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today. 

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?” 

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.” 

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.” 

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?” 

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” 

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here. 

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.” 

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here. 

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head. 

“You don’t need to pay me back.” 

“Really?” 

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.” 

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning. 

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says. 

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!” 

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.” 

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.” 

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.” 

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[st-dionysus]

(The Poem is named) Emetophobia CW

It’s 2024 and I’m in a 20 year old drag bar, watching the very first trans-masculine performer to compete on their stage, he gets second place even though he deserved first.

I show up to the men’s bathhouse on trans night to get free entry and get turned away at the door, and told it’s for transgirls only, bitch you could have put it on the flyer that transmen need not apply.

I’m doing a line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I get banned from the camsite for listing myself as transgender when I don’t have a dick, I complain online and get told that the trans-masculine body is to grotesque to be fetishized and I should be grateful.

I wear a packer and hitch up a skirt, walk the street, get $20, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Cissie puts a TW #body-mutilation tag under my thirst trap. Tranny puts a TW #dysphoria tag under my thirst trap.

T-girl with a callout post pedojackets me, Enby with TME in bio pedojackets me, T-boy with a self-deprecating joke about men in his bio pedojackets me.

I do another line of ketamine off the table, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic, I am at the woman’s clinic wearing a mask – not cause I’m compromised (I am), just to hide my beard – avoiding making everyone uncomfortable.

I am getting re-diagnosed with BPD, which just means I have bitch disorder and no one trusts me.

I take my pills and throw them up. I drink my liquor before the beer and throw them up.

I am just 14 when the picture and videos go up. Remind me that I have it easy, they were only pictures and videos.

I am just 17 when the recording of my proof stops before it happens, my phone memory is full, I’m called a liar and now I can’t see buttered crackers, thanksgiving, or sriracha sauce without wanting to kill myself.

No one gets me therapy, but they still want to convert me, she puts her hands down my pants, at least I’m 19, to remind me I’m a woman – tell me how they love trans men again.

I do a third line of ketamine off the table, realize it doesn’t effect me, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I call myself a dog, I start biting my lovers and I have to hold back from ripping out a chunk of flesh, I don’t think I’d throw it up.

I am reading the statistics, 40% of BPD patients try and kill themselves. 1 in 2 transgender men try and kill themselves. I’m one of them. I’m 12 and I swallowed all the pills. I’m 14 and the gun is empty. I’m 17 and I put the box-opener against my throat. Therapist calls me a liar, there is no scar, and my words don’t count for anything.

I’m using he/him pronouns for Stormé DeLarverie, like the stonewall veteran association said to, and telling you he started the riot, calling it stealing transfem valor from a woman who told you she didn’t fucking do it.

I’m shoving my fingers down my throat in a fit of mania, convinced I can vomit up my uterus. She tells me I should be grateful, she’d do anything to be able to get pregnant.

My brother in the struggle gets bottom surgery without top, calling it stealing transfem valor to feel comfortable in his body.

It’s 2024 and I’m at trans pride, the announcers tells everyone to give a round of applause for trans woman, a round of applause for gender-queers, a round of applause for transfems, a round of applause for the enbies, a round of applause for trans-masculine people. You forgot someone. Did you know a trans man started the first ever transgender pride parade?

A book on queer history talks about gay men and lesbians and trans women and the women who dressed as men for better job opportunities. I’m reminded that my invisibility is a privilege, if you aren’t seen you don’t get bashed.

I’m 13 and they throw me in the girls bathroom, pin me down, beat me, and in black sharpie write “dyke”, write “tranny”, write “lesbo”, and pull my hair out the cap I shoved it in.

I’m 19 with D cups that a binder can’t hide and a beard I refuse to shave less I break the mirror and kill myself with the shards of glass I would swallow.

Man at the bus stop calls me tranny and tells me I’ll never be a woman. I’d laugh if he didn’t have his hand on my throat. Calling it stealing transfem valor.

I’m 21 and have to pull a taser on him, cause from the back, even with short hair and top surgery, I look rape-able.

I’m 23 and in the gay district when they chase me down the street, calling me faggot.

Make another forcemasc post, calling it stealing transfem valor.

Read an article about a trans man prostitute that kills himself and ends up another female statistic.

Read an article about a trans man shooter, they blame the HRT he didn’t have access too.

Going to read a callout about me, five pages on Google Docs, does this post make it on the list?

Do a final line of ketamine, write the final line of a poem that makes me want to die, calling it stealing transfem valor.

I puke and miss the toilet.

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, captivity, fantasy lore, abuse, murder mention, suggestive (?)

"You seem to be upset."

He's leaning against the window not too far away from you. Not too close as well - just far enough for you to feel at ease.

"Aren't you a mind - reader." You respond under your breath, trying to focus on the book you're currently reading - but the letters are escaping you, and you find yourself re-reading the same paragraph for the third time. He sighs, much like a disappointed father, before stepping towards you. And if you flinch just slightly, he doesn't pretend to notice or care.

"What is wrong, my flower?" The man gestures theatrically, soft velvet voice unbecoming of the monster he is flowing easily into the open air. You don't know what to say, really. It's been two years - or so you think, there is no way to keep track of time in this kingdom, not that time goes the same way in the elfen world as it does in the human, yet the part of you still capable of logical thought seems to think so. Two years, and there is very little you haven't already said. Very little left to be said, so your conversations are mostly rehearsed repetitions of what you already know. What you already fear - that you're going to die here. Or even worse. That you've become incapable of aging, so very consumed by this foreign land you detest that you've given up death for a life of boring, purposeless immortality.

"Don't I shower you with lavish gifts?" The noble moves closer, stalking towards you - observing you as if you're a butterfly pinned to a wooden frame under a microscope. "Don't I buy you the shiniest jewels? Not even the queen herself owns such sparkling emeralds." He scoffs, painfully used to your lack of response. You clear your throat, turning a new page - having little to recall about the last. It's completely meaningless just like all the other pages in all the other books you read. How funny, you think. In that distant, dreamy past of yours you were too busy to read - busy with work, busy with family, busy with friends. Busy with life. Now nothing gets in the way of your reading, you have all the time in the world - but there's no one to share the knowledge with. No one to spoil the ending. No time limits. No goal to it all, no final destination. So you read, and you soak the pages with salty tears not remembering a word.

"I am grateful for all the treasures you give me, my Lord." You answer nonchalantly, keeping your pointer at the end of the paper in a desperate attempt to find the sentence exactly where you left it off. You can feel him move closer to you - and the only indication of your growing fear are the shivers that travel down your spine with the beat of your violently full, thumping heart.

"Don't I provide you with all the entertainment your little human heart could possibly bear?" The duke clicks his long sharp nails together once against the other - an ugly metallic sound echoes deep into the ceiling reminiscent of a dying forest clow. "There has never been a lack of wine or music or dance in my court. I've gifted you more golden dresses than you can wear in this life. I've written you more poems than you can read." He keeps going, describing every little thing he's done for you, despite the fact that you've never asked for any of it.

"I admire your taste for indulgence, my Lord." You repeat almost automatically, the praises sitting on your tongue just waiting to be spilt from parted honey lips. Your eyes are glued to the book, but you've given up on reading long ago. Now you're simply trying not to cry - focusing your eyes at one word at a time and blinking repeatedly, manically, feeling as if the world with end the moment you let him see your weakness. You can't believe you still have so much pain in you - enough to feel loss and anger and, what's even worse, hope. Hope that one day you'll be free again.

"And tell me, flower—" His fist wraps around your low ponytail, forcing you to look up at him and meet his eyes for the first time tonight. What's staring back at you might as well be the bottom of the ocean itself, misty and dark, cold and unknown. Human eyes convey so much affection - so much care that you can never mistake it for anything else. With elves it's different - you can spend centuries looking for a hint of kindness, and you'll only get lost in those beatiful bottomless pits. Shiny and sparkling and completely empty. "Don't I give you love? Don't I embrace you tightly every night?" His voice lowers dangerously, barely above a whisper.

"I don't understand what more you could possibly want. Should I prove myself to you? Should I slay a dragon for you? Perhaps I could tie the heads of your enemies with a pretty bow and give them to you as a wedding gift, hmm?" He's babbling incoherently, nails digging into your scalp with unyealding grip. "Would that finally, finally make you happy, beloved?"

"No, no, please let go." You cry out in agony, wriggling out of his hold - but he's too strong, too massive to move. "I'm happy, I'm—" You sob pitifully, weakly pushing at his chest. "I'm happy with you. Please, you make me so happy, just please let go. And please don't hurt anyone."

He slowly pulls away, chest heaving in and out wildly. The scariest part is always his face. It remains unbothered - cold and defined like a statue of a god, his true feelings hidden by a mask of barely contained rage.

"You're happy with me?" He raises an eyebrow, foot stomping on the ground impatiently. You nod hesitantly, too shaken up to comprehend what you're even agreeing to. "Then prove it. Show me just how happy I make you." He grabs your wrist, pulling you face-first into his hard chest. "Do it, and I might reconsider my other more... inhumane methods of courtship." His lips twist into a cruel smirk. "And may the Gods help you."

As you sink to your knees you try to think of what book to read next - but no title comes to mind.

[hedgehog-moss]

Look at the delicious sushi for llamas I made today:

It's courgette stuffed with deworming paste and thanks to Poldine my plan went swimmingly. Pampelune is sometimes distrustful on deworming day, but when they saw Poldine get a treat then try to steal the other treats which were obviously meant for them, the other animals hurried to claim their own medicinal courgette as well.

Except Pampe. (How many times have I written these words.) She looked at her sushi, looked at me, sniffed every side of the courgette, decided it smelled like deceit, and walked away.

I felt daft for not going the muesli route straight away. Like all great tricksters Pampérigouste is suspicious by nature but she can't resist muesli. So I un-stuffed the courgette and used the sticky deworming paste to fashion a little muesli ball.

It was gooey and not very appetising but it's muesli, right? I camouflaged the muesli ball in a dish of innocent muesli and offered it to Pampe, but unfortunately she was now very aware that I was up to something. Instead of mindlessly vacuuming the contents of the muesli dish as she usually does, she examined the strange slimy little ball, pushed it away with her nose with obvious contempt, then ate the normal muesli. I tried (with increasing insistence and frustration) to convince her to eat the damn muesli ball, but no.

New idea: I went to the kitchen to get some pumpkin rinds, and squished the muesli ball between two small pieces of pumpkin skin like a Choco BN (if you're from the US, picture an orange worm-killing Oreo). Pampe likes pumpkin skin! I tried to explain to her that she would be punishing only herself if she refused the (admittedly deceitful) offering out of principle.

Somehow she managed to eat the outside 'biscuits' and spit out the stuffing.

At this point I had to shame her. (I told her to look ashamed for this photo; not sure she understood the assignment)

I had exhausted my creativity and had nothing left but the mean method. I got Pampe in llama jail, aka the school room where I spent many hours trying to teach her to wear a halter and be a good docile llama when she was little, while she spent many hours trying to escape by any conceivable means—high jumps, bribery, tunnels, you name it.

(In the background behind Poldine you can see the bag of hay that I used to get the llamas to follow me into the corral. Pampe naively thought I had given up on trying to make her eat gross slimy things and was about to give her a normal meal)

She tried a strange kind of escape this time around, which honestly might have worked if she were a swift salmon returning to her natal river to spawn, slicing against the current in a series of graceful, forward-arching curves. But she's a llama. It's like she forgot she wasn't all neck and also had a body that needed to clear this obstacle.

I sang her a little song to soothe her, and scritched her face, and managed to get a llama kiss which is more affection than I've ever received from a currently-jailed Pampe—her daughter really is a good influence on her!

So of course I took advantage of this moment of calm and trust to stick my hidden secret syringe in the corner of her mouth and push 2cm of deworming paste onto her tongue.

She was VEXED and WROTH.

We were talking about learning poetry by heart the other day; well, if Pampérigouste did that, "I am rowing (a hex poem)" is the poem she would have invoked in that moment.

After I left, all the other animals hurried into the corral to eat the hay I had used to get Pampe in, while Pampe turned her back on the meal and walked away a strategic distance, far enough to show me that she felt betrayed and would never eat any food I bring her ever again, not so far that she couldn't go back in and fight the donkey for what was left of the hay as soon as I stopped looking.

[catsushizz]

Love me until I love myself - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: Spencer got used to his life consisting of books and the BAU he had never truly viewed the prospect of love but when you came it all just clicked.

Warning: no use of y/n

Fluff

WC: 1.1k

----

Spencer got used to waking up with an empty bed beside him and it never crossed his mind that it made him feel lonely or sad it just felt natural. His apartment is quiet and he never noticed that his eyes grow somber as the day passes, it's unnoticeable, subtle but there.

He was in a state where no one knew what was going on with his life but he'd like to think that his life was a mere touch of tranquility whenever there was no phone going off every second of the day.

But a single touch of color changed how he perceived life and gradually he found himself falling in love. It's like the cosmic collided when you first talked to him and from there on public libraries became his solace everything you like became his safe space, benches in the park, the car that you take road trips in, the Lumineers, and your favorite cafe. You were the color that was missing from his blank canvas, no matter how rough he was, you smoothened the edges of his life.

You were the subject of his poems, the muse of his dreams, and the bearer of his heart. Tangled in a sea of messy sheets, your hands draped over his torso, his head buried in the crook of your neck, and for the first time, he was terrified of waking up alone.

His eyes flutter open and search for you and when they land on your sleeping figure he can feel his heart palpitate in adoration. The ever-growing branches of his life continued to grow but were now accompanied by the leaves that were growing between the crevice of his broken branches.

Your touch was addicting, your fingertips would explore every inch of his body. He notices when your finger brushes against his scars you massage patterns with precision and he feels like his heart could burst, he loves you so much it hurts.

He can't even imagine the storm taking you away from him, he would suffer an endless flood if that were to happen.

He loves how you glow so effortlessly under the scrutiny of the sun or the way you hold his hands whenever you feel like he needs it but he especially loves the fact that you love him despite his flaws. There are nights when you fought so loudly and exchanged some hurtful words, and he remembered how much he wanted to take it back but you weren't perfect either and that molded you both together so perfectly that not even the afterglow can rival it.

Spencer never really quite grasped the concept of life solely because he didn't know if he was choosing the right path and it keeps him up at night, what if he chose a different path and completely risked not meeting you? he would rather die, you were cuddled up with him on the couch watching documentaries when he blurted out his concerns, but your sentiments deemed his thoughts.

"I think no matter what path you choose, it will always lead to us, our souls are intertwined, and it's carved in our hearts. There's a possibility that there's a chance for us to meet again in another lifetime I think I will recognize you, purely because I'm sure our souls left remnants of our past lives to help us remember how much we truly loved each other," you whispered, as you ran your fingers through his unruly hair.

His heart skipped a beat, you still make him feel that way despite his youth withering each day, you make him feel young.

"I love you, you're the best thing life has given me" he tried his best to keep his voice stable but it wobbled and you chuckled lightly.

"You know I love you more" You wiggle your brows at him with a grin. He laughed and pulled you impossibly close.

"But I love you most" he replied and you groaned burying yourself in the crook of his neck.

"we're not gonna bicker about this again, let's just say we love each other so much that time can't measure it" you murmured as you kissed the crook of his neck, he giggled at the contact of your kiss making you subconsciously smile.

"But I love you more than everything though" he teased.

"Don't you dare quote Beautiful Boy to me right now" you sternly said and he laughed. Oh, his life was different now but different in a way where you crave for it to last forever.

His broken parts where he learns to hate, you learned to love, and the things you hate about yourself he came to adore. Spencer always felt like an extra piece in a puzzle but turns out you were too, both of you stand out in the best way possible, and to the ends of the earth, he will follow you, his life in the BAU be damned.

If ever old age has its way of finding him then all the light in the world may cease to exist. Time can consume so much in a person, that Spencer wasn't sure if he liked it but growing old with you was a different story.

He'll live and tell a story of how much he loved a single girl who completely changed his life, even if his hand trembles in every movement he makes, and even if his memory fades he'll hold on to you so deep in his heart until his next life where he gets to hold you again.

The theory of everything started when you met and ended when his skin gradually changed and how his wrinkles deepened until he was one with nature.

Buried next to each other as both of you wished, your children visit the sacred place with their kids and then they'll tell the story of how both of you fell in love and they'll add how much the both of you loved your children.

----

You were running late, coffee in hand and it happened so fast that you didn't even notice that he was there. You collided with someone your coffee spilling on the man's shirt and your eyes widened in horror.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed as you rushed to get the tissues out of your bag to help him.

"Hey, it's fine" came his calm yet familiar voice. Sensing that he was looking at you, you averted your gaze to meet his eyes and you felt the world suddenly stop.

He has the most beautiful hazel eyes you've ever seen and his brown curly hair added charm to his chiseled face. He looked familiar you're sure of it, and without you knowing, he felt the same way too.

"Hi," he softly whispered stuck in a daze as he looked at you.

You let out an airy chuckle "I'm sorry, do I know you?" You asked.

So the cycle starts again.

[bluelockmaniac]

👑 .𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

ft. crown prince!itoshi sae x commoner!femreader x second prince!itoshi rin (only bc you are rin's fiancée)

🗡 synopsis. you were chosen to be the second prince’s fiancée for rin’s convenience, but fate had different plans when you fell for his older brother, the crown prince, instead. as you start hearing strange voices during your engagement ball, sae falls victim to alexis’ curse, which only your love can break. what happens when news spread of the crown prince's revival and rin finds out?

⛓ content warning. 13.3k (yikes)ノ royal au ノ classism ノ cheating themes & pdaノ⚠ rin is rude, offensive, & insulting ノ your parents & sis for plot are assholes ノ semi-arranged marriage (?) ノ reader is illiterate ノ narration heavy ノ reader gets called whore once ノ implied death & gorish description ノ implied stranglingノ animal murder ノ minimal implication of shorter readerノthe relationship with sae is highkey rushed now that i reread it.

notes. this took me two weeks+ to finish ahhh. i thank my past self for being obsessed with manhwas so muchh, and ty to rhymezone for saving my ass w/ the ancient poem. first time using capital letters when writing fanfics, only bc it's really long though, eeee.

In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon,

When Stars Align and Shadows Loom,

The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night,

By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.

But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,

Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,

With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,

To Bring the Order, End the Storm.

A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,

In the Embrace of a Simple Face.

But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,

For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” your father stammered, “M-My eldest daughter has fallen gravely ill, and I fear she physically cannot journey to the Grand Empire of Aquaria tomorrow!”

The king’s eyes flared open in shock as the words reached his ears. His grip on the plush armrest of his throne tightened, the baroque carvings digging into his palm.

“What?!” He yelled, dismissing the fan bearer with a sharp glare before rising from his throne and taking two steps forward. His shadow covered large over your father’s trembling figure. 

“She chooses now, of all times, to be stricken with sickness? At a crucial time for our kingdom? Such insolence!” He descended three more steps and glared down at him. “Did you forget that His Imperial Highness has specifically requested a lady from your clan?”

“I—”

The king struck his scepter harshly against the floor, silencing the man. “All the other houses of your garbage clan bore only sons,” he spat, “She will go, and that is final!”

“Actually…” the commoner’s lips pointed upwards in a well-rehearsed smile as he placed a hand over his heart in false politeness. “I have another daughter. She’s eager— eager to fulfill her duty. She is twenty, two years younger than the prince, but still of age.”

King Orion arched an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Very well,” he replied, waving his hand in disinterest as he returned to his throne. “Summon her.”

In truth, the king’s concern wasn’t with Aria, your older sister. He cared little for which daughter was offered up to Aquaria’s second prince. It was a political necessity, nothing more— a favour to His Imperial Highness, Prince Rin. Or more like a fulfillment of Rin’s rather odd request that came with a threat. As long as someone from your clan was presented, it mattered not to him whether it was your sister or some other sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.

At the call of your name, the guards creaked open the heavy doors, and you entered the throne chamber slowly. When you reached the foot of the throne, you lowered your body in a curtsey bow, your gaze fixed on the scarlet carpet that stretched beneath you.

“It is my greatest honour to stand before you, Your Majesty,” you said, though your indifferent tone made it clear to anyone listening that you longed for nothing more than to be anywhere but here.

But you knew the truth behind this charade. Aria wasn’t ill. She was the jewel of your parents’ eye, their pride and joy, shielded from the Empire’s gaze like a pirate’s precious treasure. You, on the other hand, were the forgotten one– the daughter they kept hidden, a mere shadow in their halls, easily discarded when it was convenient. To your father, you were a little more than a weight around his neck, an extra mouth to feed, a burden he was eager to rid himself of.

The king’s eyes scanned you up and down, his expression visibly souring as he took in the sight of your tattered ankle-high, brown dress and scuffed boots. Disgusting.

“Ugh,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on one elbow as he sneered at you. “She’ll do, I suppose. Pretty enough for their tastes.” He turned to his chancellor with a condescending wave. “Have the maids find something more… suitable for this one.”

The chancellor bowed deeply, “At once, Your Majesty.”

“Alright, you’ve packed everything, haven’t you?” your mother asked as she rubbed Aria’s shoulder comfortingly.

Your gaze drifted to the battered briefcase lying at your feet. You had stumbled upon it by accident, shoved into a forgotten corner of the dirty attic, coated in layers of dust and practically falling apart at the seams. With a sigh, you bent down to pick it up, nodding as it threatened to collapse.

“Yes,” you murmured, a bitter smile tugging at your lips, “There was hardly anything to pack, anyway.”

Your father scoffed, rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Aria, who had begun to shed what you knew to be crocodile tears. The act was almost laughable. She suddenly broke free from their grasp and rushed over to you, flinging her arms around your waist with a dramatic sob.

“Y/N!” she cried, “Please take care of yourself– hic– I’m going to miss you so much!”

You hesitated for a moment before stiffly returning her hug. She was a liar, through and through, and you both knew it. 

Before the act could continue, the distant sound of hooves clattering against cobblestone paths captured your attention. Gently, you pried yourself away from her clutches, turning toward the approaching sound.

Your breath hitched. The Empire’s Royal Carriage was quickly nearing, and it was no exaggeration to say that its massive size dwarfed everything coming its way. It was magnificent, its gleaming white exterior and elegant navy blue designs that were above the huge clattering wheels. Silken curtains furnished the windows, embroidered with golden threads that caught the eyes of your greedy family. But what truly stole your attention was the shining silver crown perched atop the carriage, with Aquaria’s Royal Crest.

“Listen–” your father’s obnoxious voice cut through your admiration. He leaned close, his voice coming out in a hiss, “You better behave yourself, got it? If you mess this up, it’s not just you– it’s all of us. Understand?”

You shrugged off his threat with a nonchalant nod, “I’ll do my best.”

The sounds of the porcelain horses neighing were suddenly right behind you. They looked so soft, so immaculate, that you had to resist the urge to reach out and glide your fingers through their carefully groomed manes. But you knew better. This was no place for such frivolities.

The royal coachman descended from his designated seat and approached you. His right hand gracefully flew to his heart and he bowed slightly, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

“Greetings, my lady,” he said, straightening himself elegantly as his brown eyes met yours. He took your worn briefcase from your hand and placed it gently in the carriage’s wide storage compartment in the back. Then, he slid aside the long curtains and extended his hand toward you.

This was it. The moment you stepped into that carriage, you would leave this wretched life behind forever. No more grime, no more being hidden away like some shameful secret. You would be free– or at least you clung to the hope of freedom. 

Taking the coachman’s hand, you felt the fine material of your simple sage gown– one begrudgingly gifted by King Orion– brush against the spotless steps of the carriage. You could hardly believe you, of all people, had the privilege of entering something so grand, so expensive.

For one last time, you glanced back at your so-called family. They stood there, masks with feigned expressions of sorrow worn over their faces. But you weren’t fooled, and you certainly weren’t going to indulge them. Instead, a slow grin crept across your face and you mouthed a few words that served as a final act of defiance.

“Shitty lives for shitty people, I guess.”

“.... lady,”

“My….”

“My lady!”

“Hm…” You muttered drowsily, your eyelids slowly fluttering open to the sight of the coachman and several other servants peering in at you with concerned expressions. Startled, you shot upright, your hands grasping the seat beneath you. “Y-Yes!”

So far, you were off to a great start.

But now, as you finally stepped out of the carriage and beheld the regal palace before you, every bit of exhaustion from the long ride seemed to dissolve. The sight of it stole your breath and you tried to conjure up a word to describe it, but words escaped you. Beautiful, perhaps, though even that felt insufficient. Magnificent, maybe. 

There were towering stone sculptures and a large marble fountain in the center, its water elegantly cascading down like it was raining crystals. The front lawn was meticulously trimmed and maintained till perfection. The walls of the palace shined, built from pale limestone that you recognized from years of working with fire and sedimentary rocks. And at the peak of the palace dome, a lone flag fluttered in the breeze, proudly displaying the Royal Crest of Aquaria.

Your home now.

Yet, no lines of maids awaited your arrival at the main entrance, as you’d always imagined from reading those fairytale books you’d find tucked away in your attic. And there was certainly no sign of your supposed fiancé— His Imperial Highness, Itoshi Rin, the Second Prince of the Empire.

But then again, it made sense. You were just a humble village girl, after all— hardly worth the attention of someone as important as him.

The sudden neighing of a horse behind you jolted you from your thoughts, and you spun around. There, your gaze locked with the prettiest set of eyes you had ever seen— legendary teal irises framed by lashes so thick they casted a shadow on his cheekbones.

If the palace was magnificent, then he was simply breathtaking. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you instinctively took a step forward toward him, prepared to pinch fistfuls of your dress and bow down to him. 

He must be your fiancé, you thought. How could he not be? Those eyes were a symbol of royalty. His dark, reddish hair swayed with every blow of the wind, and the way an exquisite sapphire brooch shone against his royal attire screamed authority.

What did they call this phenomenon? Love at first sight? But then—

“Welcome back, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince!” a unified set of voices suddenly echoed from behind you in greeting, and you whipped your head back to see every servant and the carriage driver on their knees, their heads bowed low, and their hands clutched to their chests.

Crown Prince? Your breath caught in your throat. The Crown Prince? In other words, the future Emperor of Aquaria?

His gaze left yours to briefly sweep over the kneeling palace workers, before he waved his hand dismissively. “Rise.” he ordered. His deep voice made you feel a sudden tightening in your throat, and you had the urge to obey though you weren’t even on your knees.

When his eyes returned to you, you flinched, every nerve of your body feeling on edge. You drew in a sufficient amount of fresh air and held onto bunches of your gown, bowing respectfully.

“G-Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,” you stuttered.

Sae guided his horse to a halt and swung his leg over the saddle, dismounting and landing on the grass smoothly. He gave the mare a gentle pat, and you suddenly felt conscious as he approached you in long strides.

He stopped just in front of you, eyes seemingly studying you. “You are?”

You swallowed nervously, daring to meet his aquamarine gaze. “Y/N,” you said softly, “The Second Imperial Prince’s fiancée.”

His eyes narrowed and he closed them fleetingly before opening them again. “I see… That foolish younger brother of mine.”

You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Your sparkling eyes flickered to his mare standing patiently beside him for a moment too long. Her coat was as white as fresh snow, and it almost hurt your eyes the way the sunlight reflected off her.

He noticed. “Oh, her?” He nodded toward the horse, gesturing for you to come closer. “Go on. You can touch her if you wish.” 

Your eyes widened in disbelief, trodding towards him in excitement. “May I, really?”

“Sure, whatever,” he muttered nonchalantly, though his gaze softened slightly. He was more focused on observing the horse’s reaction to you.

With careful hands, you reached out and gently raked your fingers through her silky mane. A delighted giggle escaped your lips as the fauna neighed softly and nudged your hand for more of your kind attention.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, and he hummed in interest. You paused for a moment, glancing at the prince curiously. “What’s her name?”

“Celestia,” he replied, pulling on the horse’s rein before folding his arms over his chest. He watched you interact with the animal. “She rarely warms up to anyone, but it seems as if she likes you.”

Your eyes lit up with surprise and you smiled, your fingers still tangled in the horse’s mane. “Celestia is a beautiful name… It suits her. She’s as white as the moon.”

For a brief moment, the prince turned his head to the side, as if he was hiding something from your view. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d trust anyone his beautiful horse liked. His fingers slipped through his tousled red hair, and though his voice slightly carried a tone of arrogance, it was also laced with something else. “Tch. Thanks. I named her myself.”

You laughed lightly, “How old is she?”

“Turning nine soon,” he answered, giving her a pat. “She’s the mother of a black stallion.”

Your eyes twinkled in awe, fists clenched in front of you as you beamed up at him. “She’s a mother?!”

Sae raised a brow, leaning back slightly. “You’re standing too close.”

“A-Ah, my apologies, Your Highness,” You stuttered, retreating several steps just in case. “I… I seem to have forgotten my place,”

“No, it’s quite alr—” He started, lifting a hand as if to stop you from backing away, but was interrupted by one of the pesky servants from Rin’s wing of the palace. “...”

“I-I apologize for interrupting y-your conversation, Your Imperial Highness,” She panted, bowing low, “But The Second Prince has requested his fiancée’s presence for a private audience.”

Sae clicked his tongue in annoyance, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he mounted Celestia. “I guess it cannot be helped. Fine, whatever.”

Your heart sank slightly, a wave of disappointment looming over your ethereal features. Your pretty eyes downcast and fists clenched lightly by your sides. You had hoped to stay just a little longer, either with the man you had mistaken for your fiancé or perhaps with the beautiful horse. You weren’t sure which had captured your fascination more.

You thought that, perhaps, if Rin was not unlike his brother, then marrying him probably wouldn’t be so bad.

Still, with a deep breath, you held onto your skirt and followed the maid. But just before you left, you glanced back over your shoulder at the First Prince with a smile so pretty it could coax the sun out of the sky and make even the stars envious.

“See you around, Your Highness!” You called out, waving your arm before turning around to trail after the servant woman.

Sae stood frozen for a heartbeat, his thoughts clouded by the ghost of that smile. Something stirred in his chest, something unfamiliar and probably unwelcome. He huffed quietly, silking his hand through his hair before muttering under his breath.

“Yeah… see you.”

Your heart raced as you stood before the polished double doors of Rin’s chamber. You swallowed hard in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your breaths came in shallow, like there was some sort of invisible weight pressed against your chest. 

Your hand hesitantly hovered mere inches from the door. You hadn’t even met the man and yet the tension was thicker than when you had personally greeted the crown prince.

The maid beside you fidgeted, clearly just as anxious. She stammered softly, “My lady…  j-just knock and wait for his word. I-I’ll take my leave now.”

You nodded, watching her scurry away so quickly as if she couldn’t wait to be out of the prince’s domain. You blinked in thought— if the servants in this wing were this jumpy around him, it didn’t bode well.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling fingers. After whispering a few reassurances to yourself, you finally raised your knuckles and knocked gently on the door.

No answer.

A few more seconds passed before you tried again, but this time you heard a deep, irritated voice call out.

“Enter.”

You gulped and planted your hands on the heavy door, pushing it open. The moment you stepped in, you held in your breath. The interior was extravagant beyond words– a room fit for royalty, as expected. 

Your enlarged eyes scanned the deluxe chamber, mouth unintentionally falling agape at all it held. But the awe immediately vanished as your gaze landed on Rin. The prince stood by a grand archtop window with his back to you, gazing down at the Aquaria Royal Gardens— which, to compare in size, were bigger than your whole village fit together.

He turned at the sound of your entrance, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing with a look of disdain. His voice was flat, yet annoyed. “Quit ogling and close the door behind you.”

It was an order, and you felt your body immediately move on its own. Your hands fumbled as you quickly shut the door, unable to keep the heat of embarrassment from rising to your cheeks. You lowered your gaze, focusing on the rosa aurora marble floor beneath you.

Rin’s eyes raked over you, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. His eyes were just as icy as his brother’s, but where Sae had a certain aloofness, Rin’s coldness felt like a blade to the throat. He eventually crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you condescendingly, “No proper greeting?”

Your mind scrambled. “Ah..!” Your fingers gripped onto the fabric of your dress tightly as you bowed stiffly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y-Your Imperial Highness,”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if the very sight of you was an inconvenience. “Horrible posture,” he muttered. “Your etiquette needs a lot of work.”

Your heart sank further, and humiliation washed over your whole face. You straightened up and pursed your lips together tightly, the words sticking to your throat like superglue, afraid that whatever you’d say next would only make matters worse.

He remained quiet and turned around, walking to the large seating area in the corner of his chamber. You hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat right beside him on the burgundy plush.

He eyed you sideways, clearly displeased. “...Really?”

“Um…” You shuffled your feet awkwardly, the fabric swishing against your ankles. “Sitting in front of you would be presumptuous of me… How dare I make eye contact with someone as great as you, given my position?”

He rolled his eyes at your words. “How audacious.”

“Oh— Your Highness, you’ve got an eyelash on your cheek,” You started, instinctively reaching out to brush it away. But before your fingers could make contact, his hand snapped out, roughly swatting yours away.

“Don’t fucking touch me, commoner scum.” He hissed.

You immediately withdrew, rubbing your stinging hand gently. You bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. “I apol—”

“Go sit in front.”

You obeyed without question, your body moving on autopilot as you rose from the sofa, taking a seat across from him. If you hadn’t the guts to defy your parents, what made you think you could defy a prince? You didn’t even have the strength to be angry; you were too preoccupied with trying to hold yourself together under his oppressive gaze.

What followed was more of an interrogation than a conversation.

“Can you read?”

“No.”

“Write?”

“No.”

“Table manners?”

“I eat with my hands.”

“... Can you do anything at all?”

Your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you swallowed thickly, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I can make really good vegetable soup...”

“...”

The silence stretched out, and you could feel your self-worth slowly becoming nonexistent. After a moment, he stood with a sigh, making you flinch. 

You averted your gaze to the window and you tapped your foot anxiously against the floor. You realized you were swallowing thick lumps of nothing more than usual. All his questions were glazed with layers of dripping haughtiness and it hurt when you realized how useless and worthless you were as you answered each one.

“No, this is good,” He assured, almost to himself, as he began unbuttoning his white shirt. You looked up at him, confused.

“Good?” You repeated softly.

Rin approached you with his shirt halfway undone. He stopped just in front of you, leaning down with an expression so intimidating it sent shivers sprinting down your spine. “Do you know why I chose someone as lowly and pathetic as you, peasant?”

You rubbed your clammy palms together and paused. “I think I might have an idea,” You whispered.

“Oh? Continue.”

“You want to win the public’s favour, perhaps?” you guessed carefully, “because it shows a connection to those of lower status…”

He raised a brow, “Hm. You’re smarter than you look.” He admitted.

But his next words made your blood run cold. His hands found your shoulders, his fingers gripping onto them with not much force as he leaned closer. Your gaze ashamedly darted down to his peeking sculpted chest before flicking up to his eyes.

“After I’ve become emperor instead of that shitty brother,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “you will bear my child. Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Your whole body was trembling as soon as his hands left your shoulders. You could feel your teeth clattering slightly as you stared at the floor, unable to speak. You tilted your head up and watched as he slowly slid off an oval-cut sapphire ring, rimmed with shimmering stones of diamond, from his finger.

“Give me your hand,” He ordered impatiently.

You nodded immediately, extending your hand in front of him with starry eyes. Without a word, he slipped the opulent band onto your ring finger, careful not to make contact with your skin. You pulled away and admired the accessory— you’d be set for a thousand lives if you sold this heavy thing.

“Thank you…” You smiled softly.

“This ring is a royal heirloom, along with one other,” He warned, pointing to the Crest engraved in the gemstone. “Do. Not. Lose. It.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the ring, nodding quickly, “Yes… I won’t.”

“Good. Now go. The maids will show you to your chambers. Be ready for your etiquette lessons tomorrow.”

You rose from the sofa shakily, bowing once more. The difference between this man and the one you’d met earlier was staggering, and you already had a not so vague idea on who you preferred.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Your Imperial Highness.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to open them. You blinked once, twice, three times– your vision blurred with remnants of sleep before gradually sharpening into clarity. But what you saw around you was anything but familiar. 

Gone were the days of waking up to dusty cobwebs and the cracks and crevices of a wrecked ceiling that you had grown used to. Instead, your eyes met a vast, polished quartz ceiling, glistening in the morning light. Above you was a fancy chandelier, its long golden-framed vines dripping with crystals, and glass trickled down from the hooks. 

You shifted beneath your plush cover and froze for a second, because this soft sensation was just as unfamiliar. No more prickly stacks of straw or thin, rough blankets. No, today, you had woken up in luxury.

As you sat up, memories of yesterday flooded your mind. Oh, right. You were absolutely shocked when you were first led to your room. You could say you were floored by its elegance– far larger and more lavish than any room you had imagined you’d get. Though it still paled in comparison to Rin’s personal quarters, it was hard to grasp that this space was your room.

You remembered indulging yourself in a little tour last night, exploring it in awe. There was a massive walk-in closet, filled to the brim with fine dresses and gowns of rich silks and satins. Accessories like cocktail hats, jewel-studded heels, and purses of gorgeous colours, all of which you couldn’t wait to try, filled the shelves.

The grandest thing you had ever owned prior to this was a ring made of a flower’s stem.

But as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Your heart jumped as you realized someone was in the room, and you let out a small squeak, instinctively clutching the covers.

“So you’ve finally woken up, my lady,” came a gentle, slightly amused voice.

You blinked rapidly, your gaze locking onto a pair of soft amethyst eyes. The young woman standing beside you had ginger hair that fell to her shoulders in soft curls, her pale cheeks peppered with specks of pretty freckles.

“W-Who are you…?” You asked carefully.

The woman set a pair of fluffy cotton slippers on the floor beside your bed, then gave you a small curtsy. “Eleanor, my lady. I am your lady-in-waiting.”

You slid your feet into the slippers, still feeling a little dazed. Eleanor busied herself with smoothing the bed linens as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Meaning..?” you echoed, sitting up straighter.

She chuckled lightly. “Meaning I’ll attend to your personal needs and assist you with your duties to make sure you are well taken care of.” She gave you a smile, “You’re new to all this, aren’t you?”

You looked down at the marble bashfully, nodding your head, and admitted softly, “Yes…”

“Haha, that’s quite alright. But let’s not waste anymore time! We have to get you ready for today!”

“... Huh?”

You were absolutely pampered.

The question constantly lingered— what had you done to deserve this? Probably nothing but you were thankful that you went in the stead of your older sister.

Just a short while ago, you had been treated to the greatest bath of your life, courtesy of Eleanor. She had insisted it was part of her duty as your lady-in-waiting, but it seriously felt like a ritual reserved for queens. She skillfully massaged your muscles and rubbed your scalp with rosewater serenade. And when her hands worked authentic vanilla lather across your skin, you smelled like a warm, freshly baked biscuit. An upgrade from your baths in the river.

Currently, you were seated on a leathered stool as Eleanor combed through your hair with care. The reflection in the mirror in front could leave you gushing over yourself for hours. Your gown was a waterfall of midnight blue silk with intricate silver embroidery. Your waist was still uncomfortable from the pressure of the tight corset, but the result was definitely worth it. 

A delicate web of pearls hung from around your neck, cool against your collarbone. You absentmindedly toyed with the silver tassel earrings as Eleanor finished adding the final sprinkle of silver glitter to your styled hair.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady!” She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together to dust off the excess shimmer.

You smiled admiringly, turning your head left and right. “Thank you, Eleanor. I never thought I could look like this...”

You stood from the stool, walking towards the door before her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait, my lady!”

You turned, watching as she carefully presented a delicate box etched with faint leaf patterns. Nestled inside were a pristine pair of white fine lace gloves that were long enough to elegantly reach the elbows. 

“His Imperial Highness the Second Prince has ordered that you must wear these whenever you are with him,” She said quietly.

“Ah. Thanks.”

You understood. It was slightly disappointing that your fiancé would go to such lengths to avoid touching you. Was the prospect of touching you truly that distasteful to him? But you shrugged off the thought and removed your heirloom ring before sliding the gloves on. You put back the ring on top. It wasn’t everyday you got to wear something this refined. Perhaps it would be everyday from now on…

But then, the memory of Rin’s chilling words echoed through your mind. “Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Your heart clenched and you shook your head. As long as you did as commanded, you were sure you’d be fine.

“Let’s go, Eleanor.”

Your body tensed under the penetrating gazes of the countless servants. Their stares followed you as you walked down the Main Hall of the right wing, heading towards the heart of the palace.

They weren’t even trying to hide their gossip. Why would they? Servants here were no ordinary peasants, they were people of the lowest class of nobility. Sons and daughters of Earls, Counts, Barons.

“His Highness must be smitten,” one maid said, “Just look at her dress!”

“Isn’t she from the slums?”

“And she wears the Royal Heirloom on her finger!”

“So, the rumours were true, then?”

“I heard she thought she'd be marrying the Crown Prince.”

“Pftt, That’s embarrassing.”

The hushed whispers suddenly quieted down to zero, and you assumed it was probably Eleanor’s doing because you could literally feel her piercing gaze though she was trailing respectfully behind you.

“It’s alright, Eleanor, leave them al—”

The words died in your throat the moment you caught sight of him– the man you first encountered when you arrived at the palace. He was exiting the Council Hall, deep in conversation with what looked like an advisor or high-ranking official. Your heart skipped a beat as you instinctively lifted the hem of your dress and rushed towards him.

“Your Highness!” you called out, your voice chirpier than you had intended.

He turned at the sound of your familiar voice, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise. For a fleeting moment, it seemed you had embodied the grace of a princess… had your heel not caught beneath you. You stumbled, eyes squeezing shut as you braced yourself for the fall. But instead of tasting the cold, hard floor, a pair of strong hands caught you, steadying you by your waist.

“Careful,” he warned softly, his hands lingering for just a moment before falling back to his sides. “You’re not used to heels.”

You laughed awkwardly, but you could not hide the disappointment that washed over your expression as his hands left you. “No, it’s my first time.”

He paused. His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer than they should, taking in the way your dress perfectly complimented your figure. But he realized this, and his gaze quickly shifted to the golden deer emblem mounted on the wall.

“You… look different,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck.

The hall suddenly felt hot, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from your face. You dipped your head, fiddling with your clad fingers. “Oh, do I…?” you sputtered softly, but you silently cursed yourself for replying in such an awkward manner. Of course you looked different!

“Ahem,” Eleanor chimed in, coughing into her fist dramatically. “Not to interrupt, but I hear some alarming footsteps…”

“If you slack off one more fucking time, I’ll display your decapitated head on a pike to serve as an example for your pathetic kind!” a voice yelled from behind.

Rin stepped out the Council Hall, his face an angry scowl as he finished lashing at the minister who scurried away like a frightened animal. His eyes then flickered towards you and his older brother, and his expression soured further.

He turned to look at your lady-in-waiting, speaking sternly. “I thought I told you to bring her to my study,”

“We were on our way, Your Imperial Highness,” Eleanor responded politely, bowing her head.

“Incompetent.”

Rin’s attention shifted to you, noticing the lacey white covering up to your elbows. Without warning, he inched forward and closed the distance between you, his hand snaking around your waist. You tensed as his not unwelcome grip pulled you closer, your palm instinctively flying up to settle on his chest. You looked up at him gently, hesitantly, but his eyes weren’t on you– they were locked on his older brother.

He eyed his brother suspiciously, “What are you still doing here?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your trip to Berlina?” 

“Berlina…?” You repeated in confusion.

“The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic,” Eleanor quickly whispered into your ear, leaning in with her palm covering her mouth.

Sae’s expression remained indifferent, clearly unbothered. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on more important matters right now?” He let his eyes wander lazily towards your hand on Rin’s chest before he smirked. “Like… sharpening your embarrassingly inadequate swordsmanship skills?”

Rin’s face contorted in anger and his neck flushed a deep red. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to make you wince. “You bastard… You’ll regret this.” He seethed through clenched teeth. 

The Second Prince glanced back at Eleanor in disgust, “You’re dismissed.”

He looked back at you, noticing your extravagant dress, before furrowing his brows. “The dress you’re wearing is too fancy for a day with no important occasion.”

You glanced down at your blue gown and shrugged. “Eleanor chose it for me,”

“Who?”

“—I personally think it suits her just right.” Sae broke in suddenly, wearing a smirk on his face as though he found pleasure in annoying his younger brother.

Rin narrowed his eyes at him. “Who asked for your opinion? And what were you two talking about, anyway?”

The Crown Prince hummed, leaning against the wall behind him. “Let’s see. Well, I told her she looked different, and helped her up when she tripped on her heels.”

“Tch.”

“But be careful,” Sae’s lips twitched into a small grin, his gaze drifting to meet your eyes. “keep your eyes on this beauty else I might steal her from you. Isn’t that right, my lady?”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Your Highness, even if you joke around like that, I don’t think my heart can take it–” you whispered, and Sae chuckled lightly, though Rin quickly pulled you behind him.

“That’s enough, stay away from her.” He glared, barely affecting Sae. “Your little jokes aren’t funny.”

“Who said I was joking?” The eldest quipped nonchalantly, and Rin just rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go.” He exasperated, holding onto your wrist and dragging you alongside him.

As his hand guided you away, you looked over your shoulder, searching for a familiar pair of tourmaline eyes. Ones identical to those of your fiancé’s. But instead, all you saw was a broad back and auburn hair shifting as he walked away in the opposite direction.

Rin slammed his fist against the hardwood of his desk. That interaction seemed to have spilled gasoline to the blue flames in his eyes, which were already burning with rage. “That bastard thinks he can keep playing games with me!”

You remained still, hands folded patiently over your abdomen. The last thing you wanted to do was provoke him further.

After a tense silence, Rin let out a sigh and collapsed into the plush seat behind his desk. “It’s alright,” he began, his voice softening just slightly. His gaze locked onto you in a way that made blood rush quicker through your veins. “You’re my ticket to becoming the emperor—” He leaned forward. “I need you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at those words, but you knew not to expect much. Still, you mustered a sweet smile. “I’ll do my best, Your Highness. You were mentioning today’s schedule…?”

He leaned back, propping his arm on the armrest. “Right. My father is holding our engagement ball next week. Every noble house will be there to congratulate us. In the week leading up to it, you will perfect your manners and court etiquette. Understood?”

You gulped hard as a huge bag of responsibility was suddenly thrown onto your back. A week? To not work on, but perfect everything?

“...Understood.”

—

“... After you master public speaking skills,” Rin went on, “you’ll focus on formal dining etiquette. I don’t want you embarrassing me by eating with your hands. Then, you’ll have dancing lessons and study Royal Dress standards. You also need to be familiar with Aquaria’s history, diplomacy, and customs– especially royal protocols and responsibilities, and….”

His voice continued on, listing task after task. Your head was spinning, and you thought you were going to faint and collapse to the ground. This wasn’t the fairytale you’d imagined. You signed up for the fun part of being a princess— the ballgowns and the makeup, and maybe kissing the prince. This was a chore, the kind that made growing carrots and potatoes seem like heaven in comparison.

“By the end of this week, I expect you to be flawless. I’ve brought in the best tutors for reading, writing, and everything else– all that easy stuff. Do not disappoint me.”

You nodded automatically, but not before adding an innocent thought that had slipped into your mind, in a slightly sarcastic manner. “Have you perfected your swordplay, though?”

Now the temperature in the room seemed to drop down to zero as he bore his narrowed eyes at you. You felt a cold shiver run up all your bones, and your knees weakened. “You think you’re funny don’t you? Do you really want to play this game with me?”

Your bravado crumbled. “N-No…”

“Then get some rest,” he ordered. “Your training starts this afternoon.”

You nodded and quietly turned to leave the study.

Six long days had passed by since your lessons began. Six mentally and physically exhausting days.

Your dance instructor was a strict middle aged lady with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, who worked you till your feet were bruised. She made you balance books and vases on top of your head as you marched back and forth, her shrill voice cutting you off whenever your posture was horrible, or when you mixed up the steps for a dance made for another song. Although you loathed her guts, you couldn’t deny the significant improvement of your poise.

The dinner etiquette lessons, however, offered a time-out from that hag. Yes, you learned the basics of formal dining– how to keep your elbows off the table, chew with your mouth closed, use the silver utensils correctly, and pat your lips clean with the patterned napkins. But, the best part, or reward, was tasting the delicacies they served. Truffles, lobster coated with butter, and tender lamb chops. And then there were the fancy desserts– macarons pumped with ganache filling, puff pastry, tartelette au citron, éclair au chocolat, and more.

All of which you had never dreamt of tasting in your life, you who had never tasted anything more luxurious than a loaf of bread.

You also learned how to read and write, not for the reasons you preferred, but good nonetheless. You had found a particular fondness for the history lessons, which were not tedious at all. You were focused at all times much to your mentor’s surprise. Learning about the Royal family’s reign— how they had ruled over neighboring lands for centuries, managing resources, trade, and finance— fascinated you.

But your ears always managed to tune in and pick up the subtle gossip rotating among the maids and servants in the halls and libraries, so you had learned a few things.

The two princes were locked in a one-sided rivalry. One was fighting crystal and pickaxe for the crown, while the true heir showed little interest in the throne he was destined to inherit.

Sae, the eldest, wasn’t just entitled to the crown by birthright. He excelled at everything– swordplay, defense, archery, and horseback riding for royal ceremonies or simple trips to cities. His skills were polished to literal perfection. Rin, on the other hand, was skilled, but not extraordinary. He always lived in the shadow of his brother.

Yet Rin’s desire to become emperor wasn’t merely a wish— it was a burning, desperate need, an ambition to prove himself worthy. To finally win against Sae.

Killing his brother, of course, was out of the question— such an act would be treason. Besides, Rin didn’t just want him gone; he wanted Sae to see the moment when he ascended the throne, to admit defeat, to acknowledge that Rin had bested him.

Rin believed that the key to winning favour with their father—the current emperor—and the people was to flaunt his achievements, which, to remention, were not as good as Sae’s. But his sharp tongue and cold demeanor made it difficult for him to win many hearts. Sae learned to place a mask behind his foul words, whereas Rin still struggled to.

And that’s where you came into the picture.

You weren’t just his fiancée; you were part of his strategy. He’ll show you off before the court and the public, showcasing to the world how he transformed a mere commoner, a peasant, into someone of worth. 

You came from a disgusting, needy village, yet now you stood in royal fits. To Rin, you were a symbol showing his ability to elevate those beneath him. A tool to gain the favour of the people. You could read and write now, you were beautiful, and in the eyes of the kingdom, you had the potential to become the empress one day— if, of course, Rin managed to seize the crown from his brother.

—

It was late at night, and the moon’s natural light filtered through your curtains. You moved to your huge window and brushed aside the rosegold-embroidered fabric as you peered down at the Royal Gardens. The view was similar to that of Rin’s, since your chambers were three spare rooms away from each other.

You were exhausted, but you always had time to admire the water spilling down elegantly from the angel sculptures’ stone lips, or the beautiful shrubs clipped into topiaries. 

But all the exhaustion you felt moments ago suddenly vanished when your eyes caught sight of someone unexpected. 

It was the Crown Prince. You had seen Sae around the palace during these tiring six days, and you’ve engaged in many small talks with him without Rin’s knowledge. Conversations flew naturally with him, he asked you about your life before the engagement, and though you were initially hesitant, you found yourself speaking openly with him. There was a strange ease to Sae that, oddly enough, only you seemed to feel.

You stared at him a bit too long, your gaze almost boring a hole into him, and he sensed it.

Pivoting on his heel, he made direct eye contact with you from below. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you hurriedly pulled the curtain closed. But he could still see your silhouette, and when you peeked your head out slightly from the curtain, you could’ve sworn you’d seen him chuckle.

With a quick gesture of his hand, he beckoned you down to the gardens. Your pretty eyes widened, but you found yourself nodding eagerly with no hesitation. How could you refuse?

—

Panting softly between giggles, you rested your hands on your knees.

“I can’t believe you ran to meet me in your… nightgown,” Sae remarked, his lips curving into a subtle smirk.

You straightened and boldly stepped closer until you were only centimeters away from him. Your eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and you shone a smile brighter than la lune. 

Sae’s breath caught in his throat as your face came full view and he felt his body still. You were Rin’s fiancée– he shouldn't be looking at you like this. But the glow of moonlight was making it hard…

“... You’re beautiful,” the words slipped out naturally.

Heat flooded the sweet curves of your cheeks at the way he said it so casually, so suddenly. Your gaze dropped to the freshly cut grass, your fingers nervously tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. 

“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, your voice barely above a hush.

Silence followed. But comfortable, nonetheless. Then, you noticed his hand, palm up and waiting in front of you. You blinked up at him in confusion.

“I am aware that I am in no position to do this, but…” He paused, “May I have this dance?”

Your eyebrows shot up comically in surprise, glistening doe eyes widening for the hundredth time tonight. Your heart was thumping so fast you thought it might burst from your chest, and you feared he might hear it.

It was risky, you knew that. If Rin were awake, he might have been watching from his window– his chambers were so close to yours. You knew how much he enjoyed looking from his window from the time you’ve spent together in the past week. But, he had dismissed you earlier to rest and this moment alone with Sae was tempting.

Hesitantly, your hand hovered over his before relaxing and letting it fall in his grasp. You met his gaze, and you shyly whispered, 

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this… but I want to.” Your fingers intertwined with his, and you smiled softly. “May I have this honour, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince?”

Sae glanced down at your hand weaved between his fingers. His brows furrowed in a frown, and a wave of panic washed over you. You literally felt your heart leap out of your chest. Had you overstepped your boundaries?

“I was only kidd—”

But instead of pulling away, he gently hooked his finger under the wristband of your glove, sliding it off your hand. You felt warmth bloom across your cheeks as he slowly removed the other glove too, making sure to leave his touch lingering on your bare skin.

“You don’t need to wear these ridiculous gloves to bed,” he said, “It’s unnecessary.”

Your cœur fluttered. “I… I just forgot,” you mumbled, embarrassed. 

He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile as he clasped your now bare hand, while the other found its place on your waist. The fabric of your silk nightgown was thin, and his touch felt intimate, direct, and you could feel his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin.

He led you in a slow dance gracefully under the protective gaze of the serene moon, delicately spinning you before your arms naturally draped around his neck. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. He looked so good, he smelled so good, his touch so gentle. You wanted him.

“Do you like these gardens?” He asked suddenly, giving you another twirl.

You nodded, lacing your fingers in his. “I do. It’s quiet. The palace can be… overwhelming.”

Sae raised a brow, “Overwhelming, huh? For someone like you, I suppose it would be.”

The words stung slightly, but there was no malice in his voice. You dared to meet the eyes you came to adore, “And you? Why are you here, Your Highness?”

He paused, then turned slightly. “I’m avoiding another council meeting. You’d be surprised how tedious it can be listening to old men argue for hours on end.”

You laughed softly, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. He pointed toward a part of the garden in the distance. “Come with me,” he said simply. 

You followed, trembling as the Crown Prince led you with his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. When you came to a stop, your breath caught in awe. Before you were roses of every shade– deep crimson, soft peach, porcelain white, and candy pink.

“They’re gorgeous,” you gasped.

“Right.” Sae bent down and plucked a single red rose from the bush, turning to you with a small, rare smile. “The red ones are my favorite,” he murmured, carefully tucking the rose into your hair.

You smiled sheepishly, gently patting the rose he’d placed. “They remind me of strawberry ja—”

“They remind me of blood,” he interrupted with a casual voice.

You blinked, startled by his answer. “R-Right.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the area around his neck. “I can see why Rin chose you.”

You looked at him for a few seconds before quickly shaking your head. “He didn’t choose me, he just wanted any girl from our clan. My older sister was supposed to go, but I went in her stead. Besides, I’m nothing special… just convenient.”

“Convenient?” His gaze darkened slightly before his hand came up to rest on your chin. “...Don’t sell yourself short. You’re more than that.”

Your head quickly tilted down and you began to fiddle with your fingers, then with the simple lace adorning your neck. “Your Highness– stop saying things that make my heart, I don’t know, hurt?”

“Oh?” He placed his hands gently on your cheeks and you looked up at him lovingly. “That isn’t good for Rin, is it?”

You shook your head, “No, it isn’t. But he doesn’t make me feel this way.” You boldly placed your palms on his shoulders and stood on your tippy toes, and as soon as he leaned down slightly in approval, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He tapped his forehead against yours and smiled. His heart was beating a bit quicker, and he found it dangerous. “Well, I’m afraid I must leave now.” He drawled.

Your heart sank a little, your ethereal eyes flicking down. You nodded slowly, “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”

He looked down at you, his expression softening. Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”

If he couldn’t hear your heart thundering in your chest one thousand miles per hour moments ago, then he sure could now. As he disappeared, you placed your hand over your chest, rubbing over the spot where he’d kissed.

It seemed like Sae had yet again bested Rin in a game neither had realized they were playing.

Tonight was your engagement ball, the grand celebration that would officially announce your impending marriage to Rin.

You were both in his chamber, dressed fully in fancy outfits. He wore an elegant white attire adorned with the brooch of Aquaria and a navy blue sash draped across his chest. You wore a pitch black gown embroidered with gold, matching gloves, and heavy golden jewelry that Rin had exclusively bought for you. 

The party had already begun downstairs, the grand ballroom filled with the most important guests from across the empire. But the grand entrance of the soon-to-be bride and groom had to wait for the Emperor’s speech, set to occur an hour after the festivities commenced.

“It’s a lunar eclipse,” you mused admiringly, leaning against the window. The moon, bloody red from the umbra, hung in the night sky ominously. “I’ve read about the phenomenon in the Royal Library. The stars look so close… they look like they could fall right into our hands.”

Rin rolled his eyes and walked closer to you, resting his hand on your further shoulder. He stared out the window in boredom. “How poetic,” he muttered sarcastically. “Even the moon is congratulating us tonight.”

You turned your gaze from the sky to him, your hand gently smoothing out a small wrinkle on his sash. “It’s time, isn’t it? We should head to the Ballroom.”

He grumbled in response, pushing your hand aside as if your touch was unnecessary. 

The intricate grandfather clock suddenly chimed loudly. Midnight had arrived.

Tick.

“In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon…”

Tick.

“When Stars Align and Shadows Loom…”

Tick.

A strange voice seemed to rise from nowhere. You flinched visibly, a shiver creeping up your spine as the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You quickly found Rin’s hand and grasped it tightly. 

“D-Did you hear that?” You shuddered, voice trembling.

He raised an eyebrow. “Hear what? You’re imagining things.”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No… I swear, I heard something– like a voice. It was…”

He scoffed, shaking his head dismissively. “It’s just the clock ticking. Don’t start getting all nervous on me now.” His grip tightened around your hand, but you doubted it was for your comfort. “You’re going to be on your best performance for me, Got it?”

You hesitantly nodded, your gaze lingering on the moon for a few more seconds. The red, eerie glow still haunted your thoughts. You reluctantly turned away, looping your arm through Rin’s to exit the chamber and enter the grandeur.

“Yes…”

“And I want to thank you all once more for attending tonight’s ball,” The Emperor’s proclamation boomed from behind the closed doors. The attention of every soul present was on him. “I would now like to announce the formal entry of The Second Prince of Aquaria, and his fiancée, a soon-to-be princess, Y/N!”

The large doors, decorated with orchids and bloody red roses, parted dramatically to reveal you and Rin hand in hand. The Royal Guards on each side immediately stiffened and raised gloved hands to their head in salute. 

The aristocrats hushed immediately and their eyes followed as you both stepped onto the red carpet, descending the grand staircase and heading towards the two thrones.

You halted just below the steps of the thrones, immediately lowering your head in a bow of respect alongside Rin.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesties,” you murmured, lifting your head as you learned to.

“... Thank you, Father, Mother,” Rin’s voice followed formally.

Your gaze shifted towards the Empress. You particularly loved her as her lovely crimson hair always seemed to remind you of Sae. Oh, speaking of the Crown Prince, where was he? You hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet. 

You turned your head, eyes subtly scanning the room in search of a distinct redhead. And in the corner of your eye, you found him leaning casually against a balcony pillar, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed.

Your gaze softened at the sight of him before refocusing on the mob of aristocratic ladies and noblemen that had rushed to circle your betrothed as soon as the Imperial Greetings were over. They approached and offered smiles under snobby and vexing expressions, backhanded compliments under the guise of praise.

“Such a refreshing choice, Your Imperial Highness!” A brunette lady gibed, fanning herself with an elegant fan as she slyly smirked, “You’ve truly outdone us all in… originality.”

A Lord chuckled beside her, his laugh insufferably pompous. “I must say, Your Highness, I certainly admire you embracing such humble roots! A prince of the people! Ho ho ho!”

“I’m glad we have such a reliable prince who values all his subjects equally!”

“It is odd that His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince hasn’t found a lady yet.” One brought up.

An Earl added, “That’s true. He’s supposed to step up to the throne sooner or later. He needs an heir once he becomes Emperor.”

You squeezed Rin’s hand discreetly as he bit his lip in frustration at the mention of his brother. He needed to restrain himself at least this one time. 

“I appreciate your sentiments–” he began, but faltered for a split second. “No I fucking don—” You squeezed his hand again, giving him a gentle nudge, and he cleared his throat. “Your support is reassuring,” he finished with a strained smile.

As your fiancé continued chatting with the backhanded nobles, your attention kept drifting towards Sae, stealing quick glances every now and then. He had begun conversing with a group of higher officials and ministers, likely discussing Berlina, The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic that he had frequented many times to strengthen the Empire’s growing alliances.

Loud enchanting music began to play from the orchestra and many already established couples began to dance in the center. Expensive and rare gifts began to pile at your feet, congratulatory offerings from various guests. Rin accepted them indifferently and reluctantly offered his thanks with as much enthusiasm as the stone sculptures that lined the ballroom.

“This jewel was found in the Ancient land of Topion and is thought to bring good fortune!”

“This exotic bird from Elakis produces gold everytime it sings!”

“This sword is forged by a legendary ghost smith whose body lives in the volcanic depths of Loo!”

You froze when Sae stepped forward as the next gifter, and it seemed like the entire room was also holding its breath. He approached, your widened eyes drifting down to the elegant box in his hand. He opened it, revealing an intricate necklace with shimmering, round pearls.

“An authentic pearl necklace crafted by the Merman Emperor of Eau.” Sae presented with his usual calm demeanor, making it hard to believe that he had spent days negotiating with the merman to create a necklace exclusively suitable for you.

Your mouth parted in surprise, and the words tumbled out. “Oh– thank you! It’s… beautiful.”

Rin rolled his eyes, gently fisting your hair and lifting it to expose your neck. “You didn’t have to do that,” He hissed through gritted teeth, looking at Sae with teal eyes that crinkled in hate.

Sae met his brother’s glare with a simple hum, fastening the beaded necklace around your neck. You bit your lip tightly as his touch lingered on your skin, looking down at the pearls that beautifully settled against your collarbone. “That would be disrespectful to you both, I’m afraid,” He said. “Even Our Father, the Emperor, has offered her pleasantries.”

Rin clicked his tongue and looked back at you, wrapping his arm possessively around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, catching you by surprise. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes at the gesture.

“Come on, darling,” Rin emphasized as he spat out the term of endearment, though he internally cringed and wanted the ballroom to rupture and swallow him whole. The pet name left a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue. “It’s time for our dance.”

You nodded, your lips parting to speak, but, “Of course, Your High—”

“The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night…”

That haunting voice again. Your ears were ringing. You quickly squeezed your eyes shut and froze in your tracks.

“...By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.”

“I-It’s the voice again!” You whimpered, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sound. “I hear it!”

Rin scoffed loudly, glancing left and right at the guests who were exchanging confused looks. Sae, on the other hand, seemed out of it, with half-closed, bleary eyes.

“Quit it, you fool!” Rin cursed in annoyance, his patience snapping. He grabbed you by your shoulders and yanked you to his chest away from their judgemental gazes.

“Voice? I don’t hear anything,” a lady whispered.

“Neither do I,” someone else chimed in.

A voice snickered, “She said ‘again’.”

“His Imperial Highness must be marrying someone with auditory hallucinations.” The words stung as they left another noble’s mouth.

Then, in an instant, the ballroom plunged into darkness as the bright chandeliers went out. The ballroom was only illuminated by the glow of a large bolt of lightning, and a thunder rattled so violently it deafened you and shook the windows. When the bulbs flickered back on, a shrill lady’s voice pierced the silent room.

“T-The Crown Prince! He’s not moving!”

All eyes shot to Sae, who lay motionless and graceful on the floor, hand on top of hand. He looked calm, as though he was merely resting. 

You gasped in fear, hands flying to your mouth as you tried to stay balanced on your feet. Rin’s eyes in particular were the widest. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted to terror as everyone noticed the ink-blue vines creeping slowly up his neck, thorn designs wrapping themselves around his throat.

“T-That’s… Alexis’ Curse!” The Emperor panicked.

You had read about it. Alexis’ Curse—an ancient legend of a wizard scorned by love. His heart had been shattered by the daughter of a shoemaker, Michelle Kaiser, who had chosen her Earl lover over him. She always refused Alexis’ advances, and the gifts he’d always present. 

Enraged, Alexis had cursed the Earl, condemning him to a fate of eternal sleep unless the one he loved kissed him to break the spell. The curse wasn't one of eternal youth, however—the body continued to age, to decay, until there was nothing left but ugly bones. 

But because Alexis had disposed of his inked body in his tower, the Earl had died alone, Michelle never finding him.

The curse had become a myth, that Alexis’ wrath was aimed at those of high status, warning them of the dangers of meddling with those beneath them. 

But the nobles’ faces were literally drained of colour because what had once been myth was now terrifyingly real, before their very eyes.

It had been a few weeks since the disaster during your engagement party.

They had sealed Sae’s lifeless body deep in a chamber within the Main Palace’s basement. You attempted sneaking in multiple times, but you failed– the entry was heavily guarded and there was too much risk. And besides, if slipping past your lady-in-waiting wasn’t hard enough, Rin had become increasingly possessive as the possibility of being promoted to Crown Prince rose. That is if he was elected as so in the Royal Committee Meeting.

He was proud enough that he’d permit small acts of closeness– letting you remove your gloves when in his presence, even sharing his chamber. So, you would never risk waking him up while trying to sneak into the basement.

You recalled the aftermath of the disastrous ball vividly:

—

“I never knew he was so pathetic,” Rin sneered that night, running a hand through his dark hair before resting it at your throat and squeezing lightly. “Falling in love with you? A commoner? He must be out of his mind.”

He chuckled as he released you, pulling you into his chest.

“The whole Empire is so stupid. They think he fell in love with someone else. But it’s better this way.”

—

Yet despite Rin’s actions, your thoughts remained with Sae. You’d spent the weeks caring for Celestia, his white mare, as well as tending to Rin’s black stallion which he had never bothered to give a name to. You learned from the stable workers that Celestia was the mother of the charcoal horse.

Tonight, however, a once in a red moon opportunity presented itself. Your fiancé was away on royal business in Yelund, negotiating financial matters with their government in place of the Crown Prince. You took this chance, knowing it was the only one, and decided to sneak out.

You left your chamber, clutching a cage with a rat you’d found in the servants residence. You made your way through the darkened corridors until you reached the entrance of the basement. You hid yourself behind a large stone pillar and took a deep breath, tossing a small block of cheese across the room as a distraction. 

The guards were alarmed by the subtle noise and quickly whipped their heads and ran towards the sound. You bit your lip in concentration— everything was going according to your plan. You quickly released the rat from its cage, watching it scurry across the concrete, and silently slipped into the Royal basement. You sighed in relief as you heard a guard's voice.

“Oh, it’s just a rat. Guards, get back into position.”

—

You slid off your heels so that your bare feet barely made a sound as they grazed the stone steps of the staircase. The basement wasn’t very illuminated if not for the dim candles that hung on the wall, and the stench was not horrible as you thought it would be. Instead, it smelled like preserved jasmine.

You were at the last step when you put your hand on the concrete wall, trying to catch your breath.

At the bottom, in the center of the relatively smaller room, stood a rectangular crystal glass box. Inside it, Sae lay perfectly still. The sight of him made your gaze soften and your heart clench as if it was put in a meat slicer. His skin was pale, but it was bolded, in contrast, by the inky blue vines tracing thorn and rose patterns across his body. 

His cheeks and ears were faintly flushed by a baby pink dust, and his lips looked so soft, so gentle, so inviting. Stray strands of his red hair lay on the cushion beneath him, his long lashes resting against his cheekbones.

You were aching as you approached the enclosure. Your fingers trembled as you pressed them to the glass, your breath slightly fogging the surface. Tears blurred your vision as they began to roll down your cheeks, and you leaned down to gently caress his cheek with your bare hand, feeling the coolness of his skin.

You sniffled and your palms went to rub your glossy eyes, before you straightened up and curled your fingers on the glass in a tight grip. He looked beautiful, you thought, with roses that matched his hair colour surrounding him all over.

“Your Imperial Highn— no, Sae—” you whispered, “I… I love you, too.”

You cupped his face with quivering hands, your thumbs rubbing sweet circles on his skin as you contorted your body awkwardly to reach him. The glass was positioned high, at your waist’s level, so you had to twist your body and bend to touch him intimately.

Sae remained unmoving, yet you had hoped that somewhere deep within his slumber, he could sense your touch, or the sincerity of your unsteady voice confessing your reciprocated love.

As you leaned in to kiss him, that same sharp voice that you always hear yet again cut through your ears, and you instinctively covered them with your hands for protection.

“But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,”

Your heart thumped faster in your chest as you tried to shake it off.

“Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,”

Beads of cold sweat trickled down your temple— you could never get used to the voice, no matter how many times you’d heard it.

“With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,”

Your hands fisted at the cotton under Sae, inhaling deeply before bending down until your face was inches away from his.

“To Bring the Order, End the Storm.”

Your lips hesitantly hovered over his mouth before you fluttered your eyes shut and pressed them against his in a kiss. Your lips together were so soft, yet they weren’t moving against each other like a mutual kiss would. They locked seamlessly in a way that felt strangely natural, as if the pair were made for each other. 

Your lips lingered against his for a few seconds, and you wanted to relish the moment more, but you felt a subtle shift in Sae’s body. A faint flinch, almost imperceptible, ran through him, and the blue roses on his skin suddenly began to glow.

You pulled back before you could fully comprehend what was even happening, your lips just brushing his as you turned and sprinted towards the stairs. Fortunately, the guards on duty were in the midst of a shift exchange, so you assumed you had gone off flawlessly.

But not entirely.

A certain awakened man had caught a glimpse of your hair as it bounced during your escape.

The first light of morning stabbed your eyes, and they fluttered open abruptly as you realized Rin’s hands were on your shoulders, shaking you harshly. His face was itched in a deep scowl, his breath hot against your skin.

“What the fuck is all this about? This is what I come back to, you fucking whore?” He fumed venomously.

You blinked in confusion– your head was still fogged with sleep, after all. 

“W-What..?”

—

The usual tranquility of the whole palace was broken by hurried, squeaky footsteps and frantic voices. News of the Crown Prince’s revival had spread like wildfire through the Royal Quarters: the sleeping prince had defeated the curse and had awakened after only a few mere weeks.

The servants and maids rushed through the hallways, scrambling to prepare for what would be an unexpected audience. Gossips and rumours flowed through every corridor of the palace faster than the head maid brewing herbal tea in preparation for noble guests.

And in the Royal Gardens outside, hundreds to near thousands of noblemen and noblewomen who were alerted of the Sae’s revival gathered, dressed in their finest dresses and suits. 

Oh, you were so fucked.

—

“M-My lady, this isn’t good!” Eleanor cried as she ran into your room, “Hundreds of guests have arrived in the Throne room, and both princes are there too! His Imperial Majesty is now urgently awaiting your presence!”

Your hands instinctively wrapped around your abdomen, and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your body shook slightly, your teary eyes fixing themselves on the ground. You loved Sae, you really did, but doubt was gnawing at your organs. Kissing him felt right in that moment, yet you were starting to regret ever doing it. 

What if he didn’t want your help? What if your peasant lips had tainted him? What if he didn’t want you?

“I… I don’t want to go,” you hiccuped, walking around your room in circles. “I’m so stupid, I should have never—”

“No, my lady,” She interrupted gently. “You must.”

You gulped and nodded hesitantly. Rin’s anger lingered in your mind like salt and pepper— his eyes were boiling over with rage, his face tinted a deep crimson red. You had never seen him like that, and now, as you stepped into the crowd gathered in the grand hall, all heads turned to look at you in a way that made you even more uncomfortable.

But the Emperor, however, did not seem angry. Weird enough, he looked elated for reasons you couldn’t yet pinpoint.

As Eleanor had said, Rin and Sae were both present, standing opposite each other like the rivals they were. Rin was struggling to contain the way he was absolutely fuming, while Sae was blatantly staring at you with no intention of hiding it. Unlike the way you usually reacted to the Crown Prince’s gaze, you felt rather nervous, flexing and unflexing your fingers.

You pinched the fabric of your simple gown and bowed low, and the thin patterns of the marble floor never seemed so interesting.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty,” you addressed. 

The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment, before turning his attention to Sae expectantly. “My son.”

“Yes, father.”

Before your wracked mind could process what was happening, Sae suddenly began striding toward you. Rin was a considerable distance away from you but he also furrowed his brows in confusion. A million thoughts started to run through his mind and he felt the unease creeping up his spine. Had they planned something behind his back?

Sae came to a stop in front of you, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt his arms, so muscular despite being under layers of hand-crafted clothing, loop around your waist and pull you close. Your face pressed against his chest, and your hands awkwardly hung near your sides despite being desperate to place themselves in places they’d beg to touch.

Loud gasps and surprised awes of the hundreds of uninvited, stunned guests echoed throughout the large room.

“Hey, what the heck–?” Rin suddenly snapped, biting down on his lip so hard that blood seeped out, the iron leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.

He didn’t like you, not really, but he had finally claimed something– someone that his older brother desired, and now it felt as though Sae was taking you from him. 

It irritated him to no end, the way Sae’s hand gently patted your hair and the way you sheepishly smiled into his suit like an idiot– who the heck did you think you were? How could you? How fucking dare you?

And more importantly, why was the Emperor fine with this? Why was he chuckling so carelessly akin to the circus’ fool? What was going on?

But your mind was already in Saturn. You were lost in the Crown Prince’s musky scent and the oh-so-delicate taps of his fingers on your head, and when you heard that voice again, you closed your eyes knowingly and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

“A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,”

“In the Embrace of a Simple Face.”

“Y/N.” Sae’s voice broke through your thoughts and the voices of gossip in the crowd died down instantly. He tilted your chin up gently, thumbs caressing your face sweetly before his hands found their place on your cheeks.

Your eyes darted left and right nervously, avoiding his gaze. He'd never called you by your first name before. You shook those thoughts away and met his gaze. “Yes…?”

“You know,” He started, “To break the curse, the feeling of love must be mutual…”

Your cradled head nodded in his hands in embarrassment, and you felt heat creep up from your neck to your ears. “I’m aware,”

“So?”

Your eyes widened and immediately snapped down to the floor, watching your simple heels shuffling softly. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped past your lips, and you only hoped that no one had heard that. You looked up at him affectionately.

“I love you…” Your voice dripped like melted caramel on his tongue, so sweet.

He smiled– a real, genuine smile that no one besides you could see– and leaned down, whispering an “I love you too,” before sealing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle, and you let out a soft sigh as your fingers curled onto the rich fabric, gripping onto his attire tightly. His lips were warm as they moved against yours, unlike the cold, unmoving lips that you had claimed a while back. 

When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, dazed with bleary eyes, little hearts seemingly etched into your pupils.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and maybe a few rolls of the eyes and glares from jealous noblewomen or daughters of Lords who had hoped to have Sae all to themselves, though you barely registered anything.

Why would anything matter, when you were here, openly in his arms?

“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince is in love with his soon-to-be sister-in-law? This is hot news!”

“The Second Prince didn’t love her anyway.”

“He didn’t? But was it really a marriage of convenience, then?”

“No way, he must have been in love. What’s there to gain from a commoner?”

“But what could a village girl like her possibly offer the Crown Prince?”

The Emperor suddenly rose from his golden throne and stepped down the carpeted stairs, standing in the center. He cleared his throat and raised his scepter high in the air.

“I, the Emperor of the Royal Empire of Aquaria, officially dissolve the engagement between Y/N and the Second Prince, and announce the engagement between her and the Crown Prince!”

Rin’s eyes twitched. His fists clenched tighter by his sides, knuckles white and nails digging deep into his palms. He felt humiliated in front of so many people, but it is said that what goes around comes around. 

“Huh? But Father, she's—” Rin began, but the Emperor turned his head and shot him a threatening glare. 

“Emperor’s order.” With a voice that sharp, there was no possible room for argument.

You also stood frozen, mouth hanging open in disbelief as you blinked at the Emperor in the distance. But Sae’s fingers tipped your chin back up and his lips latched onto yours in a bold, open-mouthed kiss.

“Look at me,” he murmured as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his breath warm against your skin.

Your breath hitched, your gaze locking onto his. “Your Highness… I can’t believe this is happening,” You whisper-yelled in excitement, your hands waving around uncertainly.

He gently poked your cheeks. “You’ll take my last name since you don’t have one.”

You pinched yourself to check if this was all just a dream. If it was, you didn’t want to wake up. But it was all too real. The Crown Prince was now your fiancé. You were going to be the Crown Princess, and eventually, the Empress. And you were going to take his last name because commoners do not have the privilege of family names.

And despite everything, you strangely felt no deep remorse. You had slightly opened up to and grown fond of Rin in the past few weeks– he had those moments, but with you in his brother’s arms right now, you felt something different. You felt bad, but at the same time you didn’t. It wasn’t guilt. It was more complicated, but in the end, you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t need to.

Rin stood in his spot motionless like a fallen angel’s statue, face hidden by a brush of his dark bangs. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his hands were clutching onto his pants like if he removed them hell would break loose.

His plan had backfired on him. Initially, he had chosen you, a commoner, as his fiancée to gain favour with the people, to appeal to the majority of Aquaria’s population, who were commoners themselves. It seemed like a strategic move at the time. His father, the Emperor, was known for his peculiar love for equality and would occasionally volunteer in villages, much to his dismay. Rin had believed marrying you would show his alignment with his father’s baffling… values, and would increase his chances of becoming the next ruler.

But no. His darn prodigy of a brother had bested him once again. Sae was better at everything: swordplay, horse riding, diplomacy, even winning nobles’ hearts. And now, his brother had not only fallen in love with his fiancée, a dumb commoner from the slums that he had chosen to boost his image, but also managed to make her fall heads over heels for him as well.

If that hadn’t infuriated him enough, he despised how his father wore that sickeningly proud smile on his face as he clapped his hands together, and how the couples were cheering and twirling like morons on the floor. While he stood stiff and awkward in the corner, insides seething in mixed emotions, hearing your stupid giggles and his brother’s irritatingly sweet reassurances of a better life with him. Sae had taken everything away from him, and it felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

But Rin hated his older brother, and he hated you too.

So on the night of your wedding, the chambermaid in your room let out a blood-curdling shriek, her face as pale as the moonlight that shone through the window. 

Cruel streaks of mulberry and plum bruises painted the delicate canvas of your neck. The once-pure white of your nightgown now blemished with spreading stains of deep cherryrose dye called blood, seeping through the fabric and into the silken sheets beneath. 

A severed porcelain horse’s head lay propped beside the body with vacant eyes, and scattered across the carpet were shattered remnants of a pearl necklace.

“But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,”

A dagger, its handle carved from true blue sapphire, was loosely wrapped between cold, limp fingers of a lifeless corpse sprawled across a river of red.

“For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.”

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[courtingchaos]

I’ve been thinking about eddie who’s in the early pre relationship stages with you. but in his mind he’s married to you he’s been pining after you for so long. he doesn’t want to scare you though so he’s pumping the breaks and trying to take things slow.

you’re spending the night at his and he’s managed to keep enough distance from you that he deems respectful in his courtship of you. but when he wakes it’s to your hand high on his thigh, and you’re out for the count. and he’s hard as a rock and needs to move you before you wake up and see what state he’s in.

not wanting to wake you and alert you to his issue he thinks on his feet and decides he has to become soft asap, then he can move you. then if you wake up it’s not going to be to him feeling like a complete pervert.

so he’s reciting his favourite passages from all of the books he’s read.

only it’s not doing much. the pretty girl in his bed is winning this round.

he starts reciting them backwards to increase the difficulty and hopefully distract the ache away. but in his ingenuity to up the anti he’s inadvertently made it so tough that he’s now whisper shouting the words out loud. waking you. eddie still hard as a rock reciting poetry in a wicked order that makes no sense to man nor beast, is stopped abruptly in his tracks, gasping at the feel of your palm squeezing the meat of his inner thigh. Mortified and yet. Still painfully erect with no hope of going down anytime soon

sorry to vomit this at you but it seemed like fate that you’d asked for a request (this is far too long and detailed I’m sorry) and I was thinking about this at the same time

1. Don’t apologize, you’ve struck gold. You have not dug too greedily nor too deep.

2. You’ve written this really well so I could just post this with a bunch of reactions under it but, if you’ll allow me to expand upon this.

Picture this with me okay? He’s reciting Jabberwocky to himself. It’s a nonsense poem. He had an English teacher once give out a project for them to learn and recite a poem and of course he chose this. It has fun words in it like vorpal and borogoves. It’s become one of his bits actually when he’s trying to command a room.

“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:”

Everyone will sigh. Jeff and Gareth and Frank will drop their heads onto their desks or over the backs of their chairs in long groans. Dustin still thinks it’s fun, he hasn’t gotten tired of it yet, and Mike likes it he just won’t admit it. Eddie loves it though, likes the way slithy toves slides off his tongue when he puts on that creaking voice he uses for warlocks durning games.

Now though he mumbles it to himself in the dark, his ludicrous attempt at bringing down his mood. Something had woken him at the witching hour, 3:07 shining a bright green from across his room. He wasn’t cold, his window shut against the chill earlier when you’d come over. He wasn’t overheated, quite content with you softly cuddled up next to him. No itch or ill folded sheet causing him discomfort. He had seven solid minutes of waking, a few he spared to revel in the heat of you lying next to him. To feel your shoulder lying on his as you pressed your face into his pillow. Your knee bent up and almost over his own and your hand planted firmly on his thigh.

Oh. That.

Those fingers he liked to twirl around his own and lick salt off of when you were done with your fries? Those fingers were under the hem of his boxers and a very much pressing into the meat of his thigh. You don’t move except to breathe but all he can focus on is that hand literal inches from his dick. The dick he’d kept in check for weeks now in the hopes he wouldn’t chase you away with the absolute need he felt. Kind of like right now where it lays heavy and hot against his thigh just like your hand.

So Jabberwocky it is.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

But in the dark with a hard on, slithy toves makes him chuckle. Almost full on giggle and he slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet. Slithy toves sounds like a euphemism for pussy and he can’t help the huffs of laughter pushed through his nose. He looks down in the hopes that this has distracted his dick but apparently laughter makes him harder and he files that away to look into at a later date. Borogoves floats through his brain and he immediately thinks about giving your boobs a new nickname and he has to put a foot down for himself.

Next verse.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!”

Bandersnatch has to be a euphemism, there’s no goddamn way, it has the word snatch in it. He rolls his eyes and before he can sigh you shift beside him in your sleep, closer with your nose in his curls on his pillow and that soft hand he’s thought about when his own is too boring in the shower scoots another inch closer to the problem.

Maybe if he whispers it out loud?

“He took his vorpal sword in hand;-”

Absolutely not. Nope. New plan when he feels your sleeping breath across the front of his throat. It ghosts over his adams apple and all he can think about is your lips on his neck last week and how he’d pulled at his hair after you’d left just because it drove him insane.

Maybe if he recited it backwards it would confuse him enough all the blood would need to race back up into his brain.

“Outgrabe…raths…the-no…mome the and…” He’s squinting hard in the dark, reading invisible words on the ceiling in this new attempt to circumvent disaster.

“Borogoves…ha. Damn it. Borogoves…the were…mimsy all.” A headache is all this is giving him but for a moment he’s forgotten your hand and where it was. He’s searching the next line in his head and trying to jumble it so it isn’t so halting in the early morning quiet.

“Wabe the in gimble and gyer did!” He almost claps his hands when he makes it through without pause but he stops himself for fear of waking you up. Instead he spends 20 minutes working his way backwards through his poem, whispering to the night about the Jabberwock.

O frabjous day indeed when he realizes his dick is half soft now, not such a nuisance and a terror after he’s distracted himself. He thinks about waking you gently, a hand brushing your hair away from your face or running lightly over your leg but then you move. You move of your own accord and hook your leg over his. Kneecap bumping your hand higher and if he breathed wrong right this second you’d be brushing fingertips over his balls.

“And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,”

He mutters without whisper. It’s not full volume speaking but he really doesn’t want you to wake up and find him hard and awake with your hand shoved up his shorts. As much as he would really love to feel your hands on him like that he’s been trying his best to be gentlemanly. Only necking on your timetable when you steal him away to a quiet corner. A little over the pants stuff, heavy petting but you’ve never pushed it and it won’t make you uncomfortable, no matter what his dick wants him to do.

“Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!”

Eddie sighs. “Jesus Christ.”

“Hm?” You hum at him. A high note in the back of your throat that has him whipping his head to see you stirring. Adjusting to your side and dra-a-agging that hand. He doesn’t know what to do as you come around and blink up at him in the dark. He can see the edges of your expression from the light filtering in from outside, smooth brow and faint smile until it isn’t.

“Di’ yousay sumthin’?” Slurred against his shoulder where your mouth is pressed.

“Uh, kind of.”

“You okay?” You press up against him, your pelvis into his hip and he’s about to be caught. There’s no way you aren’t going to notice the outline in his boxers or the way he’s gotta be sweating gallons just in nerves.

“I…yeah?”

“What’s the ma-” You shift to prop yourself up so you can sleepily inspect him and he wants to subsequently die and sigh happily when your hand meets trouble. “Oh.”

Oh. Oh? Oh yeah, no big deal, it’s just his dick showing up to ruin the party like the world’s worst frat guy. “Look, I was trying to make it go away and I-“

“Why?” Having just woken up your voice is soft in a deep way. Scratchy from dry air but it fits the mussed hair and the rucked up t-shirt you have on. His gaze falls on the sliver of stomach that you’re showing off between the covers and he’s having a hard time coming up with an answer.

“Why?”

“Is there an echo in here?” You laugh and slide your palm over his stomach that tenses. “Yeah, why.” Your pinky catches the hem of his thin shirt and pulls it up to reveal his own section of underbelly. “We’re alone right?”

“Y-yeah.” It comes out like a hiss though because your nails scratch across that newly revealed skin and right over the trail of hairs below his belly button. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t uh, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Your fingers move back and forth over his stomach before you let them dip back down to the waistband of his boxers, fingertip seeking under the elastic ever so slightly. “You’ve been very patient Eddie.” The rings on your hand are body warm but hold a child to them when they glide over skin. “I think we just had a little misunderstanding at first though.” Fingers comb through wiry hairs on their search for their prize. “I’ve been trying to do this since you asked me out, but I thought you wanted to wait.”

“Oh my god, no. I mean yes, because I thought that’s what you wanted but I read into things too much sometimes bec-ause fuck.” He was running his mouth but then you’d grabbed him. Wrapped that dreamy hand around his cock and sighed into his cheek like you were the one experiencing earth shattering euphoria.

“Eddie I’ve wanted to do this for months.” A slow tug to the tip and you do something with your fingers that makes his mouth hang open in a silent plea. Another twist before you run your thumb over his slit and he grabs your wrist.

“This is gonna be over so quick if you keep that up.”

“Well that’s not so bad, I was still a little tired.” Highlights pick up the line of your lips and that sleepy smile that’s all for him. Heavy lashes flutter when he lets you go and shoves his shorts down to give you room to work. “You can get me back when we wake up.”

He throbs in your grasp at the promised idea of getting you back and all that entails. He can’t help himself but think of wet and warm places while your hand moves in languid strokes. Hot puffs of air across his chest where you lay your head to watch and then he’s watching you watching yourself and falling into a vortex of horniness. He wants to weave his fingers into your hair for some reason. Wants to feel the softness between his fingers while you rub velvet skin through your own.

“Eddie?” You pant into his shirt, lips catching and dragging on the cotton.

“Yeah?”

“What were you reciting?”

It almost pulls him out of his pleasure it’s jars him so. Briefly he thinks about lying and saying Shakespeare but you’re already giving him a 3 am handjob so he thinks he might not have to fib. “Jabberwocky.”

“Alice in Wonderland?” Your hand leaves his cock suddenly but he doesn’t get to whine about it before he’s whining about you licking your palm and getting back to work. He nods above you like you could see him but it earns him a chuckle from you and a stray few fingers that tug at his balls.

“God damnit yes.” He does push his hand into your hair then, the other fisting into the sheets beside him. You make a passing remark about reciting it then but he honestly might not even know his own name. The way his legs move restlessly against the bed and his fingers grip into your scalp. The damp slide of your palm over the head of his cock, the twisting motion you keep doing, it’s all rocketing him towards his finish. The burn of it in his belly clouding his senses and making him buck his hips up into your touch. The air of your breath keeps breezing over his overheated skin and your panting laughs are shoving him closer and closer until he’s squeezing his eyes shut and going stiff.

Warm lines splash up his stomach and he knows in a minute or two he’ll feel shame unmatched by man heretofore known but right now he couldn’t care. Soft hands drag him through the aftershocks while you make praiseworthy noises into his chest. You coo at him for a job well done and he can feel the heat rise on his cheeks. Sitting up again to look back at him your drag a finger through the mess he made and when you take three seconds to inspect it he doesn’t expect you to bring it to your lips.

“I-“ He what? What can he say while he watches you suck on your index finger like he does? When a slick grin hooks the corner of your mouth up into something devilish and he has an awakening at almost 4 am.

“How was that, huh? Glad we got that over with?” You drop your cheek to your shoulder to give him a smolder but Eddie needs to taste your lips after you’ve tasted him. It’s a need not a want so he rushes you, pushes you back into the bed and gets his mess everywhere but it doesn’t matter. He kisses you deep until you both have to come up for air and then he’s peppering your neck in them until your giggling is too much.

He uses his shirt to wipe himself off, promising a shower in the morning, and pulls both of you under the covers to conspire in the afterglow.

“Do you think reading that poem is gonna Pavlov you now?”

“How so?”

“I mean,” your laugh cuts into your explanation, “slithy toves kind of sounds like a name for-“

“Pussy! I know!” He laughs with you. “And Bandersnatch!”